CHAPTER SIX
Summer
I lean back against the white door, ignoring the door knob jabbing into my hip, and close my eyes.
Taking a few steady breaths does nothing to calm my racing heart.
Why, after what he did, does he still have the power to make me weak in the knees?
He looks at me and the entire world around me falls away, and I feel like I’m stuck in a fervent haze.
And my god, his voice... I’ve never known anyone else who can make the simplest sentence sound downright sexy.
“Are you okay?” Milly whispers, pulling me from my thoughts and reminding me I’m not alone.
I move over to my bed, nodding. “Yes. Of course.”
“You didn’t need to lie to him,” she states quietly. “You can tell people I’m weird.”
My heart aches for the little girl who felt like she needed to grow up quickly. I guess, moving around from town to town, never really having a home, and then losing your parents, will do that to you. “You aren’t weird, Milly. You are bright, intelligent and gifted.”
“I’m weird,” she grumbles and rolls her hazel eyes up at me.
I tuck her hair behind her ear. “You aren’t weird.”
“I don’t have friends because they don’t understand me. And I don’t understand them.”
“Most kids haven’t been through what you have, Milly. You adjusted the only way you knew how to. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
A yawn slips past her lips. “Don’t tell Malia, but I really am tired. Her head gets big if she’s right all the time.”
I chuckle and reach for her dress. “Then let’s get you dressed for bed,” I mutter. “And don’t think I don’t know you played me to sleep in here.”
She lifts up her arms as I tug the nightie over her head. “I would never play you, Summer. You’re my favourite cousin,” she states, but I can hear the deceit in her voice. “And now you don’t need to worry about Reid wanting to sleep over. I know you like him.”
“I’d like to run him over with my car,” I grumble.
She lies back down, but this time, kicks the covers down to get under the blanket. “No, you like, like him. I heard you praying for him in the car.”
I narrow my eyes down at her and poke her in the ribs gently. She squeals, moving away with a smile on her face. I point at her, trying to keep the grin off my face. “What happened in the car stays in the car.”
She tugs at the imaginary zip across her lips. “My lips are sealed.”
I lift the blanket up over her chest. “Will you be okay whilst I go downstairs to check my laptop is still there and clean up a little?”
She nods, sinking into the pillow, her eyes already closed. I move over to my drawers and grab my own pyjamas, then head to the bathroom.
It doesn’t take me long to get changed into my silk pyjama shorts and camisole. Once I’m finished, I walk over to the sink and stare into the mirror. I press my hands to my flushed cheeks, and for the first time since getting back from work, I let everything that has happened sink in.
My boss is a bitch, which isn’t news to me.
What is news is just how cold she truly is to the core.
I’m worried about my cousins when it comes to her.
I haven’t been under Katherine’s charge long enough to get to know her personally, but I have witnessed how tenacious she can be.
She’s not someone to hold back or mince words.
My cousins are just as strong-minded. Only, in the past, I’ve learned they tend to hit back harder.
Physically hurt one of them, you’ll wake up in the hospital.
Rob them, you’ll find your accounts empty.
Try to mentally mess with them, you’ll find yourself visiting a mental institution.
Double cross them, and you’ll find everyone in your life has turned their back on you, because they’ll make sure of it.
The two going up against each other scares me.
Then there are the secrets my cousins are hiding. I can’t help but wonder what those secrets are. Yet I know wondering is as far as I will go. If they want to tell me, I’m here, and if they don’t, that’s fine too. It doesn’t change anything between us.
My thoughts turn to the break-in. My hands begin to shake as I place them down on the sink when I think of someone being in our house. I feel like I’ve been placed in a thriller television show with no upcoming ending. None of it seems real.
“Get it together,” I mumble.
I pull myself together and put a cardigan on, then head for the stairs, leaving lights on as I go. Whilst I might be a grown-arse adult, every horror movie I’ve watched has come flooding back. There is no way I’m going to risk someone hiding in the shadows.
I freeze when I get to the top of the stairs and I hear the television on downstairs.
My heart races as I step back from the top step.
I mentally kick myself for leaving my phone in the bag at the bottom of the stairs, but even if I had it, the battery is dead.
I tiptoe my way to Makayla’s room, knowing that’s where she hid Malia’s bat.
I grab it from its place near the door and quietly make my way back to the top of the stairs.
I can do this.
I’ve taken self-defence classes.
Or a self-defence class.
I was kind of pushed into it by Mark, who kept preaching that us women needed the upper-hand; and if I wanted him to help me move, I had to go. He just didn’t say how many classes I had to attend.
Now I’m wishing I continued to go.
I slowly creep down the stairs, treading on each step softly and quietly, one at a time. I hold my breath as I reach the bottom, and then rush into the living room, lifting the bat up high over my shoulder and screaming, “Get out!”
“Woah, woah, woah, chill the fuck out,” Reid screeches, holding his hands up as he uses the cushioned seats on the sofa to push himself away from me.
I drop the bat to the floor, panting heavily. “What the fuck are you still doing here? You scared me half to death.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who is scared to death. What the hell were you thinking coming in here screaming like that? I could have had a heart attack.”
“I would be more worried about getting your brains bashed in,” I yell. “Jesus Christ, Reid.”
“I’d never have let the bat touch me,” he remarks, then I notice his gaze on my chest. It moves down to the tiny bird tattoo on my hip that has ‘make it count’ in script to the side of it.
His eyebrows pull together, his lips pressing in a firm line.
I pull my cardigan together, hiding my body and pyjamas.
“What are you still doing here?”
He arches an eyebrow. “What kind of guy would I be if I left a woman and her kid alone after they just had an intruder?”
The irony of that statement isn’t lost on me, but I don’t point that out. “Not my kid. And I’m fine. You said you were going.”
He picks up the remote, his gaze going to the television as he presses play. “No, I said I’ll let you get her changed. I didn’t say anything about leaving.”
I think back, and I hate that the fucker is right. He didn’t say he was leaving. He just said, I’ll let you get her changed. “You can go,” I tell him, and walk over to my bag to check for my laptop. Thankfully, it’s still there.
“I’ve got food coming,” he explains. “I’ll wait until your cousins are home before I leave.”
“Doesn’t Jaxon need his car?”
“He’s going to take one of the work vans home and collect the car in the morning. He’s still at the bed and breakfast though. The tyres are being changed and he’ll bring your car back tomorrow. He doesn’t like leaving Lily and the baby for too long otherwise he would have done it tonight.”
My god, he has an answer for everything.
“Why have you ordered food here?”
“Because I’m starving and Landon got us banned from deliveries.”
“How do you get banned from takeaways?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Beats me. But they put the phone down as soon as they get our address. It’s weird though, the pizza guy seemed surprised about my order and asked if I was sure I didn’t want anything else.”
My cheeks heat. “We order extra in this house. My cousins like their food.”
I feel awkward just standing here and I think Reid picks up on it.
“You’re making the place look untidy. Just go about your business and forget I’m here.
I ordered an extra pizza in case you were hungry, but if you don’t want it, I’ll happily finish it off.
Or if you want to go to bed, I can turn the television down. ”
There is no way I’m going to bed knowing he’s down here. “I’ll sit down here and do some work.”
His gaze goes back to the screen. “Suit yourself.”
Oh my god, he is infuriating.
“Would you like a drink?” I bite out.
“Already got one, but you may as well get me another whilst you’re up,” he states, his gaze flicking over to the coffee table.
I focus on the bottle of cider and look up, closing my eyes. “Malia is going to kick me out.”
“Why? You didn’t cause the break-in,” he grumbles, glancing around me when I step in front of the television.
“Clearly. She’ll kick me out because I’ve invited another thief into the house. They are her ciders.”
He arches a brow. “I didn’t steal them. I made myself at home. I deserve that cider.”
“Why? You didn’t get stabbed.”
“I could have done,” he argues. “Do you know how much it sucks not to be able to scratch an itch over a wound? Let me tell you, it sucks a lot. And don’t even get me started on my tattoo that now looks like it’s missing a finger.”
Dumbfounded, I can only stare at him for a moment, before I gather myself. “What?”
He lifts up his shirt, revealing his rippling abs, and I suck in a breath. “See, four fingers. I thought getting stabbed would up my street cred. Instead it makes me look like I’m bad at math.”
I shake my head. “I don’t even know what to say.”
This conversation has gone completely off track, and I know if I ask what I want to ask, it will landslide, and my brain is already malfunctioning over all the other information I’ve absorbed tonight.