“What did you say?”
Caidyn’s death stare reveals he heard what I said. He just wants me to repeat it.
“I said Demi isn’t wearing any pants.” My second attempt isn’t any better than my first.
“Maddox—”
I cut him off only a second into one of his infamously long lectures. “It isn’t what you’re thinking. She came on to me.”
Not entirely true, but mainly.
Caidyn whacks me up the back of the head. It’s an old-style Dad move, and since my undercut was recently clipped, it makes the impressive crack noise our father always sought after our mother trimmed our hair when we were kids. “That shouldn’t have mattered. Last night, Demi needed a friend, not a one-off fuck buddy.”
“It wasn’t a one-off.” I sure-fucking-hope it wasn’t. “And we’re both adults who consented to every single thing we did.”
My tone is way too cocky for Caidyn’s liking. He slaps me again, except this time, he puts some oomph into his swing. “Go get your wallet, dickhead.” I charge for the hallway, more than eager to skip his three-hour-long lecture on treating ladies right. My brisk strides slow when he adds, “But don’t think this is the end of this. We’ll have words about this later.”
Great.
When I round the corner of the hall my room branches off, I lessen the thumps of my feet. Not a sound is projecting from my bedroom, so I don’t want to wake Demi if she’s still sleeping.
With the curtains closed and the light switched off, it takes me longer than I care to admit to realize the lump in the middle of my bed is the bedding.
“Demi?”
After scanning my room to ensure she isn’t hiding in the shadows, I head for the bathroom.
“Demi, are you showering?”
I tap two times on the glossy white door before entering the bathroom. I can’t hear the shower running, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t in here. When you have four siblings, you soon realize silence isn’t always a good indicator that things are swell.
“Are you decent?” I fucking hope not. Her body isn’t just dynamite, it’s downright explosive.
When my search of the bathroom comes up empty-handed, I race back into the main part of my room. Unwilling to leave anything to chance, I switch on the light this time around. It reveals most things are where I left them. My watch and cell phone are on the bedside table, but my wallet is no longer in my trouser pocket, and Demi’s ruined panties aren’t on the floor.
With the removal of my wallet the most obvious sign something is amiss, I snatch it up from the bedside table, then search for any clues as to what Demi was seeking when she removed it from my pants. I gave her unlimited access to it only hours ago, so I’m a little perplexed as to why she needed to go through it a second time.
My wad of bills is untouched as is the piece of paper Agent Moses’s latest cell phone number is scribbled on, but the card Col handed Demi yesterday is gone.
Fuck it!
“She’s gone,” I announce after returning to the living room, my steps slow and weighed down.
Sleeping with Demi doesn’t grant me the knowledge of all her inner-workings, but watching her from afar for years most certainly does. Her disappearance is very unlike her. The only time she vanished without a trace was when her father died. I thought she was grieving. It turns out, she was being bounced from foster home to foster home.
“What do you mean she’s gone? Where the fuck could she go? We’re in the middle of nowhere, and she doesn’t know how to ride a motorbike…” Caidyn’s words trail off when he leans to the side to peer out the big French doors that lead to the patio. His Jeep is usually parked a few spots up. It isn’t there today.
“Fuck!” I curse out loud this time around. “I hid your car keys in my room—”
Confirmation Demi has done a runner doesn’t steal my words. Caidyn’s fist does. “I thought you said last night was consensual.”
“It was,” I fire back, more panicked than annoyed at his assumption I’d ever hurt Demi like that. I wasn’t lying when I said last night was years in the making. I’ve been dreaming about last night for ages, and it was better than I could have imagined.
It also assures me I’m on the money with my assumption Demi didn’t take Col’s card for no reason. She did it because she experienced the same sensation that hit me when I sunk into her last night. There’s just one difference. She’d rather be assaulted by her uncle than see me become him.
“Then why did she leave?” Caidyn asks, averting my focus back to him.
I breathe out the heaviness on my chest before answering, “Things are more complicated than you realize.”
He points to the sofa my ass was planted on while Demi hatched her escape plan. “Then you need to sit the fuck down and explain yourself.”
I’d laugh about how much he emulates our father when he’s stressed if I had the time. “Call Saint. Sloane may know where Demi has gone.”
Although he looks like he wants to argue, Caidyn jerks up his chin before pulling his phone out of his pocket. “If he’s not with Sloane?”
“He’ll be with her.” Saint’s eyes were gleaming last night when Sloane galloped down the stairs of her building. More than his signature move was placed on the cooktop the past couple of days. I’m certain of it.
While Caidyn does as requested, I tug on a pair of jeans over my boxers, cover my plain white T-shirt with a jacket, snatch up my bike keys from the kitchen counter, then rejoin Caidyn in the living room. “Anything?”
He shakes his head. “My calls are going straight to voicemail.” He angles his head to the side when I fail to keep my expression neutral. Saint always answers his phone. Even when he’s balls deep in a female, he forever takes his brothers’ calls. “What?”
“Nothing,” I reply, denying the knot in my stomach its chance to speak. “Keep trying. If you get anything, come back to me.”
“I’m coming with you,” he announces while shadowing my sprint to the front door.
“How, Caidyn? Are you gonna ride bitch on the back of my bike?” When he makes a face like vomit is scorching his throat, I arch a brow. “Exactly. Besides, you’re better off staying here. If Demi has popped down to the market to gather supplies, who will let her in if we both leave?”
“True.” His reply is as unconvincing as my piss-poor excuse for Demi’s unexpected disappearance. My mom stacked our fridge only yesterday. There are enough supplies in the kitchen to feed an army.
“Keep me updated,” Caidyn requests while tossing me my cell.
After lifting my chin, I stuff my phone into the front pocket of my jeans, then gallop down the porch stairs, praying like fuck my intuition is way off base due to a lack of sleep the past forty-eight hours. As I hook my leg over my bike, I push down on the kickstart lever at the same time. Since I’m also twisting the throttle, I rocket out of the dusty driveway before my ass is fully in my seat. I don’t even have my helmet on, but I don’t give a fuck. Nothing I said or did last night was fraudulent. I would kill for Demi. I’d even send myself to slaughter if it guaranteed she’d leave the massacre uninjured.