Текст книги "Addiction"
Автор книги: Shantel Tessier
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 27 страниц)
My eyes lower as I look down at his hand grabbing my wrist. The bright blue ink ends at his wrists. I can see the top of a name but the black band of his watch covers the lower half of it. My eyes make their way up as I trace the blue tribal work and come to more writing on his forearm. Let go of today. Hold on to hope for tomorrow. It makes me feel sad for this guy. What kind of childhood did he have? Did his parents do drugs like my father did? Some people just can’t escape their past. Maybe this life was inevitable for him.
“Think about it,” he says bringing me out of my thoughts. With his free hand, he picks the card up from the table and places it in my hand. Then he lets go and walks out the front door with a smirk on his handsome face.
***
I place the car in park in my driveway and get out with a heavy sigh. I’m exhausted. I worked another double today, and my feet and back hurt. Throwing my purse over my shoulder, I walk into the house. My tired legs stumble to a stop when I see Blane and Savannah cuddling on the black leather couch.
“Hey, princess,” Savannah says smiling up at me. Her blond hair is down, and her face is free of makeup. “You okay?” she asks frowning when I don’t return it.
I nod. “Just tired.” I point at the couch. “Where did that come from?”
“Case brought it over today,” Blane answers, lifting a beer to his mouth. He doesn’t bother to look away from the TV that I’m also guessing Case brought over since ours was destroyed in the break-in.
“Case?” I ask skeptically.
Savannah nods. “Yeah, he brought a few things over today.” She points a finger behind her to the kitchen. “He brought some plates and glassware. He said he knew someone who had some extra stuff lying around and they weren’t using it.”
“I bet he did,” I mumble. The guy was just making his rounds today. He’s trying to butter everyone up so I’ll be the only one to hate him. I open my mouth to tell them about him coming by to see me today, but I decide against it. It’s none of their business. Blane knows how I feel about him, and if I tell them he came to offer me a job, it will just make him look better. “Is anyone else thinking guilty conscience?” I ask placing my hand on my hip.
Blane doesn’t even bother to answer that question or even look at me. And that’s fine; I don’t really care to talk to him either.
“He didn’t do it,” Savannah says rolling her eyes in a way that makes her look annoyed I could even think that. “But he said he is gonna ask around to see what he can find out. Apparently, he has connections in this town.” Her excitement for Case is annoying.
“And by connections, you mean if someone tries to sell our stolen shit, he will be notified? Since he is into illegal activity in this town,” I say with sarcasm.
“I’m going to bed,” Blane announces flatly as he stands from the couch, clearly still not happy with me. He looks down at Savannah with a cocked eyebrow in question if she’s gonna follow him or not.
“I’ll be right there,” she tells him with a soft smile.
He shrugs his shoulders and mumbles, “Suit yourself,” then he walks out of the living room and down the hall while downing the rest of his beer.
She sighs heavily as she watches him leave the living room. She then looks up at me. “It’s gonna get better.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?” I question.
She runs a hand through her blond hair. “He’s just mad.”
I huff. “Well, so am I. He’s into something that he shouldn’t be in. And our house …” I look around at the black leather couch and matching loveseat. The TV and kitchen … “This guy has us right where he wants us,” I say frustrated.
“Maybe he’s just trying to be a nice guy,” she offers.
I laugh at that. “He takes what is important to us and then replaces it to make himself look better,” I argue. “It’s how he works to gain our trust.”
She stands from the couch and walks over to me. “I’ve never known you to judge someone so much,” she says with a frown.
“And I’ve never known you to bury your head in the sand,” I counter with bite.
She sighs heavily and her shoulders slump. “Taylor, I have been your friend for a very long time and you know that I love you, but I’m also in love with your brother. Please don’t make me pick sides,” she begs softly.
“Don’t worry.” I throw my hands up as I walk past her. I’m tired of this conversation and just tired in general. “I wouldn’t make you choose between the two of us like he is.” And with that, I walk into my bedroom and slam the door shut.
CHAPTER SIX
CASE
I walk down the stairs as the lights come on in the club. It had been a pretty normal Saturday night. There were some fights but nothing too bad. The last person walks out the front door as Miller comes toward me from the back hallway.
“Case,” he calls out before he reaches me.
“What’s up, Miller?” I ask as I look down at my phone. I’ve been checking it like crazy since I gave Taylor my card earlier today at the coffee shop. So far, nothing! I figured she would at least call or text me once she got home and saw that I had dropped off some things for their house.
“We have a problem,” he yells from across the club.
I place my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and look up at him. “What is it?” I demand.
He starts to walk off, and I follow him.
The club has a reputation, but what club doesn’t? People go out for a night just wanting to have some fun, and they end up drinking too much. They may even end up finding someone in the club who had a little something that will help them get high. It may be illegal, but it’s nothing new. However, it does tend to cause problems and fights.
Miller is in a mad dash for the back exit of the club, and I know shit isn’t gonna be good. Whenever we have a problem or a fight breaks out in this club, security throws them out back in the alleyway. And that’s where we take care of it. It’s hard to calm down a fight or find out the problem when you have music blaring in your ears and lights flashing all around you.
My jaw tightens as I watch Miller lift the back of his black security shirt and draw his gun from his holster right before he shoves the double doors open.
He’s always extra cautious while I, on the other hand, am not. I like a fight. I fucking welcome them most of the time. Beating the shit out of someone with my bare hands helps me relieve stress.
We step out into the dark alley. A single light humming and flickering on top of the building is all that allows us to see anything. Two men stand with their backs to us. They both turn to face Miller and me as they hear the door shut close. Brecken is holding another guy on the ground, arms pinned behind his back, blood dripping from his busted face.
“What’s going on?” I ask with a sigh. I’ve seen worse. It looks more like a nuisance than a problem.
It’s as if they just realize Miller has a gun because they both take a step back at once, throwing their hands into the air in surrender.
Brecken is the first one to speak. “Seems this sorry piece of shit likes to put his hands on women.” The man he holds on to lets out a whimper.
I look at the other two men standing around since the man on the ground is no threat to us at the moment. “Why are the rest of you out here?”
They both stand, their eyes darting back and forth from Miller to me. “He asked you a question,” he shouts.
“We had no idea what his intentions were,” one says as he stumbles backward.
“And what was that?” I ask looking back at the man Brecken holds. He moans in pain as he tightens his grip on the man’s arms.
“He’s fucking some bitch. He said she was cheating on him and she wasn’t answering his phone calls, so he needed to come up and see her. When he said where she worked, we all decided to come up here and party. But I swear we took no part in what he did to the woman.”
“Where is the woman?” I demand looking around once more, hoping this isn’t going to end with her needing a hospital visit. I stay away from them. Too many questions.
Brecken looks up at me, jaw tight and dark eyes blazing with rage. “Rachel. The woman is Rachel,” he answers through gritted teeth.
I drop my head and run a hand through my dark hair. The woman we shared a bed with this morning. The woman we share quite often. Of course, it’s fucking Rachel. The only woman in this world who knows who I truly am. The only woman who knows just how fucked up I am. And this is typical Rachel drama. She picks men who like to get physical, and I don’t just mean during sex. But you can’t feel sorry for her because she’s not all that innocent. She likes the drama. She feeds off it. And I know very well that she is cheating on this guy. Just this morning with Brecken and myself.
I look back up at Brecken as he smashes the guy’s head into the concrete and he cries out. “You take care of him,” I tell him.
He smiles widely, and I look at Miller. “You know what to do with them.”
I turn around with a flick of my wrist, open the back door, and enter the club on a mission to find Rachel. The first place I look is the women’s bathroom. When I find she’s not in there, I go to the locker room shared by the employees, and after there, I go to the bar thinking maybe she is counting out her tips. Still nothing. I make my way up the stairs, heading to my office because I can see down over the club best from up there. After several minutes go by and I don’t see her below, I figure she just went home, which would surprise me; she wouldn’t just leave after getting into it with anyone. Fighting turns her on. Maybe she left with another guy. There’s no telling really.
I spend the next few minutes shutting down my computer and then lock my office up for the night. I walk down to the end of the hallway and take the next set of stairs that leads up to the third level where I’ve been living for the last nine months since we opened the club.
It’s nothing fancy. I like that it’s all open. It has a small entryway and you can walk right into the living room. The kitchen is right behind it with a cutout window to see into the living room and front door. A hallway to the right leads to two bedrooms. The last door on the left is my bedroom. Tossing my phone onto my kitchen table, I start to unbutton my shirt as I proceed to the bedroom.
When I open my door, I come to a stop as I see Rachel lying on my bed. Already naked. I think back to the first time Brecken and I ever saw her. She was lying on a bed like she is now, but only she was unrecognizable, her face bloodied and bruised. Eyes swollen shut. Face and chest covered in blood. She had been beaten and left for dead. Thankfully, we found her in time.
I couldn’t get her out of my mind. She made me feel something inside I hadn’t felt in years. I had saved her. For once, I had made a difference. Three months after her accident, I took her on a date. I remember the first time we made love. I had looked down at her and wondered how someone could hurt this beautiful woman. Who would want to bruise her face? Because she was beautiful. Big brown eyes that were so beautiful, you could get lost in them. A touch that could set the coldest person on fire.
The second time we made love, she wanted it harder, rougher. It didn’t take long to realize what I was giving her wasn’t enough. By the third time we made love, she begged me to fuck her like a cheap whore. As if she were a slave, needing me to order her to do the naughtiest things she was too hesitant to do unless commanded.
I did it. I realized the more aggressive I got, the wetter she became. She loved my hand around her throat to the point of suffocation. She loved me to pull her hair to the point I ripped some out while I fucked her roughly in the ass. She loved the way I made her kneel as I fucked her mouth in a way that would be brutal to some. There were even times I stopped because I thought I was being too rough. But she begged me to continue. To push harder. To fuck her longer.
On our first date, I thought I saw myself falling in love with her someday. I thought she could be the woman to save me. But the more time I spent with her, the more I realized it wasn’t love. She was just another woman who was fucking crazy. And it turns out, my cock loves crazy!
The worst part is that I couldn’t feel sorry for her ‘cause it all felt so good to me. And who was I to judge what she liked? Needed? Everyone has an addiction to help them ease the pain. She had a rough life growing up. Her father had beaten her mother on a daily basis. She heard it night after night as he beat her and then fucked her. At the age of sixteen, she lost her virginity to a man who was twenty-one. After he was done with her, he ordered her to lay there while his friend had his way with her. After he was done, they both took her at the same time. I felt heartbroken for her, but she told me how much she liked it. Wanted it. How she begged them to do it over and over again.
One night, she came over while Brecken was at my house visiting. She asked me if we had ever shared a woman. When we told her no, she asked if we would like to. It only took us a second to realize what she was offering, and neither of us wanted to tell her no. We were two best friends getting to share one beautiful woman. No man would pass that up.
It didn’t take her long to place her hands on me. Slapping and punching, she would try to provoke me to hit her. The same with Brecken. We never would give her the fight that she wanted, but that didn’t mean we didn’t fuck the rage out of her. She needed an outlet, and sex was that for her.
“Case.” She sighs heavily. “What took you so long?” She reaches up and runs her finger along the cut on her lip, smearing the blood. She then lets out a moan when she places the end of her finger into her mouth. My cock starts to harden in response. Rachel is one of those women who no matter how fucking crazy she is, you still want her again and again because the fuck is just that good. Brecken and I both know that we’re not the only guys she fucks, but we also know we’re the only ones she comes back to. Even if we are the ones who have to clean up her messes.
I should ask her what she’s doing in my bed, but I know the answer—she wants to be fucked. Treated how she thinks she deserves, like trash. So instead, I say, “Why did you bring him into my club?” She knows I don’t tolerate shit like that in my club. It brings in unwanted attention. Cops show up. They ask questions. It leads to trouble I don’t care to mess with.
She whimpers as she arches her back. She slides her hands up her ribs and grabs a hold of her tits. She gasps as her hands move to her nipples, and she pinches them between two fingers. Her hips buck off the bed, and she pulls her knees up. “Case …” She sighs my name, and I lick my lips.
She stretches her hands above her head, placing her hand under one of my pillows. When she pulls her hand out from underneath it, she has a pair of handcuffs in her hand. They’re her favorite accessory. “I fucked up,” she says not sounding a bit remorseful. The sound of them tightening as she places one cuff around her right wrist and then places her hands behind her back. I hear the click of the metal as she cuffs her other wrist herself. For most women, that would be hard and maybe impossible, but Rachel has had a lot of practice.
“What are you gonna do to me?” Her eyes drop down to my black belt, and I understand perfectly what she wants. Punishment. And my cock hardens to the point of pain knowing that she’s going to get off on that.
My hands go to my belt, and I very slowly undo it as her dark eyes watch my movement. Her lips part and she sucks in a breath as she gets up onto her knees as the sound of my belt slips through the belt loops of my jeans.
“You know I don’t tolerate such bullshit,” I say voice hard.
She whimpers as her body shudders, making her fake tits bounce. Her pink nipples are hard, and I can’t wait to wrap my lips around them and suck them into my mouth. “I’m sorry …”
I reach out and wrap my hand around her throat, cutting off her air. She looks up at me, and her dark brown eyes are half closed. This is her drug. This is what she needs in order to get by. I hear the clanking of her cuffs, and I smile down at her. She always tries to fight it because she likes the marks they leave.
I place my belt on the bed beside her. “Spread your legs,” I demand. She does as I say, and I run my hand between her thighs, very slowly inching my fingers up to cup her pussy. She tries to jerk away when I push a finger into her to see how wet she already is. I close my eyes and let out a sigh as I think of all the things I’m gonna do to her; only, it’s not her face I see. It’s Taylor.
No! My eyes spring open. She’s off-limits. “Don’t pretend to be sorry,” I say my voice hardening, pissed that I thought of Taylor that way. I lower my lips close to hers. “But I’m gonna make you sorry …”
CHAPTER SEVEN
TAYLOR
“Shoot,” I hiss as I slam my hand down on my steering wheel. My car rolls to a stop as I guide it to the shoulder of the road. Smoke is billowing out of the hood. I quickly get out of it and make my way to the front of my car. I cuss myself as I try to open the hood. But it’s hot to the touch.
“Son of a bitch,” I say between clenched teeth as I try again. I remove my fingers and shake them as the hood pops open. I place my fingers in my mouth on my hot tongue to help with the burn. Then I shove the hood open. Smoke pours out; the sting of it on my skin has me taking a few steps back. I don’t see any real fire. I look around, but all I see is black smoke. But just to be sure, I walk back to my car and grab the bottle of water from my console. I pour it over my engine and the sound of something sizzling makes me cringe. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
I sigh, running a hand through my dark hair. Now, what do I do? I pull my cell out of my back pocket and look at the time. I should be walking into work right now. I go to my recent call log and hit send when I see Savannah’s name. It rings six times and then goes to voicemail.
Frustrated, I call my brother’s phone. It goes straight to voicemail. I stomp my foot as I call out a curse. They’re probably in bed together. Ugh. It is a Sunday after all. They always sleep in on Sundays. I haven’t seen them since last night after I pissed them both off. I guess they could just be ignoring me.
I knew we should have gotten a home phone. I’ve been trying to talk them into it for over a year, but no, they say we don’t need a house phone when we have cell phones. Bullshit!
I call my work. I smile when I hear a co-worker, Duncan, answer the phone. “Duncan. Can you come and get me? My car broke down.”
“I’m sorry, Taylor, but I can’t. I’m the only one here at the moment,” he responds sadly.
“What about Mr. Binsen?” I say as I look around to see no cars driving on this back road. I always go this way in the mornings. It’s less traffic than the highway.
“He’s not arriving for another thirty minutes.”
“Dammit,” I shout, slamming my hood shut. “Okay. I will be there, but I’m just gonna be a little late,” I inform him before we hang up.
I make my way back to my car now that I know it’s not actually on fire, but smoke continues to pour out from under the hood. I plop down in my driver’s seat as I call Savannah once more. This time when she doesn’t answer, I leave her a not so nice voicemail to call me back as soon as she gets my message.
I hang up and lean my head back against my headrest and let out a frustrated breath. This cannot be happening. I can’t be late. I’m a great employee. I arrive early. What in the hell have I done for karma to hate me so much these last two weeks? The thought of how hateful I have been and Case pops into my mind, but I quickly squash it.
I lift my head from the headrest and look down at my phone in my lap. I can call Mr. Binsen. Duncan said he wasn’t at work yet. I could have him swing by and pick me up. I dial his number, but his voicemail picks up after the second ring.
“Doesn’t anyone answer their fucking phones?” I yell into my car. Geez, it’s as if nothing can go my way.
I’m about to call Savannah again when something in my cup holder catches my attention. A black business card scripted with bright blue writing. Seven Deadly Sins. Once my shift was over last night, I had just thrown it in my car. I meant to take it inside last night and throw it away, but I forgot about it.
I pick it up and run my finger over the number at the bottom of the card. Could I call him? Should I call him? No! Absolutely not! After all, this is the guy who I thought broke into our house, right? But he did help us out by replacing some of the stuff we had stolen. I roll my eyes. He only did that to make you think he was innocent. This is also the guy who threatened you just a week ago. And the guy who showed up at your work yesterday offering you a job you would never take. What is his angle?
I throw the card down on the passenger seat and pick up my phone. I dial Savannah’s number one last time. Ring … ring … ring … ring … Hello, you’ve reached Savannah. Leave me a message … I hang up with a shout of frustration.
I eye his card once more, and my mind fills with desperation. What other choice do I have? I don’t, really. I mean would he really hurt me? He said yesterday that he wouldn’t do anything to me because I haven’t made a move. I haven’t called the cops, so I’m really no threat to him at the moment. I’ve called everyone I know who could help me. My friends from school are either back home with their parents for the summer or away on vacation. I have no other option. And if he’s willing to help us out with what we had stolen, then maybe he would help me out since I’m in a bind …
“Fuck it!” I snatch the black card out of the passenger seat and dial the number before I change my mind, but not before I dial #67. If he doesn’t even answer like everyone else, then I sure as hell don’t want him to call me back in an hour or two.
I tap my foot against the floorboard as I hear the first ring. “Case.” I freeze when his deep voice comes across the line. Shit! It only rang once; I wasn’t expecting him to answer at all. “Hello?” His voice sounds rough from sleep.
Double shit! What do I say? My heart pounds in my chest. This was a bad idea. Very, very bad … “Hello?” he snaps, losing his patience.
“Hi.” I cringe as the octave of my voice is three times higher than normal. Why did you call this man? You hate him! But I need to get to work. And if he is as bad as I think he is, I need to get on his good side. This could help me get there. Right?
“Who is this?” he demands, still sounding irritated. Great. I’ve pissed off a man who has already threatened me once. I’ve lost my mind.
“Hello, Case.” I roll my eyes at how breathless I sounded that time. Clearing my throat, I try again. “This is Taylor …”
“Taylor?” His voice has lost its edge. “Something wrong?” he asks quickly.
I actually laugh at how sincere that sounded. “No.” Just losing my mind, it seems. “Well, yeah,” I say as I look out my windshield and see the smoke still lingering around my car. “I was on my way to work. And well, my car caught fire…”
“What?” The tone of his voice makes a shiver run through me. This is not the type of guy you would wanna piss off. Just the sound of his voice causes me to cower. “Where are you?” he snaps.
“I’m sorry for calling you,” I say softly since he sounds so mad. “But I’ve called Savannah three times. She won’t answer. And then I called Blane once, and his phone went straight to voicemail. I then called work, but no one could come and get me. And then my boss. He didn’t answer,” I ramble. “I need to get to work.” I take a deep breath, realizing I forgot to breathe between words. “I don’t have anyone else …” He’s quiet, so I continue. “I would call triple A, but I don’t have it …”
“No. No,” he interrupts me.
“I just happened to have your card in my car.” I go back to my rambling. “And thought, maybe … I just need a ride to work. I’m already late as it is.” I start to bite my nails and stop. I pay too much money for them to do that. “I’m stuck here on the side of the road.”
“You’re on the side of the road?” he growls.
I look around at the deserted backroad. “Uh, yeah.”
“Son of a bitch,” he hisses. I frown at his choice of words. Is he mad at me? “I was driving when it just starting smoking. I pulled right over …”
“Are you sitting in your car?” he interrupts me.
“Yes.”
He huffs. “Stay in your car and wait for me.” I can hear a rustling of clothes and then the sound of a few doors slamming.
“I’m sorry again for calling you.”
I hear a beeping sound on his side of the phone and then an engine roar. “No worries. Just do what I said,” he orders. “I’m already in my car and pulling out of the club parking lot. Where are you?”
I sigh in relief. “Thanks so much. I will pay for your gas.” I cringe even after I say it. I don’t have any cash on me. But I do have my debit card on me. If it’s not already maxed out.
“No need for payment, Taylor. Now, where are you before I go the wrong way.”
I inform him of where I am, and he promises to be here as soon as he can. When I hang up, I realize what I just did. I just called a drug dealer. What if the police arrest him and go through his phone? I sigh in relief. I had blocked it. Well, one point for me.
I get out of my car and lean up against my trunk while I wait for him. I know he told me to sit in it, but I think I’d rather take my chances at another car hitting me as I stand on the side of the road than to be sitting in my car if it decides to go up in flames. Who knows what is really wrong with it and if my bottle of water really did any good.
About fifteen minutes later, I see a black truck coming around the corner. It’s the first vehicle I’ve seen since I pulled over on the side of the road and I stand up straight. I give a small smile as it starts to come to a stop behind my car. My first thought is that of course he drives an overly large jacked up truck. Trying to compensate for something? My second thought is that wasn’t very nice. He’s the only one who answered your phone call.
“Thank you …” I come to a halt and my words cut off when a man about my age jumps out from his lifted black Ford. A man who looks nothing like Case. Did he send someone to help me? Did he realize that I was where no one would find me? I immediately shake that thought from my mind. He said he was coming. And this guy is not Case.
The man smiles at me, showing off his jagged teeth as he pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head. Eyes so dark they look black look me up and down in a way that makes me uneasy. “Need help, little lady?” he asks with a Southern drawl.
“Uh, no,” I say, and his smile falls. “I have someone coming,” I add quickly. “Thank you, though.” I take a quick look around. Where is Case? I hope he gets here soon. All of a sudden, I feel too exposed standing outside of my car. I should have stayed inside where I could lock my doors.
He looks around after I do, and his smile returns. “Well, they’re not here yet. How about I take a look.” He winks at me and then walks past me to the front of my car.
“Uh … sure,” I say, nervously. What else is there for me to say? I already told him that I had someone coming, yet he insisted on helping.
“Pop the hood,” he orders as he looks down at it.
I gladly open up my car door and get inside of it. I pop the hood and then close my door. I’d take being blown up by a car explosion any day to being kidnapped, raped, mutilated, and left for dead on the side of the road.
I watch through the little crack at the bottom of my lifted hood out of my windshield as he reaches over and grabs something in my engine. He cusses as he jerks his hand back. “Will it start?” he asks loud enough for me to hear.
“No,” I lie. I’m not sure if it will. But trying to start it just sounds like a bad idea. What if that would cause it to explode?
“It’s still too hot to touch.” He comes into full view when he slams the hood down.
I wipe my sweaty hands on my thighs. Shit, it’s hot in here. I grab a hold of my shirt and pull it out quickly, trying to fan my chest. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” I say loudly hoping he can hear me since my car door is shut. That was nice, right? Even though I’m scared to death. He stands in front of my car and places his arms over his chest as he stares at me through my windshield.
I clear my throat when I realize he’s not going to budge. “Thank you?” I say in a high-pitched voice.
My heart starts to beat faster when he makes his way over to my driver’s side door. He opens it, and I try to give him a thankful smile when I step out. Why didn’t I lock myself inside? That would have been too obvious. Plus, he would probably just break my window open.
“A pretty lady shouldn’t be out here alone,” he says, shutting my door.
“Come on. I’ll give you a ride into town,” he offers, and I take a step back, pushing myself up against the car as my heart pounds in my chest.
Oh, Lord help me! “He should be here any moment.” Let him know you have a man coming. Let him know that someone knows you are here.
As I mention the word he, his dark black eyes narrow. I reach behind me to grab my phone out of my pocket. I need to call Case again. Just as I grip my phone, he goes to open his mouth, but he looks up behind me as I hear a roar of an engine. Please be Case! Please be Case. I have a feeling that I would be safer with Case, considering that he is friends with my brother, rather than this stranger who is giving me the major creeps.
The sound of the engine cuts off and I hear a door open and close. Please let this be Case and not some guy this creepy man has called to come help him.
I jump when an arm lands over my shoulders, but let out a breath the moment I look up to see Case staring down the man in front of us. The smell of his spicy cologne surrounds me, and I inhale sharply. “Hey, sweetie,” he says, not taking his eyes off the guy in front of us. “Everything okay? I came as soon as I could.” He bends down and gives me a soft kiss on my hair, but I can feel how tight his body presses up beside mine.
