AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Strict orders?”
“Yeah, told me to take the bed, go to Rister’s, and don’t come back without the car and the woman. You.” He shrugged, staring off to the road. “Been with Cade since I turned eighteen, even got a place at the compound. Never sent me out with instructions like, ‘don’t come back without the fucking car and Rissa.’”
Marissa tightened her lips and gave no response. What could she say? This whole scene was strange. She barely knew Caden, and he was helping her out, and even giving her a place to stay for the night. Sweet.
Dylan’s phone rang, and he grabbed it, answering with, “Yeah?”
Watching him balance his cigarette, the steering wheel, and the phone was comical. He waited a second and then spoke.
“Yeah, got her in the truck now. Rister was his usual fuckwad self.”
“Nah, not really. He bitched and moaned, called her a fucking idiot and—” he paused, and Marissa glanced over. He raised his brows and nodded.
“Yeah, I handled it, no worries.” He paused. “Okay, bye.” Dylan clicked his phone off and tossed it into the cup holder. He took a drag of his cigarette and glanced over at her with a humorous glint in his eyes.
“Cade was fucking pissed.” Dylan laughed. “I knew ya had something with him. Hell, I thought he was gonna jump through the fucking phone when I told him about Rister calling you a fucking idiot.” He shook his head. “God, man, I hope I’m there, next time Cade sees him. He’ll annihilate the fucker.”
“Caden’s upset?”
Dylan’s eyes bulged. “Well, fuck yeah, he is. Listen, you don’t talk to Caden Reilly’s woman like that unless ya got a fucking death wish.”
His woman?
Dylan resumed the conversation, but it was mostly one-sided. She didn’t mind. Most people who talked a lot needed to as they were lacking in another department in their life. Being a listener was easy. The stretch of road seemed familiar, and she recognized the sharp turn into the driveway. In the light of day, she got a better view of the property. It was overgrown and inconspicuous. The grassy hill had more weeds than actual lawn. Landscape was obviously not a priority for Caden.
Dylan pulled past the small house and into the fenced gates. She hadn’t seen this when she came a few days ago. It had been too dark. The wide area was squared out with a two-story building and what looked like a huge metal shed. He pulled up and parked next to Caden’s bike.
“Here we are, the compound. Hop out and in through the back door.” He pointed to the shed building. “The stairs are in the back, and Caden’s office is upstairs.”
She nodded. “Okay. Thank you for the ride, Dylan.” She opened the door and slid out of her seat.
“Bye, Riss.”
She walked past the front of the truck and could feel Dylan’s eyes on her. She didn’t look back as she made her way up the stairs. Riss. Was it normal for people to give another a nickname after meeting for a few minutes? She recalled Caden calling her Rissa in the motel and Dylan referencing Caden’s quote. She huffed a breath. Maybe here it was. Either way, it didn’t bother her. They could call her whatever; she’d answer to both. She walked into the building, feeling the damp cool air descend. She looked up to see large industrial fans on the ceiling. She scanned the room and saw the stairs. There was knocking and banging coming from the other end of the building. It echoed through the open warehouse.
She climbed the steps and heard voices as she breached the landing. The area was spread out with all the desks facing the center. Along the wall was a makeshift counter and a coffee setup. There weren’t any dividers. The space was completely open. And messy. She glanced down at the carpet, wondering if stained beige was the original color. The air temperature was different too. It was much warmer than downstairs.
“Then fucking get it.” Caden’s voice boomed through the office. She scanned the room to see him standing with his back to her. His jeans molded against his ass. The man definitely worked out. His black T-shirt was hugging his biceps, which bunched up from his hand holding the phone to his ear. “That’s why I pay you, dickhead. If you don’t have it by Thursday, you can kiss any chance of getting a repeat delivery from them. You fuck with them, Mike, you deal with Kase, not me.”
Beads of sweat formed at her neck. Why was it so hot? She dropped her bag off her shoulder and to the floor in a soft thump. She unzipped her sweatshirt and pulled her arms out, feeling her body cool instantly. She bent down, opened her bag, and shoved the sweatshirt inside. As she rose, she noticed a pair of worn leather shoes appear. She glanced up and smiled.
“Hi.”
The older man with a gray beard prickled around his mouth slowly grinned.
“Hi there.”
Marissa rose slowly and craned her neck. Was everyone in this town tall? She was five-two, which was on the smaller size, but the people around here seemed to tower over her by at least a foot. She watched as he perused her body, zoning in on her breasts. His eyes lingered before lowering to her feet and rising again. His corner of his eyes crinkled.
“I’m Grady.” He made no move to reach his hand out, which was fine by her. She took her own glance at Grady. He was older, probably in his sixties, or maybe fifties, and lived an adventurous life, or a hard one. Maybe both. He was big in every sense of the word, including his protruding belly. She had to wonder when the last time Grady saw his feet was. He wasn’t handsome, even for an older man. He looked worn, his teeth were yellowed, and his skin crepe.
“Hey, Cade, we got company.” Grady stepped back and slid out his hand, gesturing for her to walk. She followed his nonverbal direction and moved into the room. Caden turned, and she noticed he halted halfway, staring at her. It was a tight, tense stare, and when his eyes dropped down her body, she didn’t miss the sharp intake of his breath.
“Fuck, let me call you back.” He clicked his phone and shoved it in his back pocket.
“Fucking liar,” Grady said and then howled in laughter.
“Shut up.” Caden stalked to her, stopping only when someone darted up the steps. The pounding rumble sounded as though it may have been a herd, but when she turned, it was only one. A boy, probably seventeen or eighteen. His dark, thick hair curled at the ends of his ears. He was out of breath and obviously sweating. When he reached the landing, he pulled up the hem of his shirt, showing off a chiseled stomach, and wiped his face.
