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I nod. “What just happened?”
“Somebody very powerful had your back.”
I think back to the red crystal. Was this what it was for? Did she know this was going to happen? Did she protect me? The crystal was red, the light was red. Coincidence?
“Let’s get you home.”
“What about the panty box.”
“The agent will get it during cleanup.”
“What about my uncle?”
She rubs my trembling arms and looks me in the eyes. “He won’t be alive for much longer if she has anything to do with it.”
“I didn’t kill her?”
She shakes her head. “No. She’s a queen, it’ll take a lot more than a pretty red light to put that one into the nether where she belongs.”
The nether?
I feel my body slump forward and Mackenzie catches me as I ask, “Whasssgingon?”
“Rest, you’ll feel better tomorrow.”
Huh?
“It’s better this way, trust me.”
I stretch and roll over onto Presley’s back, wrapping my arm around his chest. My head is pounding and foggy. I don’t feel great.
I slowly peel my bare flesh from his and sit up.
Presley, feeling me move, turns and blinks, looking as though he can’t believe the sight of me.
“When did you get back?” he asks breathlessly, rubbing his eyes as I turn, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
“Get back?” I whisper, trying to recall the night before. “Did I go somewhere?”
“Well… yeah, you left us a note and three dead fucking roses and took some of your shit. You don’t remember?”
I rub my temples and he comes up behind me and rubs my shoulders and neck.
“Did you get drunk or something?”
My mouth does taste like whiskey. “It’s probable. I vaguely remember calling that journalist.” I vaguely remember her FBI agent guy opening the box with gloves on and revealing the tiny rolls of panties, dating back to when I was eight and thought of the idea. I was a smart kid. I’d wipe the mess clean from between my thighs, roll up the panties into a little tube shape and hide them beneath the bottom layer of the jewelry box. They all had not just my uncle’s DNA, but others’ too. My cousin, one of his friends, my uncle’s acquaintances. I was nothing but a toy while growing up. All their DNA in different panties as well as mine and some even contained traces of my blood.
Now that it’s gone, it feels like such a weight lifted. Like I’ve been dragging an anchor around my entire life.
“My head really hurts,” I mumble and he starts massaging my scalp.
When his phone rings, he stops for a second to answer it. “She’s back. Yeah… I don’t know. You coming?”
Carter replies that he’s on his way and I lift Presley’s hands back to my head. He chuckles and continues rubbing, opening his thighs so I’m situated between them.
“You smell smoky,” he comments, sniffing my hair. “Did you go to a bar?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Are you still leaving?”
I shake my throbbing head. “I don’t want to leave, but I don’t want to stay if it’s going to cause problems between you and Carter.”
He doesn’t acknowledge anything I said. “Stanley came looking for you last night. He’s worried about you.”
“I know he is, but I can’t just forget.”
“I understand that.” His hands move from my head, to my neck, to my shoulders, and then my bare breasts. “But I also think everybody deserves a second chance.”
“After what he did?”
“He was a deadbeat dad,” he admits, turning my head to look at him. “But he came back.”
“If your dad comes back after what he did, would you forgive him?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “If he comes back clean and willing to make changes, then yeah. He’s my dad. I’m always gonna love him even when I shouldn’t.”
I press my forehead to his cheek and let him take my weight. We stay like this until Carter arrives.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper before he lets Carter in.
“You can stay with me,” Presley tells me, hooking me around the neck. “You can always stay with me. I’ll never let you down.”
“I can’t choose.”
He nods with a gentle smile and disappears for a moment. I pull one of his black shirts over my head. It has bold yellow writing on the front that reads:
“If you don’t say it with your lips, will I see it in your eyes?”
It’s one of my favorites of his. I might keep it. It buries me, but then, his and Carter’s clothes do. I’m small compared to them. Though not short, just petite. I’m at an average height.
Carter bounds into the bedroom and his body hits mine so hard we both tumble onto the bed.
I laugh gently beneath him as he wriggles to a position of comfort.
“You smell so good.”
“I know,” he replies arrogantly and I wonder if he’s starting to pick up Presley’s traits. “You smell smoky… like fire or something.”
