“Yeah? Well, that’s the second thing I wanted to tell you. Your sister isn’t here. She’s gone. Any idea of where she could be?”
“I have an idea,” I grumble, then reach for my wallet.
Please, don’t let it be empty.
I unfold it and part the middle, cursing when I find the cash missing. “Goddamn it, Taylor.” I drop my wallet to the ground and scrub my fingers through my thick scruff, scratching the skin. “She went to go get her fucking boyfriend from jail. She didn’t do this, Mercy. She wouldn’t kill someone.”
“I know that, but she could have the information we need. I want her brought back.”
“As a prisoner?”
“Until she’s proven innocent, right now, she’s fucking guilty in my eyes.” Mercy stands and steps over the body. “If this kid doesn’t have family, then get rid of the body. If he does come up with a creative way for his family to claim him.” He punches the wall as he strides away. “Fuck!” he yells, disappearing into the kitchen.
“I think Prez is pissed.”
“No fucking shit, Socks.” I am too.
The last thing I need is for my sister to be caught in the middle of some drug ring. Charlie is in the crossfire and has no idea just how close she is to the problem.
No, not close.
Dead center.
And if I know one thing about assholes like Kenneth, it’s that they take their possessions seriously. He will do whatever it takes to get his punching bag back.
I need a scapegoat, only mine isn’t drugs. It’s an auburn beauty and she’s waiting for me upstairs.
Charlie Cupcake, the only scapegoat a man truly needs.
Kenneth is an idiot. He already had the only drug he ever needed.
“Cupcake, wake up. Come on, Charlie, wake up.”
My shoulder shakes and I turn over, taking the comforter with me and pulling it over my head. No. I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I’m finally able to sleep knowing I’m not bound to a monster. I tried staying awake for Whistler but one hour led to three, which led to six, and I got tired of pressing my ear to the door, so I crawled into bed and fell asleep.
“Cupcake.”
I groan and kick the person rude enough to try to wake me.
“Ow, damn it. My dick,” the intruder rasps.
But the intruder sounds a lot like Whistler.
I bolt forward and my eyes open wide when I see him bent over, his hands cupping his cock, and he coughs. “Oh my god, Whistler. I’m so sorry.” I crawl onto my knees and crawl closer to him. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was asleep and noticed your voice, yet didn’t, and I get kind of violent when I’m woken up unexpectedly…it’s been a while since I’ve done that.” Before Kenneth was the last time I had hit someone. I gave my dad a black eye one time.
“That would have been good to know,” he chokes. “I’m fine. I just need to find my balls.” He stumbles across the foot of the bed and vanishes into the bathroom.
The water turns on and I hear a groan, hopefully of relief. “Did you find them?” Am I allowed to ask? I feel so bad. What can I do? I was asleep.
“We’re good. We’re great. One. Two. All here and intact.”
I can barely understand him since the door is shut, but I get the gist and spread my arms out like a bird, then fall back onto the bed. My head hits the pillow and I stare up at the ceiling, replaying the information that’s been given to me.
Not about his balls, but about me not being married. I should be mad or maybe sad? A normal person would be sad, right? I’m not. I’m not sad, not even a little, but I am pissed off at Kenneth for lying to me, for putting me through hell only to decide to keep me there.
But I’m so relieved. I’m so happy.
Happy.
Something I haven’t been since the day I married Kenneth.
I’m ready to move on. I’m ready to live. I don’t want to be afraid of shadows anymore. I don’t want to be afraid of anything.
The bathroom door opens and Whistler walks out with his thumb up. “Crisis averted.”
“That’s good. I’m so sorry.” I push myself up onto my elbows and rub the sleep out of my eyes with my fist.
“I was asking for it. I shouldn’t wake a woman in the midst of her sleep,” he jokes, which makes me grin.
“True.” I tug the blanket to my chest to hide the fact that I’m only wearing his shirt. “How did you get in here? I locked the door.”
He sits at the bottom of the bed far enough away to make me comfortable, yet also far enough away for me to wish he was closer.
“I’ve had my fair share of needing to break into places.”
I check the time and see that it’s almost four in the morning. I yawn and lift my arms above my head to stretch.
“Pack a bag,” he says, slapping his palms on his dark-washed jeans. “I’m taking you somewhere.”
“At four in the morning?” I’m hesitant but I’m not afraid. Whistler doesn’t have my stomach screaming at me to run. He doesn’t have my body in protective mode. I’m not trying to be perfect around him. I’m simply…me.
I’m able to breathe without feeling guilty about it.
The constant edge of sickness I had with Kenneth isn’t present with Whistler. There’s no revulsion.
I’m experiencing peace after losing so many pieces of myself.
There’s a small voice inside the back of my head wondering if Whistler is a missing piece. The last thing I need to think about is a man, but really, when have I ever been with someone I wanted? I haven’t been in love in years, I haven’t felt a positive touch, I haven’t laughed with someone else, and I want those things.
I deserve those things I want.
“Just do it,” he grins.
“I don’t have anything to pack, remember? Unless you count this?” I wave my new Kindle in the air. I’ve downloaded fifty books so far. I find one to read but then I get recommendations and I go down this rabbit hole of other books and I’m not even close to being done looking at all the possibilities. I was never allowed to have a Kindle with Kenneth. He said it would take too much time away from my responsibilities.
“Perfect. It can fit in the saddle bag and on the way, we will stop and get you a few things.”
“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?” I swing my legs over the bed, keeping the blanket wrapped around me as I dip down to pick up his sweatpants.
“Nope, that would take away all the fun, Cupcake.”
“You’re not going to take me to the middle of the desert and kill me, are you?” I realize how bad my joke is when he doesn’t laugh, not even a little, considering the situation.
He crowds my space and I hold my breath, tilting my head back and meeting his dark gaze. His eyes fall to my lips and his fingers stroke under my chin. “There’s only one reason I’d take you into the middle of the desert and it wouldn’t be to kill you.”
I lick my lips and he groans, taking a step back to put space between us. “Put your pants on. It’s going to be a long drive.”
The space between my legs tingles for the first time since my wedding night and my nipples bead in response. Not wanting to get lost in lust, I slip the pants on under the blanket, then drop the comforter. “I’m ready,” I say as I slip my shoes on.