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I’d never been in love with anyone else before, and if I was the last sex he had, I’d venture to guess he hadn’t either. We were a couple of twenty-something teenagers on that front.
“Well, that happened,” I said.
He chuckled. “More on this later?” he asked, getting up from the bed.
“Yeah!” I said, giggling and waving and what the fuck was I doing? “Yeah! Of course! Go to work. Bring home that bacon.”
Oh. My. God.
He laughed again, and then he was gone, locking the front door behind him.
I dove back under the covers and plastered the pillow over my head, laughing and kicking myself at the same time.
The adrenaline rush was too much to go back to sleep, so I got up, found my clothes, and checked my watch. It was only a little after five o’clock, there was plenty of daylight left. I had to get outside. I needed to not look at a wall for at least an hour. I knew everyone had my best interests at heart and that they loved me and wanted to protect me, but I needed space and—
“I told him I loved him!” I exclaimed to Lance, who wagged his tail ferociously. “And he said it back.” I shook my head and resisted the urge to happy dance, thinking there might be a camera somewhere. Also, I felt a tiny bit of remorse for the younger me that had waited for this, wanted this so badly, and never got it.
I leashed up Lance and tiptoed down the stairs, not wanting to ruin the day by arguing over going off alone. There was a small park around the block, a perfect family friendly place where stabbings didn’t happen. Unlike at a church.
Yeah, I wouldn’t think about that.
I’d pocketed my little can of pepper spray just in case.
Lance pranced happily down the street, stopping to smell all the things. I would take a page from his book and smell all the things, too. The azalea bushes blooming my favorite white-blossomed version in front of the courthouse. Someone barbecuing something delicious nearby. Lance stopped to hunch and do his thing when we rounded the corner in front of Mrs. LeBouef’s house, and that didn’t smell too nice, but you know what? It was life. And I hadn’t been living too much of that lately.
I made a point to smile at a runner passing me going the opposite direction, and I didn’t even flinch when he passed. Score one for me. There would be people at the park, kids playing, other dogs, and I’d take it all in stride. Just a woman with a love-sick grin, walking her dog.
Except when we got there, the park was empty. No families, no harried parents throwing up a fast-food picnic at the concrete tables, no kids playing, no dogs. Not even a frigging bird. Nothing but a black Escalade rolling slowly in my direction, as if it were lost.
The windows were tinted illegally dark, and I was fleetingly wondering who could get away with that because I’d for sure get pulled over—when the back passenger side slid down.
My next very quick thought was that someone was lost and wanted directions, until—oh, fuck me and my stupid choices.
“Kinda wishing you were a Rottweiler about now, Lance,” I muttered. “Not gonna lie.”
Cyrus Pittman smiled at me, looking like the son of the devil. Slick and evil, with the smile of a madman. A narcissistic, ego-maniacal madman who owned most of Redemption, had essentially owned my father, and knew full well that he’d skimmed from him. Probably didn’t know that it was in a trust for an illegitimate child since he’d sent goons to find that money and take me out in the process, but hey. Mateo could say what he wanted about needing evidence, I didn’t need shit. This slimeball wore his guilt in his beady eyes.
“Miss McMasters,” he said smoothly. “Nice to see you.”
Alive?Yes, I’m sure.
“Mr. Pittman.”
“Condolences on the death of your father,” he continued. “I didn’t get to make the funeral, and I’m ashamed to say I haven’t made it to church in some time. So sorry. He was a good man. A true pillar in Redemption.”
Oh, yes, Daddy was dipped in glitter and rainbows.
“Thank you,” I managed.
“I understand you had some medical issues yourself?” he said, tilting his head in a show of concern. “How are you feeling?”
It was all I could do not to pull my pepper spray from my pocket and load his saccharin-sweet grin up with it. My heart thumped faster in my chest as I imagined it. The smell, the screaming, the car’s tires screeching as the driver took off. Might have even had a tussle with said driver first, him tackling me to the ground as Lance sunk his little needle-sharp teeth into his ankle.
“Great,” I said instead, letting go of a breath and grabbing another one. “Never better.” I sounded like Adam that night at the bar.
“Glad to hear it,” Pittman said, patting the windowsill as if it were my hand. “You take care of yourself, you hear?”
I nodded and saluted him, unsure why I did that, but he smirked as the darkly tinted window slid up in front of his face.
