Chapter 6 Crypt
“We’re making a quick stop,” I announced as I glided into a parking space close to the entrance.
“At Target?”
“Yeah, babe. You need stuff,” I explained as I shut off the engine and stood, immediately missing Rachel’s hands on my body. “This is a good place for clothes and necessities, right?”
My sister loved Target. She said you could buy anything there. I had to take her word for it because I’d never set foot in one before today. I hated shopping and usually bought what I needed online or had it delivered through an app.
Michelle would be shocked if she saw me walking inside.
“Yeah, actually. Rylee loves Target.”
I reached for Rachel’s hand and curled my fingers around hers, an unspoken communication that I wanted to pick up where we left off at the prison. Was I surprised she had a daughter? Sure. Did it matter? No.
Kids didn’t bother me. My sister had two little girls.
Rachel held my hand and didn’t pull away. I couldn’t help the ridiculous fucking grin on my face as we entered Target. I ended up having to let go far too soon because she wanted to push a big red plastic cart.
I cleared my throat. “Get whatever you need. Don’t worry about the cost.”
She turned to me, and I saw her cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. “I’m not poor.”
“Never implied that you were, but I’m thinking that you had to pay those motherfuckers off since Hannibal took the backpack from you. It’s not difficult to figure out that it probably contained a lot of what you had saved up. Am I right?”
Her eyes shifted, and her focus slipped to the floor. “Yeah.”
“Hey.” I grasped her chin and lifted it, not giving a fuck that we stood in the middle of the shampoo aisle in Target. “I’ve got you. It’s my job. Hannibal’s orders.”
“I don’t think he meant paying for all the things we need.”
“Yeah, he did, beautiful. You put whatever you and Rylee need in the cart. Price doesn’t matter.”
She frowned. “Not a penny over. Nothing extra.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it. I’m not a charity case.”
My thumb brushed over the soft skin of her face. “It’s not charity. Taking care of you and your daughter is a privilege.”
“But you don’t know us.” She sounded flustered.
I’d change that real soon. The more I was with her, the more she’d get to know me—the same for Rylee. I wouldn’t be a stranger for long.
“I want to help. It’s the right thing to do.”
She seemed to search my eyes for several long seconds, making a decision I couldn’t influence. “Okay.”
“Good. Let’s shop, Brown Eyes.” I brushed my mouth over hers and backed away, letting her push the cart in the direction she wanted.
Her lips were still as soft as flower petals and tasted sweet like strawberries or cherries. Everything I remembered and had craved during the last three years. A part of me wanted to press her against the wall and kiss her, showing her that I was the guy she needed in her life and could take care of all her needs. A man that she could count on.
And her daughter? I’d do right by her, too. I didn’t need to meet Rylee to know she was special. I knew that because of Rachel. She was everything I remembered, and somehow, she’d become a necessity I couldn’t live without.
We bought clothes, shoes, toiletry items, and everything else a woman and her young daughter might need. I insisted onadding anything to the cart that Rachel debated, knowing that if she stopped to look at or touch it, she probably needed it for herself or Rylee. The cart was full by the time we finished.
“I don’t think all of this will fit in your saddlebags,” Rachel observed as we approached the row of registers.
