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My fingers itch to touch it. To explore it and see if I can find out who gave it to him. But I don’t want to accidentally wake Rhys. He had looked so exhausted earlier. TO me, that just seems like further proof that someone else is dictating his job. There’s no way he’s setting up these jobs back-to-back. No way he willingly saw whoever did this to him tonight. Hell, even Phil doesn’t seem like the type Rhys would work with.
My stomach twists, and I turn away from Rhys to grab my phone from the nightstand. I try searching for him online, but without his last name, it’s difficult. Even when I combine his name with Tony’s, it doesn’t yield anything.
For a minute, I wrestle with the idea of asking Cam for help. When I lived with him while he attended UCSF, he worked in security for extra cash. He knew private investigators, police officers, detectives, even bodyguards for famous people. He got along with all of them really well. If anyone could find out more about Rhys, it’d be my brother. But I don’t text him. Not yet. If I’m right and someone’s forcing Rhys to do this, I’ll get Cam involved. I don’t want to bring him into this unless I absolutely have to.
***
I don’t sleep much throughout the night. I don’t drift off until well after midnight, and I wake up several times with my heart racing. I haven’t done that since I was a teenager and had gotten away from Dad.
When I wake again at four, I push up into a sitting position, carefully so as not to wake Rhys. The search for him is still up on my phone so I shut it down. Then I search my father’s name. It’s something I haven’t done since he went away to prison. Back then, thirteen years had felt like a really long time. But now seven years later, it feels like a blink.
I stare at the mugshot they took of him when he was first arrested for robbery. The picture taken when he pleaded guilty for the lesser sentence. And then the most recent one, when he was released six years early.
My gaze traces the lines of his face, the hard look in his eyes I used to have nightmares of him all the time when I first moved in with Cam. I’d wake up muffling my scream into my pillow, hoping I didn’t wake my brother. Sometimes I did accidentally, and he’d come into my bedroom and sit with me for a while. I’d felt guilty about it because I knew he had to get up early for classes. I was relieved when the nightmares went away.
“Is that your dad?” Rhys asks, jerking me from my memories and startling me so badly that I almost drop my phone.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, pushing up onto his elbow. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine.” I take a couple seconds to calm my heartbeat before answering his question. “Yeah, that’s my dad. The day he was released from prison.”
Rhys studies the photo for a moment before his gaze flicks up to my face. “Are you worried about him coming after you?”
“I was a little at first. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and there’s just no reason for him to. There’s a statute of limitations on what he did, and that’s already run out. He’ll most likely just leave me and Cam alone. My father was violent, but he had a good sense of self-preservation.”
It’s not the full truth, but it’s all I can say right now. I think Rhys can tell there’s more to the story because he doesn’t shift his gaze from mine. I’m the one to break and look away from him. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Yeah.” He plays with the sheet tangled in the bed with us for a second before saying, “I accidentally double booked you with someone else, so I’ll have to leave a little earlier than six. But I’ll get a partial refund out to you.”
“Don’t worry about the money.” I turn back to watch him twist his index finger in the sheet until it can’t go any further. “Are you upset?”
“Hmm?” He jerks his eyes up to meet mine. “No. No. I guess I’m just still waking up.”
It’s so obviously not the truth, but I don’t call him on it. If I want to get more information from him, I can’t have him on edge. The few times he’s opened up to me, he’s been relaxed.
“You want to take a shower with me before you go?”
His cheeks fill with red, and in the dim morning light coming in through my window, I watch as his pupils dilate. “Yeah. I’d love that.”
Thirteen
Rhys
I follow Parker into the shower and try not to wilt at the feel of the hot water on my tense muscles. I’m still sore all over from the jobs I worked. Some of the wounds are going to scar.
Parker pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapping protectively around me. “It’s okay,” he breathes in my ear. “I’ve got you.”
I press myself closer to him, knowing it’s not okay to lean on him but unable to help it. I crave his closeness, his safety. Parker makes me feel like I can be something other than a hooker.
He kisses the top of my head and then guides me gently to get me under the spray of water. I close my eyes and hang onto Parker, terrified to let him go.
We stay like that for a long time, until Parker releases me. I try not to miss the feel of him against me, but I fail. He grabs a bar of soap from the side of the stall and works a lather onto my skin. I reach to help him, but he pushes my hand away gently.
“Just let me take care of you, okay?”
I nod and squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t watch the way Parker looks at my body, like it’s something to be worshipped. He doesn’t know where my body’s been. The things I’ve done.
He rinses the soap from my skin, and I get ready to reciprocate, but Parker moves me so the wall is at my back. Then he sinks to his knees. His hands touch my thighs, and I pull back a little.
