Maybe he should’ve made more of an effort and found a way to go to college if that was the kind of shit that went on. “College girls gone wild, huh?”
“Are you getting hard?” she accused, eyeing his lap.
“How the fuck can I not? You talkin’ about shovin’ your face between another chick’s thighs and lickin’—”
“I did not say those words. That’s just your horny imagination.”
“You never ate pussy?” Christ. He was getting hard.
“You just said this wasn’t going to be a Q and A session.”
He sighed. That he did. For fuck’s sake, he should’ve kept his damn mouth shut and let her just talk. He might have heard some great stories instead.
He frowned. “Fine.”
“Fine,” she huffed.
He needed to get his mind off Reilly and back to their destination. They were only about fifteen minutes away from the house he grew up in. He needed to prepare himself for what they’d be walking into.
It wouldn’t be a teary reunion full of hugs, kisses and claims of missing each other. It would be more of a “I’ll try not to smother your fuckin’ face with a pillow after I spit on you,” just to make sure his old man took his last damn breath.
He figured they’d head straight over there, check out the situation, see how long his asshole sire had to live and then find a motel. Because he certainly wasn’t planning on sitting at his father’s bedside to hold the fucker’s hand.
He also wasn’t planning on forgiving him, even if the man asked for it with his last dying breath. His father didn’t deserve even an ounce of forgiveness. Not one.
Closure. That was what he was going for.
Nothing but closure.
Once the man’s evil soul left his body, the man could be forgotten for good. Have a nice trip south, dearest Dad.
“Hey, why did the Harley fall over?”
Oh Christ, here she went again with lame jokes.
“Because it was two tired!” she shouted, then slapped her knee and laughed.
He groaned.
With her tracking device off, he could dump her body anywhere and she’d never be found again.
That might be for the best.
Chapter Four
Reilly sat in the passenger seat and studied the plain, two-story house in front of them. The white paint on the wood siding was faded and peeling. It needed a fresh coat at least ten years ago or to be updated with vinyl siding. The house wasn’t falling down or anything, it just needed a facelift.
The Bronco’s engine still rumbled since Rev had put the shifter into neutral as he also stared at the house. He hadn’t even engaged the parking brake yet, almost as if he was weighing his options.
His expression was unreadable but his stiff body and the fingers white-knuckling the steering wheel said it all. This was not a joyous homecoming.
He was dreading it.
That made her wonder, for the hundredth time since yesterday, why he wanted to come back here at all. He said he wanted to make sure his father was dead. Simply reading the obituary would give him that. So would getting another phone call from his uncle once his father passed.
He didn’t need to put himself through turmoil just to witness it.
She wanted to say something but didn’t know what. Whatever she said he probably wouldn’t appreciate right now. Instead, she sat quietly—a struggle in itself—and let him work out whatever he needed to work out in his head.
Most likely whether to stay or go.
The problem was, if he didn’t say something soon, words might simply explode from her like a drunk unable to contain his vomit. She dug her nails into her palms in a desperate attempt to keep herself quiet.
She could do it. She could be patient. The whole point of going along was to be supportive and, if he needed her to keep her mouth shut, she’d do her best.
Staying quiet wasn’t her strong suit, so she hoped he appreciated the effort she was taking. She tried to concentrate on their surroundings instead, like… The fact that his parents didn’t live in a neighborhood. It wasn’t a farm, but the house was situated along a country road with other homes within view but not close enough to be on top of each other like in the suburbs.
She also noted that three vehicles were parked in the stone driveway. All plain, boring four-door sedans.
The lawn seemed—
Reilly jumped when he stomped on the parking brake and shoved the shifter into first gear before shutting off the engine. He yanked the keys from the ignition and stuffed them deep into the front pocket of his jeans.
For some weird reason, her heart began to pound. She wasn’t nervous about meeting his family. She was nervous for Rev.
She’d known and worked with him for a year now, and the way he was acting was not normal for him. Hell, it wasn’t normal for most people visiting their parents.
But she could understand it. She would feel the same way if she had to visit her own. In her case, though, she’d never do that, even if they were dying. Neither deserved her time or attention. Neither deserved even a second of thought. She had never been their priority, even when she was in her mother’s womb, so why would she ever make them hers?
What she was taking away from Rev’s words and behavior was that his parents didn’t deserve his time or attention, either. They had done something to severely damage their relationship with him and Saylor. She doubted it was anything minor. Maybe whatever it was was even heinous.
That made her thumping heart quicken.
“Rev,” escaped from her, even though she hadn’t meant it to. But the dread thickening the air of the Bronco’s interior had begun to seep into her own chest. “We should just leave.”
He turned his head, his blue eyes hard when they met hers. “No.”
The tension in the Bronco’s interior ratcheted up a notch or two. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Told you not to fuckin’ come. Once again you forced your way in the middle of somewhere you don’t fuckin’ belong.”
She caught her grimace and smoothed it out. He was striking out and she just happened to be conveniently close. She understood that, too.
She would give him a pass. This time. “Now that we’re sitting here, I know it was the right decision for you not to come alone.”
“Don’t need you or anyone else.”
She pressed her lips together in her attempt not to snap at him for being a dick. That was not what he needed right now.
Her heart seized when the front door of the house opened wide and a tall man stepped out. He didn’t look ill or feeble so it couldn’t be Rev’s father. The older man was dressed in a plain black suit with a black button-down shirt and a white clerical collar. As he walked down the porch steps, he did not turn toward the parked vehicles, instead he took long strides right toward the Bronco.
“Fuck,” Rev muttered under his breath.
It wasn’t a good sign if the visit was starting out with a muttered curse in reaction to a man of the cloth. Or whatever they were called. Reilly had no idea. The only time she’d ever stepped into a church was when a friend got married a couple of years ago.
She rated that experience a one out of five stars. #WouldNotRecommend. The wedding service was endless, and she didn’t understand why they kept standing and sitting and kneeling over and over… Especially when Reilly was wearing a short dress.