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The text alert from my phone pulls me from my confusing thoughts and I scoop it up, flopping back on the bed. I see a text from Abel and I smile widely.
Abel: Hey. Michael says he’s going to Nevada with you.
Abel and I have been texting back and forth for the past few days, and it’s like we never lost time together at all. Our friendship picks up where it left off and I’m glad for that.
He asked if he could FaceTime me, but after hearing everything they went through and trying to keep their false demise a secret, I’d rather wait until I get to Nevada to talk to him, knowing no one there will think Abel on my phone screen is suspicious. He understands and is more than happy to wait a few days.
Me: He is. I’m glad. I don’t know if I would be comfortable going alone.
Abel: I can imagine. You plan to see the sights? You could drive to the Grand Canyon.
Me: Probably not. Just going to work and enjoy not being around James, Fallon, and Conrad.
Abel knows about my shitty home life. It was something we bonded over when we started getting to know each other. Where Abel loved his brother and wanted to do anything to get his approval, I’ve given up on that. It would be nice, no doubt, but I know what the three of them are capable of and it’s not love for me. As soon as I pay James back the money I owe him for my tuition, I want to wash my hands of them. If I didn’t think he’d come after me with all his lawyer buddies in tow and sue the shit out of me, I’d leave now.
After a moment, Abel messages me back.
Abel: Hear that! Try to do something fun. Michael will be there to protect you, so don’t worry about your safety. I trust him with my life. I’ve never felt safer than when I was with Michael. Except with Savage, of course.
I know the whole story behind Abel’s kidnapping. He told me he still feels like shit for making Michael believe that he was going to see his brother when all he planned to do was give him the slip. That’s another reason I wanted to apologize to him. Looking at him, with his big body and his intimidating face—when he’s not undressing me with his eyes—the first impression anyone would get is he’s a man that shouldn’t be messed with. But Abel told me he always went out of his way to be good to him and wanted to give him one last chance to say goodbye to his brother.
Abel trusts him, so I do too. Michael hasn’t made me feel like he wouldn’t be good to me too.
Me: We’ll see. I’ll call you as soon as I get the chance.
Abel: Looking forward to it.
I lay my phone on my chest, unable to stop the smile stretching my face. I have my friend back.
I don’t recall falling asleep. One moment I was smiling, thinking about Abel, the next, there’s banging on my room door. Startled, I sit up in bed, looking around frantically. Before I can stand to answer it, Conrad opens the door wide and strides in. Seriously, I don’t know why he even wasted the time to knock in the first place.
He sits on my bed and lies back, hands behind his head. I slide over to give him room, like I’m the intrusive one. He doesn’t say a word, just lies there for an untold amount of time while I sit there and look at him.
Finally, he looks over at me and grins. If I didn’t know him, I’d think it was friendly, but I know he’s up to something. I brace myself for his crap.
I’m not disappointed. “I need clothes for the next few weeks. I have my baskets already in the laundry room. Have them done by the time I get back from the club. Washed and folded.”
Keeping my groan to myself, I pick up my phone and check the time. It’s almost ten thirty. I’ll be up all night if I have to do his laundry. Knowing Conrad, he saved it all up just for this. If I tell him I can’t because I have to wake up early, he either won’t care or he’ll beat me for saying no.
Luckily, we have a heavy-duty front load washing machine and dryer.
Brushing the hair that escaped my ponytail out of my face—I took my braids out so I could redo them before my flight—I rub the remaining sleep from my eyes. Looks like I won’t be getting much more sleep. I’m glad training won’t start until the following day.
“Okay, I got it,” I tell Conrad.
“You’d make a good wife, you know that?” He barks a laugh as he leaves my room, not bothering to shut the door.
That’s what I feel like here. A 1950s housewife. Thankfully, all I have to worry about is chores and not warming someone’s bed.
Figuring I’d better get started now, I swing my legs off the bed, put on some pajama pants, and head to the laundry room.
It’s close to three in the morning when I’m finished. Conrad still isn’t back, so I’m in the clear and don’t fear him bursting in my room to wake me up. I left his clean clothes in his room, folded like he requested and put a note on his door. I’m gambling with how he’ll take the note, but I hope he’ll be so blitzed he won’t be able to come in my room to start shit.
I pick up my phone to set my alarm for a few hours from now, when I see I have a message from Michael waiting for me. Even though I’m dog tired, I can’t help but smile.
Michael: I’m really excited about taking the trip with you tomorrow. It can be fun if you want it to be.
Without thinking about the time, I shoot him a message back.
