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“So, why did you move here?”
“What?” I snapped, a little too wound up from my thoughts.
“I just asked why you moved here.”
“Just got out of prison,” I answered.
“Oh.”
I could feel her unease across the truck. Yeah, she wouldn’t have taken the ride if she knew I was in prison for murder.
The rest of the ride was uncomfortable at best, and I didn’t learn a damn thing. I pulled up to the emergency room and let her out. She grabbed her bag, then stood awkwardly at my door.
“Do you need a lift home?”
“Um…no, I’ll find a ride.”
Sighing, I held out my hand, waving her closer with my fingers. “Phone.”
“What?’’
“Give me your phone.”
“For—”
“Christ, I’m not gonna steal it,” I snapped. She reluctantly handed it over. I punched in my number, then handed it back. “If you need a ride, you have my number.”
She nodded, then shut the door and turned her back on me. Fuck, that was way too much work. I tore out of the parking lot and didn’t look back. But somewhere deep in my gut, I hoped she’d call me tonight.
I strodethrough the front door of my house, then slid open the sliding door at the back and slipped outside. Keeping an eye on the rest of the houses, I took the chance to slip into Skylar’s back yard. It was still early enough that most people in this area would still be asleep. Criminals tended to work at night, which was convenient for me.
Jimmying the lock was easier than it should have been for a woman living alone with her kid. Since she was Rico’s woman, I expected her to have better security at her house. Stepping inside, I was surprised at what I found. Every surface was clean—not just tidy, but immaculate. While there wasn’t a lot of shit decorating the walls, she’d made it feel homey in this tiny house with curtains and throw pillows.
Even Parker’s toys were picked up and stacked neatly in a bin. Theonly sign of anyone really living here was the rack of drying dishes. I took a quick tour of the house, coming up with the same thing in every room. Both beds were made, towels were neatly hung, even the toilets were clean.
If Rico ever stayed here, there had to be evidence of it. There would be a man’s razor or beer in the fridge. But I came up empty there too. The need to find something on this woman that would make sense sent me digging through everything in her house. I started in her bedroom—the place I imagined a woman would keep private notes or a journal. Her nightstand held only a few books with some odds and ends. There wasn’t even so much as a dust bunny under her bed.
I flung open her top dresser drawer, certain I would find something under her neatly folded socks. And when I came up empty there, I searched the rest of the drawers. I was obsessed, almost pissed that I couldn’t find a damn thing connecting Rico to this woman. The closest I came was a shoebox on the shelf in her closet.
I grinned as I pulled it down, lifting the lid to find…a vibrator. I swallowed hard as I pulled out the long, pink toy. I pressed the button, curious as to what I would find. I didn’t exactly read up on this shit. I was never interested in using toys in the bedroom, but as I felt it vibrate in my hand, I could see the appeal, especially for a single woman.
Lifting it to my nose, I inhaled. Soap. It smelled like soap. Christ, she was clean in every way. It was disappointing, and I refused to acknowledge that the reason was because I wondered what she smelled like when she came. Shoving the toy back in the box, I replaced it in the closet and stormed out of the room.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” I muttered. I wasn’t going to find anything here. But just as I talked myself into leaving, I decided that a peek around the kitchen might shed some light on the situation.
I yanked open the drawers one by one until I came across the junk drawer that every house had. There were dividers, separating the drawer into six sections, each one designated for something specific. I was beginning to think there was something seriously wrong with this woman. Who organized a junk drawer?
A noise outside caught my attention and I slowly closed thedrawer, slipping through the house quietly to peek out the front window. Rico was walking up the steps to the house with a key in hand. Releasing the curtain, I rushed to the back door, barely able to close it as I slipped outside. I left it open just a crack, hoping I would overhear something that would give me some insight into this man or his business.
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon,” he said on the phone, walking straight into the kitchen. As if he’d been in there a thousand times, he walked right over to a jar up on the corner shelf and took it down. Fanning out the bills inside, he grinned as he pocketed nearly half of it. “Yeah, I got the money.” He spun suddenly, and I ducked back out of sight. “Don’t fucking test me. I said I got it, and you know I’m good for it…No, my old man has nothing to do with this. I’m going solo on this one.”
Still yelling at the guy on the phone, he started for the front door. As soon as his back was turned, I pushed the sliding door closed the last inch. I got out of there, slipping back into my house without anyone noticing. Even though I didn’t want to talk to Rico, it wouldn’t do me any good to hide out in my house. I grabbed the keys for my truck and headed out the front door. Rico was just hanging up when he saw me.
“Yo!” With a grin on his face, he jogged over to me, slapping his hands on the hood of my truck. “Good to see you, man. How’s it going?”
I grunted, pretending I didn’t give a shit about talking.
“Hey, you got any jobs lined up yet?”
