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28
MARYCAT
Hope was a beautiful thing.Deadly, venomous, but beautiful nonetheless.
It drowned me with the force of a tidal wave as I watched Conor warn the guards, “Any of you mention who you saw today and I’ll hack into your bank accounts and make your savings fit into a piggy bank, ya hear me?”
Then, he clambered over to the passenger side and waved a hand at me to get behind the wheel.
As I adjusted the driver’s seat, I turned to him to thank him, but his head was against the rest and his mouth was open as he started snoring.
“How the hell did you fall asleep that fast?” I muttered under my breath.
But, it gave me a couple of moments to text Digger once I’d found his number in the contacts.
Me: Change of plan, Digger. Conor (he’s the nicest brother) was at the compound and I’m driving him back to his apartment in the city. He’s promised to help me. If you want to follow me, here’s my live location.
*Live Location shared for eight hours*
I didn’t wait for him to reply but saw the two ticks that meant he’d read the message.
Feeling much better than I had before, I saw Conor’s phone was in the cup holder, being charged, and I unplugged it then hovered it in front of his face so it’d unlock.
I flipped on the ‘silence’ switch at the side of my device and called myself with his cell phone so I’d have his number in the future, just in case, before I plugged it back in and took off.
I tightened my hands to the point of discomfort around the steering wheel because they were sweaty with nerves and kept sliding as I drove us to the city.
My eyes constantly drifted to the rearview mirror as I sought out my husband’s hog. Around ten minutes later, when I saw it sliding into the lane a few cars behind me, my anxiety faded somewhat now that he was nearby.
It wasn’t normal how he could calm me down just by being close—I barely knew the man, after all—but soothe me he did.
In our short acquaintance, I’d come to associate him with protection. Safety. Fairness.Kindness.
Maybe it made sense for my old crush to be morphing into something else.
I’d never imagined that day back in Westchester that the scruffy biker could be so much more than just hot.
A smile danced on my lips at the thought, and during the drive, I allowed my mind to drift to the days I’d spent with Digger.
They kept me better company than Conor did who, for someone so cute, snored loudly.
Though, two hours of sleep in five dayswaskinda crazy.
By the time that we were on the island, I had no idea where to go. I’d checked his GPS for a ‘home’ address, but no dice, so I tapped his knee. “Conor?”
When that didn’t work, I slapped his knee instead.
Nada.
I patted his cheek next.
Nope.
Tugged on his ear.
Still snoring.
Getting annoyed now, I grabbed a chunk of his hair and—
