He chuckles, his bare chest doing things to me that would have Mother Superior praying for my sinful soul.
I stand and pour him a cup of coffee.“I can do it.”
“I know,” I say, offering him the coffee.“But I like doing things for you.”
He raises an amused brow.
“Oh, get your mind out of the gutter,” I tease, rolling my eyes.
He leans his back against the counter.“I was thinking we could talk to a few girls today.I know a couple of them.They or their family are customers of the garage.”
Which reminds me.“What about the garage back in Flat Planes?Aren’t you supposed to be there until further notice?”
“This is more important,” he says, sipping his coffee.
“Kit, I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me.You have responsibilities?—”
“The only responsibility I have is to you.”He interrupts, making clear this isn’t up for discussion.“Now, go get ready.We can swing past the motel and grab your things.”
“You’re so bossy,” I state with no bite because I secretly like it.
He sets his cup down on the counter, then grabs my waist and pulls me toward him.“You haven’t seen anything.Yet.”
Yet has never sounded so promising.
Igrabbed my things because Kit made it clear he would set the motel on fire if I refused to stay with him.
Honestly, I would much rather that option.I can’t help but feel like nothing but a burden to him.
He’s been my savior from the very beginning, and all I seem to do is drag him into my mess.And sitting in this public park, watching the ducks swim leisurely in a pond, is a prime example of this.
He somehow managed to convince two of the girls to meet us for a chat.
No pressure.
They could leave at any time.
He was upfront, as I didn’t want them to feel ambushed or cornered.If this is going to work, then we need them to trust us.
And I know from experience that’s not something easily done.
We sit on the bench, trying our best to be inconspicuous, but I can’t shake the feeling of being watched.Jupiter will appear soon.She’s just waiting and watching, as always.
Kit interlaces his fingers through mine, sensing my anxiety.
His phone rings, but he ends the call.He seems to be doing that a lot lately.I wonder why.But I can ask later because when two girls walk toward us with their eyes downcast, I know without a doubt that these are Jack’s victims.
Although gossip often circulates in a town like ours, these women are telling the truth.
I know that look—I’ve lived it.
“Hi, Caitlin.Marla.This is Hallie.”
The girls nod.
Marla’s blonde hair is styled in a pixie cut.Caitlin has long brown hair.They are slender and short.It sickens me that Jack overpowered them both physically and mentally.They knew no one would believe them if they reported it.
But now, maybe there’s hope for us all.
