Chapter 28 Dex
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
DEX
Ismirk when I see them jealously watch her sleeping in my lap, soft snores escaping her plump lips.
She could have sat with anyone, and she chose me.
The biggest mother fucker in the room. In most rooms. Small scars cover my face, and yet here she is, sleeping in my arms like I’m not the biggest threat she’s ever met.
And I’m not, not to her. But to anybody who so much as looks at her wrong, I’m definitely a threat.
And for some reason, my little cuddle bug chose me.
Not only that, but she wants to help free me, even though that might mean taking out her brother, the only family member she has.
I can tell she’s still holding on to her love for him.
Maybe she thinks somewhere inside he’s redeemable, or maybe it’s just not that easy for her to let go.
Whatever the reason, with each lie that’s exposed, it’s chipping away at the connection she thought she had to him.
Soon she will see him the way we do, as a ruthless psycho who will always choose himself over her.
“What do you think we’re gonna find in Ashford Springs?” Pete asks, ripping open a bag of mixed nuts and grabbing a handful.
“Could be anything. A house, a warehouse, a field,” Sly says as he continues to set up one of the cell phones.
Jagger nudges my arm and passes me a smartwatch. I frown at him, then he points his chin at Wren.
“Oh, it’s for her.” I carefully place it on her wrist in my attempt not to wake her.
“I’m setting it up on all our phones so we can track her,” Sly adds, his eyes glued to his phone screen.
“Thank fuck for that,” Pete says, leaning back with an exhale of relief. Maybe we can actually sleep tonight. But as we all exchange weary glances, I know that none of us are sleeping well for a while. Having her stolen out of our room while we were asleep has put us all on edge.
But I have a plan for that. I smirk, thinking about what I picked up at the store today. Hopefully, she doesn’t object too much. It’s for her own safety after all.
“So we’re all in agreement that Robert has to die, right?” Pete asks before tossing a nut up and catching it in his mouth.
“Obviously,” Sly says, without raising his gaze.
“She’s gonna be upset,” I warn them. “She still loves him.”
“She’ll come around to it,” Sly says, finally lifting his head to look at her. “And if she doesn’t, we’ll just keep him locked up indefinitely.”
I’m not sure how that would work, especially since we are all wanted fugitives, but I figure there’s plenty of time to figure out the details.
“I’m going to order some food. You guys good with some Chinese?” Pete asks, pulling out his new phone.
“Get me some General Tso’s chicken,” I tell him, and he nods, placing the order as Jagger and Sly finish setting up all the phones and tablets.
By the time the food arrives, a sleepy Wren is yawning and stretching as she sits up in my lap.
“Hey, cuddle bug. Have a nice nap?” I ask as she rubs her eyes.
“Mmm, yes, you make a great napping chair.” She leans back into me with a contented smile on her face. My heart warms to see her like this, happy, snuggly, and in my lap, where she belongs.
I run my nose up the side of her throat, inhaling her delicious scent as I go. She smells like peaches mixed with my own scent, and I love it. I want her to always smell like me.
“What are you doing, Dex?” she whispers as I pause just below her ear and place a gentle kiss on her soft skin.
“Just enjoying your company,” I mumble as Pete starts to pass out plates.
“Have you ever had Chinese food before?” he asks, and she shakes her head.
Just like every mealtime with her, it’s filled with her trying new things and loving almost everything.
And as usual, her moans fill the room, making me hard.
It’s probably a good thing she’s now seated between me and Jagger, instead of in my lap.
I wouldn’t want to scare her off with how hard my cock is getting from those noises.
“Angel, if you keep moaning like that, I’ll—” Pete is cut off as Jagger tosses a fortune cookie at his face.
“You’ll what?” Wren asks innocently, utterly unaware of what she’s doing to us.
“Yeah, Pete? You’ll what?” I ask with a smirk as Jagger watches him with narrowed eyes.
He seems to think it’s his job to protect her innocence.
Pete wants to corrupt her. Sly is dying to get his hands on her, but agrees with Jagger most of the time.
And me? I’ll take her anyway I can have her.
Innocent, corrupted, she’s perfect no matter what.
I think she can handle more than Jagger and Sly believe she can.
They worry that if they corrupt that innocence, that she’ll come to her senses and realize that we aren’t exactly the good guys here.
Is her brother a giant piece of shit who planned to sell her? Yes. Did we kill his men because they were harming others? Also yes. But that doesn’t make us the good guys. We’re all guilty of murder, and whether they deserved it or not, we still did it.
“Never mind,” Pete finally answers, shoving a forkful of noodles in his mouth.
When we’re done eating, I switch on the TV and look for a show on animals or travel.
She seems to really enjoy watching both of those.
Jagger pulls her legs into his lap as she leans against me.
Settling on a show about elephants, I start to play with strands of her hair and take some comfort in the calm before the storm.
Robert was going to pay for what he did to her, what he did to all of us. I still can’t believe her brother is the same man who got me wrongfully convicted. How had none of us pieced it together before?
I glance down at her bag beside the couch and see the white edge of an envelope.
I reach inside, careful not to dislodge her from my side, and pull out the stack of letters she saved.
A warm smile covers my face. She ran away from home, and our letters were something she deemed worthy enough to bring with her.
I thumb through them and find one I sent her about five months ago. Opening it up, I let out a deep exhale, remembering her letter that I was responding to, one where she had finally admitted she had no other friends, except for us.
My dearest Wren,
Got your letter yesterday. Read it five times just to make sure I didn’t miss a single word.
It makes me sad that you don’t have any friends out there in the real world. That kinda hit me, sweetheart. You’ve been writing to four convicted felons for months, and somehow we’re the best company you got?
I don’t like the thought of you sitting alone somewhere, thinking you got nobody. Cause you do. You got us. Maybe that’s not what you meant when you signed up for this penpal thing, but tough luck, you’re stuck with us now. With me. Especially me.
If I could, I’d sit next to you and tell you stories until you laughed so hard you snorted. (Don’t lie, you seem like a snorter.) I’d teach you how to play cards and cheat. I’d make you forget every person who ever made you feel like you didn’t belong.
And yeah, maybe it’s weird that a guy in a prison is saying that. But sometimes the right people show up in the wrong places, yeah?
So here’s the deal: you keep writing, I’ll keep answering. That way, neither of us has to be alone.
Dex
P.S. I tried to find a flower in the yard to send to you, but there’s nothing but dirt and grass out there, so I drew you one instead.