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“Because you like driving.” Finished cleaning my weapon, I oil it down and reassemble it before stripping out of the rest of my clothes and showering myself.
“Only because the rest of you suck at driving.” Zeb turns the water to scalding hot. Within seconds, the showers fill with steam.
“Then it’s settled.” By the time I hop in the shower and get out, both Zeb and Hayes are already dressed. We hit the road and make great time to the city.
But when we hit the club, there’s no sign of my mystery woman.
Not that night, the next night, or the nights following. I’m about ready to pull my hair out when Bravo team’s given the green light on the mission to free the trafficked women at Maximus Angelo’s estate, along with Carmen’s childhood friend, Rosalie.
FOUR
Barbi
It’s been far toomany days since graduation night. Weeks.
Weeks of wanting what I had that night: a man strong enough to be my equal, or even a little bit more?
Too many times, I thought about going back to the club to find him, but every time I worked up the courage, I didn’t have it in me to take that step.
After all, if he really did have that little bit more?
What would I have done?
Would I give in to my fantasies and let him sweep me away? A stranger I don’t know? Give him that kind of power over me?
He could be a serial killer, or worse. So, I play it safe and stay away.
I tell myself it’s for my own good. That I can’t be trusted to keep things safe if I see him again. There are very specific rules I’ve developed to ensure I have fun but keep myself safe at the same time. It’s worked for the past four years, and there’s no reason to change things.
But each night, the same decision plagues me. Do I return to the club?
I’m stuck in limbo, unable to move forward and unable to turn back. So far, active avoidance appears to be working. Although, I feel like I’m heading down the wrong path.
Is this all I want for myself?
Meaningless hookups for life?
I mean, at some point, that’ll get old.
Right? Tell me I’m not wrong.
Hell, at some point, I’ll get old. Who’s going to want to tap my eighty-year-old twat?
Not that I plan on being single my entire life. I just have plans. Things like law school that can’t be derailed by love, marriage, and kids.
I want kids. At some point, I want a family, but not now. I’m not ready for that next step. What I’m past ready for are more orgasms.
My sex life aside, Kaye and I finally got a bit of good news. After Carmen basically disappeared off planet earth, she called us the other day, squealing with joy.
Ecstatic.
Joyful.
Turns out, on graduation day, when her father so rudely called her home, he offered—aka forced—her hand in marriage to Artemus Gonzales; a man twice her age, in return for certain favors like helping her father take the presidency from Nicaragua’s current, legally, elected leader.
Turns out, Artemus Gonzales and Maximus Angelo are business partners in the disgusting trade of human trafficking. That revelation came as a kick in the gut. Kaye almost puked when Carmen told us that nasty bit. Bile rose in the back of my throat.
The important bit is Carmen escaped when men called Guardians mounted a rescue mission for Izzy. Regardless, this whole time, Carmen has been back in the States, down south to be precise, with those Guardians, and went back to Nicaragua on a mission with the Guardians to free the women held by her father as well as her longtime friend, Rosalie.
