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She does that slight trembling again, then cries out like she did before. When she’s done, I let myself go, coming hard and fast.
Shit, that was good. Better than I’ve had in a long time.
“Now I’mreallytired,” she says with a contented sigh.
I move off her, laying on my back. She turns and hugs me from the side, her head on my chest. It’s nice. I haven’t laid like this with a girl for a long time. Usually, the girl gets up and leaves, saying she needs to get home. Or sometimes I was the one who left. Looking back, my past relationships really weren’t that intimate. They were intimate in a sexual way but not in a way like I’m experiencing now. Sharing a quiet moment, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Within minutes, Sage is asleep while I lie there listening to the rain. It’s getting heavier, pelting against the house. The wind rattles the window next to me and I jump at the sound, waking up Sage.
“What’s wrong?” she mumbles.
“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”
I’ve got to stop being so jumpy or people are going to think something’s wrong. They’re already suspicious of me. I don’t need to be making it worse.
Nobody’s going to find me here. I keep telling myself that, hoping I’ll eventually believe it. I feel better having the gun, except now it’s not with me. It’s back at my house, hidden so no one will find it.
Getting a gun turned out to be easier than I thought it would. I was sure I’d end up coming home without one. But I not only got a gun, but also an untraceable phone that I can use to call my brother. I can’t tell him what’s going on, not over the phone. I probably won’t even talk to him. But I can at least hear his voice and make sure he’s okay.
Honestly, I don’t think my father would ever hurt Cain. He’s always liked Cain better than me. He rarely gets mad at him. When Cain screws up, I’m the one who gets yelled at because my father assumes it’s my job to watch him. And I did. I basically raised him after Mom died.
But now I’m not there and I’m worried my dad’s anger over my disappearance might get out of control. I don’t want that anger being taken out on Cain. That’s another reason I needed the gun. When I figure out a plan for going back there to get Cain, I’ll need the gun to take down whoever tries to stop me. I’ve never shot someone before but I’m willing to do it to get my brother out of there.
I bought the gun from a guy at a bar in a town about two hours from here. It’s not even a town. It was more like a deserted stretch of road with some old abandoned buildings that went on for about a block. I went down a side street to turn around and that’s when I saw two guys in a parking lot behind one of the buildings. They were exchanging something. I assumed it was a drug deal.
Normally if I saw that I’d get the hell out of there, but these were the type of guys I needed. Drug dealers have guns and they aren’t buying them at the local sporting goods store.
I pulled into the parking lot as the one guy was leaving in his pickup. The other guy looked at me as he stuffed a wad of cash in his pocket.
“We’re closed,” he yelled at me.
I looked behind him and saw a neon beer sign flickering. I hadn’t realized there was a bar inside. It was only eleven-thirty so it made sense the bar wasn’t open. What didn’t make sense is that it was there, in the middle of nowhere. People wouldn’t drive out there to get a beer. It had to be a front for drug dealing, and maybe more than that.
“You sure?” I yelled back. “Because I could really use a cold one right now.” I got off my motorcycle and walked up to him. He was older, maybe fifty, with tan wrinkled skin and a scar along his neck. He had a gut that jutted out from his black t-shirt and he was sweating a lot. He kept wiping his face with his hand.
He looked pissed as I approached him. “I told you we’re closed. You deaf?”
“You own this place?” I asked, pointing to it.
“None of your damn business. What are you, a cop?” He squinted at me because the sun was shooting right at him.
“I’m not a cop. I just need a drink. Can I come inside?”
He waved me away. “Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back.”
I remained in front of him. “I’ll give you a fifty for a bottle of beer.”
He stared back at me as he considered my offer.
“And I’ll give you a lot more for what I really came for.”
His lips turned up just slightly on one side and he said, “Come on in.”
The cash for the gun was wedged against the inside of my ankle, held in place by my sock. Over that was my boot, and then jeans, so the money was well hidden.
I took a hundred dollar bill from my wallet and slapped it down on the bar. “Make it two.”
“Who sent you?” he asked, grabbing the beers from the cooler. He set them in front of me, then picked up the hundred and stuffed it in his pocket.
