Page 60 of Violent Little Thing

He’d said that he was going to, but I figured it’d be tonight. Not before the game.

“I thought that it was after the game?” I asked, already searching online for the press conference.

“It is after the game,” he pointed out.

I looked at the time and realized that it was well past six in the evening.

The game today was at two…

“Oh.” I giggled. “I’m sorry. Time got away from me.”

“How’d the meeting with the players go?”

“Really good,” I admitted. “She signed the contract. Seraphina wasn’t there to cause trouble. Everything went smooth as a cucumber.”

“I think the saying is ‘cool as a cucumber,’” Court pointed out.

“Oh.” I shrugged, despite him not being able to see me.

A knock at the door sounded, and I walked to it warily.

I wasn’t expecting anyone…

“It’s me, ma’am.”

Frey.

“Oh, hold on,” I called out as I unlocked all the locks.

Court had a gazillion.

He smiled when I finally got it open and held out a pie to me. “My mom sent me back with a housewarming gift.”

“Oh, thank you, Frey.” I smiled.

“Tell Court hi.” Frey left with a wave.

It was only after I closed the door that I realized that I was still on the phone and it was down by my side.

“Court?”

“Frey’s there?”

“Frey brought me a pie.” I lifted it to my nose and inhaled. “Huckleberry. Yum.”

“You better count yourself lucky,” Court grumbled. “His mama hoards those huckleberries like they’re gold. If she baked you a pie, it means she wants you to like her.”

“I already do,” I teased. “And I really like Frey, too. He helped me unload the rest of the boxes from Dad’s truck. Also, he is so polite and sweet.”

“He’s a good kid,” Court agreed. “Frey’s mom escaped an abusive situation when Frey was fourteen. A club down in Texas called Free helped extricate Frey and his mother from the abusive situation. They relocated them here with new identities. I gave him a job as a groundskeeper once I heard he was looking for an after-school job. Kid’s a hell of a worker.”

That explained it.

“He insinuated that he was abused,” I said softly. “That breaks my heart.”

After a few more minutes of talk about Frey, I asked, “So which room am I using?”

“Whichever one you want,” he said. “But I forgot about the sheets. They’re still in the package from the store in the bathroom cabinets. I meant to wash them, but never got around to it. You’re more than welcome to sleep in my room for tonight. I won’t be in until late, and I’ll just take the couch.”