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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Judge
I was out of my motherfucking mind.
I mean, there was no way to rationalize what I was in the process of doing.
Buying goddamn fruit snacks and planning on scaling a tree to see a girl like I was a horny teenager.
No.
It was worse than that.
I could excuse going to all sorts of different lengths for some pussy.
But I wasn’t going to be getting any pussy. Which made this whole situation even more fucked.
I was acutely aware of how crazy my behavior was before I even left the clubhouse. Which was why I hadn’t said anything to anyone about my plans.
First, of course, because they’d already stood back and watched me get my ass kicked for being involved with Delaney Murphy. And it was sort of understood that I was supposed to stay the hell away from her in the future.
But also just because there was no way I could explain to my brothers how far out of my way I was going to just see and talk to a woman I had no chance of fucking.
I told myself on the walk from the convenience store at the gas station on the other side of town that I was just checking in on her, that I was emotionally invested because I’d been the one to find her, because I’d held her as we waited for the ambulance, because I’d gone with her to the hospital.
By the time I snuck my ass into the Murphy backyard, there was no denying that my actions were borderline boyfriend-like.
Wasn’t that just fucked up?
I was not a boyfriend kind of guy.
And I damn sure wasn’t going to become one fresh out of fucking prison.
I should have been diving between the thighs of every woman who showed the least bit of interest, not climbing in the window of the first one I got a taste of after getting free.
“Fuck,” I hissed quietly to myself as I leaned back against the tree after checking to make sure none of her brothers were around.
With my fucking luck, it would be right that moment that a cop cruiser would come down the street, catching me trying to climb in the window, and accusing me of trying to break in.
Well, at least if I was going to go back on the inside, I had the best pussy of my life first.
Double-checking to make sure Rian was still in the living room in the front of the house, I went back to the tree and hauled myself up before I could think better of it.
I lucked out that it was an old, sturdy thing with thick limbs practically meant for climbing.
I didn’t even give it a second thought until I was right in front of the window and I wasn’t sure the last branch would hold my weight all the way to the end near the opening.
But through my somewhat labored breath, I heard a sound that had me saying fuck the consequences and rushing forward in through the opening.
Crying.
I tried to keep my footsteps light as I landed on the inside of the room.
She had wall-to-wall cream carpeting to muffle the sound, but there was a big difference between a small woman’s and a large man’s footsteps. Rian might have been the most laid-back and unconcerned of the brothers, but even he would know the difference and come to investigate.
Her room was somewhere between teen girl and adult woman, like she’d been actively making the design shift, but had a hard time letting go of some of the shit that used to make up her younger years.
Like a corgi plush on the bed.
Like the light pink color of the walls.
But she had a more mature-looking bed, bookshelves with carefully staged decor, and a few expensive-looking furniture pieces.
She wasn’t in her room, though.
I wanted to call out to her so I didn’t startle her, but I knew I had to keep my voice low, so I just moved through her room on light feet, cringing when the floorboards below the carpet creaked.
The door to her bathroom was cracked slightly, but I couldn’t see anything inside but the tub.
“Dell?” I called, voice soft, as I pushed the door open.
To find her half bent forward over the vanity, one hand cradling her ribs, the other pressing over her mouth to muffle her cries.
“Baby,” I called when she showed no sign of hearing me the first time. “Hey, it’s okay,” I said, immediately regretting it because, clearly, it wasn’t.
What can I say?
I had no experience with feminine tears.
I had no fucking idea what to do about it.
“Did you take your pills?” I asked, moving closer, reaching for the hand covering her mouth, and pulling it down.
“I… took… one… of… them,” she said between shaky cries.
“Take more,” I said, looking around for the bottles, but they didn’t seem to be in the bathroom.
