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I’ve called the hospitals in the Sacramento area, but I’ve been unable to get a straight answer about if he’s okay or not. They don’t know shit, or they won’t say shit. Both are annoying.
Just then, the door swings open, and a little girl in a sundress greets me. “Hi,” her sweet voice says.
This must be Sophia. I put on the brightest smile I can manage and stoop to her level. I look into her big, bright doe eyes.
“Hi, sweetheart. Is Jack here?” I ask in a soothing tone.
“What do you want with my Uncle Jack? I don’t recognize you,” she sasses back, placing her hand on her little popped-out hip. I can’t help but smile at her.
“I’m a friend from out of town. Can you go get him?” I don’t want to frighten her, but I also don’t have time to waste.
She gives me one more questioning glance before bouncing on her toes and turning to run toward the back of the house. She calls, “Be right back,” over her shoulder just before she fully disappears, leaving the door slightly ajar.
I stand and wait not so patiently for Jack to make an appearance. Glancing down at my watch, I realize it’s been exactly fourteen hours since the accident. I blow out a frustrated breath. It took me too long to get here. They need every advantage they can get, and time is of the essence.
I look up when I hear approaching footsteps. A tall, muscular man with dark brown hair wearing a t-shirt and casual shorts heads my way with a polite but distant smile on his face. That’s to be expected. He doesn’t know who the fuck I am, and I plan to keep it that way.
“Jack Lawson?” I ask. I already know it’s him, but asking is the polite thing to do.
“Yes.”
As he answers, I hand him the package. He reaches out and takes it from me. With it safely in his hands, I turn to walk back toward the street, where Mike’s cab is waiting.
“What is this?” he asks loudly. I look back briefly before continuing down the stairs. “Who are you?” he yells.
I turn just as I make it down the stairs to the sidewalk. “It doesn’t matter who I am. Andrew asked me to give that to you. Everything you need is in that package. Please, open it and look for yourself.”
I’ve already said too much, and I need to get out of here. I won’t break another promise to him. One is too many.
I turn my back and make my way to the waiting cab. I get in, slam the door shut, and tighten my seatbelt because I know what’s coming. My back slams against the seat as Mike takes off like a bat out of hell.
I close my eyes and fight the vomit clawing its way up my throat. I just detonated their whole fucking world, and they don’t even know it yet…
Chapter One
Andrew
I swirl the amber liquid one more time before bringing the glass to my lips. It’s room temperature and slides down my throat with that all too familiar burn. A burn I am fucking craving right now. The sounds in the bar are more muted and distant than earlier. I spin the glass in my hand, wondering if I should just order another Angel’s Envy. My glass is half empty after all.
I raise my head, looking for the bartender. He’s all the way down at the end. I smell her before my eyes find hers. That sweet lilac scent is one I would recognize anywhere.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she says as she slides into the empty bar stool next to me.
My eyes take her in. She’s in a tight tank top, her breasts pushed up and out, with black jeans that are ripped at the knees, and the fucking heels she’s wearing should be illegal. Especially on her.
My cock immediately swells before I tell it to knock it the fuck off. I shift in my seat, partly to relieve myself and partly to get a better view of the bombshell of a woman next to me. After all, I’m a glutton for punishment.
Her eyes take me in, staring at the bulge in my pants. A small smirk plays on her lips as she continues her way up, taking in my chest in a baby blue button-up collared shirt, the top two buttons undone. Then finally rising to find my eyes. Her pupils dilate, the black taking over the beautiful green. My favorite kind of green, not that I would ever admit that to anyone.
My hand and cock have gotten plenty acquainted while imagining her. She makes my blood boil, but at the same time, she seems to be the only one who can soothe me. I’ve stopped trying to understand it and started avoiding her at all costs.
I turn my head away from her, giving a grunt as a greeting. That only makes her smile wider.
“Whatcha drinking, big guy?” She quirks an eyebrow.
“Nothing you would like,” I gruff out.
I turn my head to face the bottles lining the back of the bar. A TV plays just to the left, but I’ve ignored it since I got here. The news can’t stop talking about the first day of trial for Senator Christopher Gates.
