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“So now there’s awe? I think I like the sound of that, dollface.” I clapped my hands together to cut off whatever snarky comment was forming on her lips and quickly steered her thoughts in another direction. “Whelp, seeing as we can’t very well drive around in something that resembles a block of Swiss cheese, our best bet is to lie low, get a few hours of sleep, and regroup in the morning. I mean, you said it yourself. We have what? A good twenty-four hours or so before Benny lights a fire under Junior’s ass and they both come looking for us again?”
I glanced back at Dani, who responded with a noncommittal shrug, and something told me I had better sleep with one eye open and my wrists tucked under my head. Not that I didn’t appreciate a little kink. I just had a feeling it would have more to do with baby girl trying to sneak out in the middle of the night than her wanting to take full advantage of riding my cock.
“Right, well, guess we can flip for it,” she said while one of her hands dug into the pocket of her too-tight riding pants. “There’s a buncha glass in the back. So, heads for the trunk and tails for the front?” Her lips curled into a near sinister smirk as she flipped the coin into the air and expected me to call it.
Not only was I certain that the game was rigged. But she’d surpassed crazy at this point if she thought I would trust her enough to climb my ass into that trunk and expect her not to lock me inside. Besides, I had no intention of sleeping in my beat-up Buick tonight.
I needed a cold shower, a warm meal, and someone to pluck the glass from my arm because right now it stung like a son of a bitch.
The coin bounced off the concrete floor with a clink before rolling under a large red tool box. Dani followed its path, then eyed me like I’d just popped the last balloon at her birthday party.
“Yeah, I have a better idea. How about we just go inside and sleep in a bed? Unless you’d prefer to freeze your ass off out here, then by all means, the trunk is yours.” My grin widened while hers dropped.
“Inside? There’s an inside?” she grunted.
“More specifically, anupstairs. But, yeah, you catch my drift.” I didn’t wait for her to argue as I strolled up to the far door, ran a hand through the dust collected along the top of the frame, and grabbed the key that was waiting there.
I’d never been more thankful for my uncle’s forgetfulness. The man had been prone to locking himself out of his apartment more times than he could count and resorted to keeping a spare down here to avoid the locksmith costs he was constantly racking up. Uncle Mickey was retired now, his tools rusting away and the space sitting vacant. But the old man just didn’t seem to be able to let the place go.
Dani huffed and puffed the entire way up the back staircase, and not because she was out of shape. Nope, the little sounds she was making were completely intentional, her way of expressing her displeasure without having to verbalize 'em to me. Or so I could only assume.
The woman was no better than that kid throwing a tantrum in the middle of the toy aisle at the department store. All because she was stuck inside when she was itching to get out and spill some Irish blood.
Then again, mine was still up for the taking. I was more than aware that my sex kitten had claws. And that she liked to use 'em too.
Dani hit the landing with a childish boot stomp. I shook my head, brushing past her before sliding the key in the lock, jiggling the knob around a few times, and shoving the door open.
It took a couple swipes of my hand for me to break up the dust particles floating in front of my eyes and get a good look at the place. My uncle’s loft was nothing short of a grease monkey’s paradise, with a beer fridge in one corner, a pair of oil-stained overalls balled up in the other, and air so thick and stale with a hint of cigarette smoke that it clung to the back of your throat until you were forced to swallow it. I flicked on the nearest lamp, tugging Dani in front of me and securing the door before turning around again.
I scratched the back of my head while shrugging my apologies.
“I mean, it’s no Four Seasons but guess it beats sleeping in an icebox.” Dani plopped down on the 70s style plaid sofa, a cloud of dust popping into the air as she crossed her boots at the ankle and rested them on the coffee table.
These mood shifts were like something out of a made-for-tv movie, but I had to admit some sick part of me enjoyed not knowing which version of Danica Rossi I’d be seeing next.
19
Iwanted to be annoyed—no, that was a lie. What I wanted was a taste of blood. Instead, we were shacking up in a little one-bedroom apartment, sharing space with dust mites and more than likely a horde of rats and cockroaches. Not that I was all that picky.
I might have grown up with a silver spoon in my mouth and more cash than I could spend in a lifetime, but I also knew what it was like to sleep on the streets and fight for my next meal. A reverse rags-to-riches story if you ever saw one…
Some people called what happened to my family karma, while I considered it a life lesson about getting too comfortable. Luxuries made you soft and soft made you dead. It wasn’t some cosmic power enacting its revenge; it was simply survival of the fittest.
And my parents and brother didn’t make the cut.
My eyes flicked around the room as Connor disappeared behind a door to scope out the sleeping arrangements. My guess, it was a one-bed situation. But I was too aggravated to point out the obvious to a man with a skull thicker than clam chowder.Pretty sure the only reason the fucker was alive was because he was too stubborn to die.
That made two of us.
When Connor didn’t pop back out after a few minutes, I assumed he’d fallen asleep or fallen in, and pushed to my feet to check out the rest of the apartment. The beer fridge was painfully empty, so were the cabinets minus the occasional mouse dropping, as was the small pantry. It was clear his uncle hadn’t been here in years.
Maybe the old guy was dead? A fact that could play out in our favor when the Mulligans came looking for us. Not that I had any intention of staying put. Three hours of sleep and I’d be golden. Though the dried sweat sticking to my skin told me a shower wouldn’t hurt either.
I took two steps towards what I assumed was the bathroom and collided into Connor’s shirtless chest. He winced as his right arm shot up to steady me. And my eyes dropped to the ace bandage wrapped around his bicep. It wasn’t there before. I would have felt it when I was clawing at his chest like a cat in heat back in that storage closet.
“Glass.” He shrugged, as if he could see the wheels turning in my head.
“You get it all out?” I asked, though I still wasn’t sure why I cared. But I did.
