Chapter 7 Spencer
Having a stranger in the house has me tossing and turning for the better part of the night.
Finally, around six in the morning, I call it quits and just give up on sleep in favor of getting up to get some coffee.
I’m sure Rick is already up, and we more than likely have shit to handle today.
Hopefully, it’s not anything extreme, considering I’m running on such little sleep.
I shower, throwing on jeans and a tee before grabbing my smokes from my nightstand, tucking my gun in my jeans, and sliding on my leather.
I make my way down the hall through the dining room and into the kitchen—the smell of coffee calling to me long before I enter. Rick is leaning against the counter next to the coffee pot as he waits for it to finish brewing. Hearing me, he looks up and gives me a nod in greeting.
I return it before taking a seat at the breakfast bar to wait.
Neither of us says anything, and a few minutes later, the pot is full.
Rick pulls down two mugs and fills them both up, throwing two scoops of sugar in mine before sliding it down the counter to me and putting milk in his own.
I bring it to my lips without hesitation, craving caffeine far too much to worry about how hot it is.
I down my coffee in just a few sips before getting up to rinse my cup and setting it in the sink. Rick is still standing at the counter drinking his coffee and lean against it to face him. “So what’s the word today from the boss?” I ask.
Rick doesn’t answer me. Instead, putting his finger to his lips, his eyes darting to the doorway, silently letting me know we aren't alone. Considering the time, I know Zander’s still asleep.
He sleeps until someone wakes him up, not that he would be an issue even if he were awake.
No, this would be about someone we don’t want to overhear, and considering Rick’s parents would be gone for the day already, that only leaves Jade.
He pushes off the counter with his coffee still in hand and heads out of the kitchen to where I assume Jade must be. I decide to follow him because what else am I going to do?
We find her in the living room, just down the hall and to the left of our rooms, opposite the dining room.
She doesn’t look over when we enter the room, but her posture stiffens, letting me know she knows we're here. She’s perceptive, I'll give her that, but with her past, it’s probably a skill she needed to stay alive.
I don't want to feel bad for this girl who’s been forcibly shoved into our lives.
But it’s hard not to when all I picture is her in that dirt pit and all the worst-case scenarios she could have had to endure.
For all we know, she could be an enemy, and not knowing has me questioning everything.
I know Rick understands based on how he was with her last night, but I wish we could just know for sure, so that we knew how to handle her.
Rick walks around the couch, looking down at her from where he stands. I lean against the wall, crossing my arms and kicking my foot back to brace myself. I don't need to be a part of this conversation, but I can still be here to observe or step in should shit hit the fan.
“Good Morning.” Her voice is light and even. Without seeing her face, I know she has that smile in place. The one that's so fake it hurts me to look at it. I’m unsure if the others noticed, but I can’t ignore it.
Last night, she let it slip when she went toe to toe with Rick, and I saw the pain in her eyes.
But more than that, the determination, the steel that I’m sure she built up after years of life handing her bullshit.
She uses that smile to distract people either from the fact that she’s a threat or that she doesn’t know what she’s doing.
Either way, it's fake, and I fucking hate it.
“Somehow, I figured you would still be asleep after all you went through yesterday,” Rick says to her, skipping pleasantries and getting straight to business.
His voice is even and much calmer than last night.
I guess we both had the same idea about feeling her out.
If she is an enemy, we can always handle her later—no need to make her life hell before that.
“I’ve learned to run on very little sleep; four hours is more than enough.” I huff, unable to hold it back, but neither of them even acknowledges me.
Yeah, Rick and her are like the same damn person with that mentality.
“So, what are you doing?” Rick’s question isn’t unkind, but it still holds an edge. Jade doesn’t seem to let it bother her, though I’m sure it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Well, I was trying to figure out the television.” She holds up the remote that had been sitting beside her as if to show us the evidence.
“But I couldn’t figure it out, so I decided to sit and look at this magazine instead.
” She holds up the magazine in question, just like she did the remote, her face scrunched up in distaste. “It’s beyond boring, though.”
Rick’s lip twitches, and it’s as close as the broody fucker will give her to a smile.
The magazine in question is one of Clair’s, all about fashion and famous people.
Maybe it won't be so hard to get along with her, but even before I can finish that thought, I know it wouldn’t be at all.
The night we found her showed me just how easy she is to be around.
The problem here isn’t her personality. It’s who she could be, the possibility of her being a threat.
“Though Clair left me this.” She leans forward and grabs something off the table, holding it to the side instead of to Rick, as if to show us both.
“She said I could go shopping. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wouldn’t be doing that.
” She flings the credit card back on the table as if it’s nothing, and I guess it wouldn’t be to her.
I doubt she’s ever had money of her own, just her body to barter with.
The thought makes me cringe, and Rick’s eyes flash up to meet mine before I shake my head, his focus returning to her again.
“Why?” Rick asks, seemingly as confused as I am. Who wouldn't want their own things, even if minimal, after living so long with next to nothing?
She lets out a laugh, and the venom in it startles me. Nothing about the sound resonates with her appearance. It’s far too dark, like a villain in a movie, instead of the small girl in front of us.
She stands abruptly and gestures to herself. “What part of me screams I know how to shop? Or could get myself there?”
“I can't even turn on the television, can’t cook. Hell, I don’t even know how to make a cup of coffee,” she huffs, and I can see from where I stand that admitting this is costing her.
I look from her to Rick and see the same understanding in his eyes before he looks back at her.
“Well, let’s fix that then,” he says simply before heading out of the room without a glance back at her as she sputters behind him, seemingly at a loss for words.
Rick disappears down the hall before she gets a grip on herself again, and she turns to face me.
Before she can come at me with questions, I give her a shrug and push off the wall, following Rick out of the room.
Instead of heading towards the kitchen, where I assume he is, I head down the hall to drag Zander’s ass out of bed.
I reach his door and go to enter, but before I do, movement catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.
I stand, watching her as she leaves the living room headed for the dining room, each step measured and unsure.
She spots me, where I stand frozen, my hand on the handle of Zander’s door.
I fight the urge to smack my head off the door for being caught watching her like a creep.
But before I can worry about making her uncomfortable, she surprises me by meeting my eyes and smiling.
My breath catches for a moment as I continue to stare back at her.
This smile isn’t the same as the one she’s been wearing like a mask since last night.
This smile is warm and genuine and almost appears playful.
Just as quickly as our eyes meet, she turns away and continues into the dining room after Rick.
Leaving me to question what the fuck I did to deserve it.
Zander’s loud snoring sounds past the door, pulling me out of my thoughts. With a shake of my head, I open his door and prepare myself for the fight I’m about to have trying to pull him from the bed.
Zander has always been a nightmare to wake up. I swear he could sleep through a hurricane, but he’s never slept through a threat.
It’s fucking wild.
It took me the better part of the last hour to get him out of bed, and it was still just barely. If he hadn’t smelled bacon and coffee, I would probably still be fighting with him. I left him to shower as I headed back down the hallway and through the dining room to the kitchen.
I slow down as I hear them talking, not wanting to interrupt.
“No, no. You have to let it cook. Stop poking at it.” Rick’s voice carries because he’s naturally a loud bastard, but I can hear the hidden laughter in his words.
He may be scolding her, but it’s not out of anger.
Trust me, you know when Rick’s angry and this isn’t it.
If I didn’t know better, I might even call it playful.
“But what if I burn them again?” Jade asks, and I can all but picture her look of distress as she says it.
I move forward toward the doorway and lean against it. Watching them bicker for a few minutes before Rick finally lets her flip the egg she’s been watching cook as if her life depended on it.
You can tell by watching her that she’s never done anything like this before. How she holds the pan and has to fight with the spatula to get it under the egg screams a lack of experience. I know because that was us when we were younger, but she doesn’t give up.