15. To the icy depths of Antarctica
To the icy depths of Antarctica
Wade
“Ford? I need a favor.” How I managed to wait until he got back from his honeymoon, I don’t know.
“Hey, Wade. What’s up?” He sounds different. Relaxed.
“Well, I’m sure you heard who I have staying here?” I pace the floor of my bedroom and switch the phone to my other ear, casting a furtive glance towards my door.
She won’t come in. But I’m still wary.
There’s a long pause.
“Yep. I heard. Is that Quincy’s kid?” His question is quiet. But as only Ford can ask, it carries a heavy weight to the words.
“She is. I know everyone’s all worked up over it—”
Ford clears his throat. “Is she in with the two guys that hurt April?”
I know that’s the important part. I get it.
“No. She was drug in after that all went down. I got proof.” Sucking in a deep breath, I wait to see what he says next.
He takes forever before he speaks again. “Okay, what’s the favor?”
Whew. First hurdle jumped.
“Well, this is gonna sound kinda funny.” I sit on the disheveled blankets at the end of my bed. “I could use April’s help—”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” he grunts. “Saving that Evans girl is on you. But she tried to blow Blue up. April’s not coming within three miles of her.”
My fist clenches and bounces off my thigh in an effort to remain calm. “That’s not what I want, either. This girl has nothing, I was hoping April could suggest some clothes. That’s all. I didn’t think that Lori or Libby would want to help, and I don’t know many women.”
“What about that female deputy?” he growls.
Damn it. “Not a good idea,” I sigh. “Never mind. I’ll see what I can come up with.”
“I wish you luck, buddy. But I’m keeping my wife safe.” Ford lets out a long breath, then hangs up.
Well, fuck.
I guess it’s time to take matters into my own hands.
She can’t leave without her monitor going off. But I can.
My knuckles pause before striking the wood of her door. Am I an idiot for even bringing her in?
Do I trust her in my house ?
Maria would have taught her right from wrong. Maybe?
With a rapid succession of taps, I stand impatiently waiting for her to answer.
“Yes?” She opens her room, hugging the handle as she fixes me with her obsidian eyes.
My useless tongue feels as if it’s tripled in size.
She’s wearing only a tiny tank top and shorts, leaving very little to the imagination. The thin fabric hugs the curves of her breasts, highlighting her tight nipples under the swatch of purple and gold hues.
In a failing effort to cover my surprise, I drop my gaze to the hardwood floor and her bare feet.
“I’m gonna run to town. Make me a list of basics.
” Holding out a pen and paper, I steal a glance up her thighs pressed together, then focus over her dark hair in a pony tail to stare out the far window. “
“That’d be great. The afternoon sun makes this room hot. I’d love a few more cooler clothes.” Her fingers brush mine when she takes the page. “I’d hate to have to run around naked.” Her lower lip tugs between her teeth with a seductive curl tugging up the corner of her mouth.
She’s going to kill me.
“I’ll bump up the air. I ain’t home during the day much, so didn’t even think about it.” My voice tries to catch. “I’ll be leaving in ten.” I sound as gravelly as Ford did.
Pivoting on my heel, I nearly run into the wall trying to get away from her.
I’m gonna crank this place to the icy depths of Antarctica. Then she’ll have to wear a damn parka.
Like that’ll fix it.
Shucking out of my uniform, I have to stuff my half-hard dick into my jeans before tugging on a loose white t-shirt.
I don’t want to be on official business for this shopping trip.
Padding out to the living room to put on my boots, I stop mid-stride to see the round heart shape of her ass bending over in front of the fridge, her snug purple shorts riding up to show the swell of the top of her thighs.
God damn. What the hell did I invite into my home?
“Do you actually eat these?” She holds a package of hot dogs by the very corner with a sour wrinkle of her nose.
“You know these will give you a heart attack.” The plastic crinkles as she shakes it in my direction before tossing it into the bottom drawer of the cooler.
“Can you maybe get something green? I can make us a big salad for dinner.”
A groan of distaste sneaks out of me when I flop onto the couch. “You can have the rabbit food, I’ll have the nitrates. It’s awfully sweet to think you care about my heart, but it ain’t your concern.”
Her big brown eyes widen, then roll so only the whites show. “You’re ridiculous. I’m just trying to say ‘thank you’ for letting me stay here. Fine, get some chicken for on top.”
“Add about five pounds of bacon, and I might consider it,” I grumble, dropping the leg of my jeans over the top of my cowboy boot.
Her very audible snort is followed by the sound of her bare feet on the hard wood.
“I’ll convince you. You need to stay alive long enough to find out who has my sister, remember?
” She stands in front of me, one hand on the bare skin flashing over the hem of her shorts, the other extending the scribbled list.
I’m level with her belly button winking at me from under her shirt.
The walls feel like they’re closing in on me. Rushing to stand, I snatch the paper and stuff it into my pocket without looking at it.
With all of the blood rushing to my crotch, the chance of dying from being lightheaded is a very real possibility.
“Don’t wait up, mommy ,” I say sarcastically, striding towards the exit. And freedom.
She kneels onto the cushions, propping her elbows on the back of the couch giving me an excellent view of her cleavage. “Don’t worry, daddy .” She draws out the word, punctuating it with an ample pout. “I know how to keep myself occupied.”
I can’t do this.
Every time I stretch out a sleeve, or check a size of a pair of leggings, I keep picturing her putting them on. How they’d look on her.
Or how she’d take them off.
This is not for the faint of heart. I’m tempted to call Ford again and ask if he can meet me here with April.
“Finding everything okay?” A bored woman with a vest and an ID badge asks me as she steps past to hang up some clothes.
“Um, yea. Trying to find a few outfits for—” What the hell do I call Elena?
She’s not my friend.
“—um, someone.” I finish weakly.
The woman squints, knitting her brows. “Just some random person? That’s very…generous.” With a side shift, she adds space between us.
Shit.
“No, sorry. There’s a, well, homeless lady that put out a wishlist.” I hold up the folded note, giving her my best hopeless expression. “I’m just trying to figure it out, and it isn’t exactly my wheelhouse.”
Her affect smoothes. “Oh, that’s very nice of you. Do you want some help?
“You’d be my hero.” I feel as if I’m going to collapse.
Within moments, she’s piled my arms with all sorts of clothes. Moving quickly, I don’t even have time to register each garment before it’s buried.
“This lady young or old?” she quips over her shoulder, debating between two different shirts.
“Young. Twenty-two.” I know that for a fact.
It’s burned in my brain, standing in neon relief every time I think about her in any way other than a prisoner.
With my answer, she decides on the one with the word “angel” printed on it in pastels.
I almost laugh out loud at the irony.
My helper checks the piece of paper again, whisking through the store and spends a moment staring at a rack of—
Oh no.
A plastic hanger with three pairs of scanty panties land against my chin. Then another props against my mustache.
Fucking hell.
“I think we’re done,” I growl. I can’t handle it any more.
Wrestling the wad of outfits into a ball, I do my best to cover the lingerie items.
This is torture. I’m paying for what I did to Maria, and Quinn.
That little pink thong is going to live forever rent free in my head, wondering each day if Elena’s wearing it.
Or nothing.
God damn. Shifting the load, I carry it lower to cover the stiff bulge of my groin.
As the young guy at the register rings me up, my phone dings.
Ford: April said she’d help.
Me: Thanks, but I got it.
Ford: She wants to meet the girl.
Me: Why?
Ford: IDK. Thinks she can get info. For the record, I fucking hate it.
Me: K. Next week?
Ford: See you then.
The kid gives me a big eyebrow when he scans the unmentionables, like he’s sizing me up to the dainty fabric hanging from his fingers.
I glower at him silently, pulling out my wallet.
This whole thing is a damn mess. But maybe April can reach a part of Elena I can’t.
Shit. I want to keep as much distance as possible.