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“Yeah, you know…” Hank turns toward the wall and plows into it shoulder-first. Thankfully, he doesn’t do it with enough force to leave a dent.
“I’m guessing you didn’t hold back on my front door?”
“Nope. That baby opened right up,” he replies with a proud grin.
“Great, big guy. I’m sure my landlord will love fixing a busted lock.”
“Yeah, she was pretty pissed. Told us you’ve got until Sunday to move out.”
“Wait. Back the fuck up,” I tell him. “You got me kicked out!”
Ev winces. “Apparently, you didn’t pay rent for the month.”
“I was in the hospital on the first! It’s only a few days late.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll go box up your things for you tomorrow,” Hank says as if it’s no big deal I’m homeless now. “Isaac said we could store everything in his garage.”
“He did?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, fuck. Thanks for the clothes and I guess for handling my move.”
“No problem. We also brought you a piece.”
“Seriously?” I shove my arm deeper into the bag until I feel the metal. I pull out the 9 mm Glock and examine it, check the clip and the safety. “This isn’t mine.”
“Yeah, yours is in police evidence, so we got you a new one,” Ev explains. “Thought you could use it since you’re sleeping in enemy territory.”
“I appreciate it,” I tell them, tucking the gun underneath my pillow. “Maybe now I can sleep.”
I start to ask why Isaac would let me and Lyla stay here if the Savage Kings are enemies, but I’m afraid to find out the answer. If Isaac’s letting his daughter sleep here, then they must not be too big of a concern. But then again, he doesn’t know I made out with one of them in the bar’s bathroom…
“If you’re set, then we’ll get out of your hair,” Ev says. “Take it easy, brother.”
“See ya, man,” Hank says before he leads the way out the door.
Even after they’re gone and I turn the lights off, I still can’t fall asleep.
I’m nervous about the first time I see RJ in his house. Eventually, we’ll run into each other. What will he say? What will he do? Will he try and smother me with one of the guest pillows? Choke me out with his hands wrapped around my throat? Poison my food?
I don’t have enough strength to fight off a dog much bigger than a Chihuahua right now, much less a full-grown, muscular man. At least I have my gun now. But the thing is, I don’t want to shoot RJ. He’s too pretty to make bleed. But I’ll do what I have to in order to survive.
I hate how this whole situation is giving me anxiety, and I can’t tell anyone how I feel.
* * *
Late that night, when the blond mechanic suddenly appears silently in my dark doorway, I barely hold in a scream for help. Instead, I slip my hand under the pillow, fingers wrapped around the cool steel.
God, this hole in my side has really turned me into a pussy.
RJ doesn’t come rushing in to attack me, though. Instead, he just stands there with a hand on either side of the doorframe, the glow from the television screen casting the only light on him.
“So…you’re here.” His words are calm. Soft. So soft I almost miss them.
“I’m here.” With my free hand, I reach for the remote on the mattress beside me and fumble it around before I get my finger on the volume button to turn it down.
“How are you feeling?”
