Chapter 10 #3
Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t like it when he said that. Trixie pushed him over onto his back and then straddled his hips. “You, Cayden Russo, are more than your rap sheet. You are more than an outlaw biker. You are more than a gearhead.”
“Am I?”
She nodded, leaning over him but didn’t kiss him. “You’re sweet and caring, cocky and talented. But most importantly, you are mine. And you know how protective and possessive I am with my…merchandise.”
He chuckled. “So I’ve heard.” He gripped her hips. “You are so fucking beautiful.”
She smiled. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Russo.” She leaned over to kiss him but paused when she saw his nose scrunch. “What?”
“Damn condoms are all the way over there.”
Trixie burst out laughing before jumping off him to grab a handful.
Now that the dam was broken, Cayden couldn’t stop telling Trixie that he loved her.
He woke her up Saturday morning by making sweet love to her.
She shattered in his arms, shouting his name.
He attempted breakfast in bed, but the eggs turned out worse than the steaks.
He ended up offering her Pop-Tarts on a plate.
Around lunch, they took a walk around the neighborhood so he could get his bearings. There was something so simply domesticated about walking down a sidewalk hand-in-hand with his girl. Their lunch was boxed macaroni and cheese.
“We’re going to have to take cooking lessons or something,” Trixie informed him as she licked her spoon. “I have a feeling our neighbors are going to see a lot of delivery vehicles otherwise.”
“Mrs. Wynn’s been trying to teach me,” he confessed. “I’m not very good at it. Mostly I chop or dice as directed and she combines everything together.” He gestured to the two-door fridge. “Just think how many pizza boxes we can stash in there.”
They wandered upstairs after lunch. Trixie showed him her childhood bedroom, the one she’d shared with AJ until she was eight.
She’d explained that the den on the first floor had been her father’s bedroom.
Lee and Marco had shared the one room with AJ and Trixie in the other.
After Lee had left for boot camp, AJ had moved in with Marco.
One by one, her hermanos had moved out of the house. Zyn had then moved upstairs.
Even though she’d moved out after she’d turned eighteen, her bedroom still housed most of her childhood items. Cayden wasn’t surprised in the least to find car posters instead of boy bands or Hello Kitty adorning Trixie’s walls.
“We need to decide what we want to do with these rooms.”
Cayden turned towards her. She was hovering by the open door. “We don’t need to decide right now. We can leave them as is.” He shrugged. “Maybe redoing these rooms can be a winter project.” She nodded, but he caught the pain in her eyes. Cayden approached, gripping her forearms. “What is it?”
Her lips tightened. “It was easier to redo downstairs. Up here, though…” She glanced over her shoulder at the closed door that had been her brothers’ and then father’s bedroom. “It’s a bit harder, I guess. I didn’t expect that.”
“Well,” he rubbed her arms up and down, “unless a condom breaks, we shouldn’t need a nursery for a couple of years at least. There’s no rush.”
He was gifted with her sly smile. “A condom breaking? That’s the best you can do?”
“Would you rather I ‘forget’,” he made air quotes, “to put one on?”
She slapped him upside the head. “No.” She scrunched her face in thought. “You are right, though. There’s no rush to get these rooms done. With just the two of us, we don’t need the room.”
Not wanting to subject her to more memories, Cayden took her back downstairs.
They popped some popcorn and watched a movie in the den.
For dinner, they boiled hot dogs on the stovetop and microwaved some baked beans.
Thankfully, they were both masters of the microwave and knew not to put the metal can in the appliance.
It was a simple meal, but one they were quite proud not to have messed up.
Plus, he greatly enjoyed the sight of her eating a hot dog. Noticing he was staring at her, she asked with her mouth full, “What?”
In place of an answer, Cayden ended up making love to her on the kitchen table. He’d luckily had a condom in his pocket. He was going to have to start stashing them strategically around the house. He had plans to take her in every room. Well, maybe not the ones upstairs. At least, not yet.
They accidently knocked the bowl of baked beans over, splattering them both.
Cayden carried her to the shower in their bedroom, loving the fact that it was theirs.
He’d never shared anything like a bedroom before with anyone—not including his jail cell.
That one hadn’t been by choice, so he didn’t count it.
He’d had to run out of the shower soaking wet to grab another condom and then rush back to her. They were laughing as he took her against the wall, the hot water spraying down on top of them.
Too hyped up on the exhilarating bliss of their coupling, they decided to grab the tub of Rocky Road Trixie had in the freezer and two spoons.
They curled up on the couch in the den. Trixie’s long legs lay over his as they passed the ice cream tub between them.
The TV was on, but they kept the volume low as neither was really paying attention to it.
Trixie was leaning forward to lick the drip of ice cream off of his chest when they heard a thump outside. They paused, faces scrunching. He was prepared to ignore it as a neighborhood noise when they heard it again, louder and closer to the house.
Carefully, Cayden moved Trixie’s legs off of his.
The den had two open doorways. The one faced the stairs to the second floor and the main door; the second opened into the living room opposite of the French doors.
The sound had come from the backyard. As much as he hoped it was racoons, his instincts told him it wasn’t.
He peeked through the dark living room. The shades were closed on the French doors, but he could see the glow of the outside light through them.
“Where’s your phone?” he asked softly. His was in the bedroom.
“Kitchen,” she whispered, picking up on his tension.
Cayden squatted low, making his way into the kitchen. He made sure to keep Trixie in his sights as he searched for her phone. He found it by the sink. He slid it across the hardwood floor towards her in the den. She had to stretch forward on her hands and knees to grab it.
“Stay there,” he ordered. “I’m going outside. If I’m not back in five minutes, you call 911.”
“I’m going with—”
His stern gaze cut her off. “You stay there. Promise me.”
She made frustrated face, but nodded. Still, she countered with, “Three minutes.”
He rolled his eyes. Keeping low, Cayden made his way to the back doors.
He put his back up against the wall by the electric fireplace.
It had been lit since Trixie had turned it on the day before.
Cayden moved the curtain to peek outside.
He couldn’t see anyone, but the hairs on the back of his neck told him someone was out there.
He paused. With the end of his parole term so close, was he being stupid and selfish not calling the police right away?
Was he risking Trixie’s life by not having her call now?
What were the chances that a burglar decided to break into their house on their second night in residence?
He didn’t have enemies, per se, but he was sure there were some very disappointed people who were displeased he’d quit the life.
Could one of them have tracked him down?
He glanced back towards the den. Trixie was kneeling by the doorway, partly hidden from view by the living room couch.
“Call,” he mouthed to her. Even if his term was extended or he was placed back under house arrest, even if he went back to jail, he wasn’t willing to risk Trixie’s life. He’d pay any price to ensure her safety.
Cayden opened the back door and stepped onto the wooden patio.
For a second, he stared out at the empty backyard.
Then he caught movement to his left and jumped as a man stumbled forward, clutching his left shoulder.
On instinct, Cayden caught the man before he face-planted onto the porch floor. He smelled the blood before he saw it.
Cayden laid the man down on his back, kneeling by him. “Trixie!” he called, his eyes landing on the bleeding wound on the man’s left shoulder. “We need an ambulance!”
“No…” Cayden looked down at the man, surprised he was still conscious. “No cops.”
Like Cayden wasn’t going to call the cops? He stared unblinkingly at the stranger. “You’ve been shot and you’re on my back porch—”
The gasp from behind him drew his attention to Trixie. She pocketed her phone and rushed forward to kneel by his side. Cayden had a suspicious feeling she hadn’t completed the call.
Trixie started pulling up his shirt. Cayden had to lift his arms so she could.
She knelt over the man, pressing Cayden’s shirt into the obvious bullet wound in the man’s left shoulder.
What made the situation all the more distressing was how she touched his face with familiarity. “Stay awake. Look at me.”
The man blinked his eyes open. He attempted a smile that failed. “Trix… No cops. Promise me.”
“No.” Her eyes widened, her face paling. “You’re shot. You need an ambulance. I have to—”
“Trix.” The man’s bloody hand shot out to grip her wrist. “No hospital. No cops. Trust me.”
Cayden watched in horror as Trixie’s head ducked, her hair falling loosely over the man’s bloody chest. It was slight, but she was nodding. “Fine. I promise. No cops.” She turned to Cayden. “Help me get him up.”
“Who is he?” Cayden demanded. The man was tall and built. He had a few days hair on his chin and upper lip. His long black hair was caked in blood, dirt, and sweat. He guessed the man to be late thirties, maybe forty.
“Cayden, please.”
He didn’t like it, but he also had never heard such desperation in her voice. Cayden reached forward and picked up the man. Damn, he was heavy. Trixie followed awkwardly, trying to keep pressure on the wound.
Not knowing where else to take him, Cayden brought the man into their bedroom and placed him on the bed.
Trixie turned on the lamp on the nightstand and the overhead light, as well as the bathroom lights. Then, to add to his distress, Trixie grabbed his duffel bag and phone. She rushed out of the bedroom. Why did she take his duffel?
Cayden looked down at the man passed out on their bed and then out at Trixie. He decided to follow Trixie. “What the hell is going on, Trix?”
She was in the kitchen, filling a large mixing bowl with water. He saw a knife, scissors, and a lighter on the counter. When she turned towards him, Trixie had tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I need you to go.”
“Excuse me?” The fuck he was leaving her, and not just because there was currently a strange man with a bullet wound in their bed!
Trixie rounded the bar to open the cabinet under the sink. She pulled out a bottle of dish soap. “Here, wash yourself. Quickly. Your Uber will be here any minute.”
She’d called him an Uber? “What the fuck?” Cayden looked down at himself. As his shirt was currently being used to keep some strange man from bleeding out, he was just in jeans. He didn’t even have shoes on. His hands and his right forearm were streaked in blood. “I am not leaving you.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if she was trying to gather up her patience. “Cayden, I need you to trust me—”
“What the hell is going on, Trixie? If you honestly think I am going to leave you alone here, then you don’t know me at all!”
She grabbed some paper towels, wet them, and then dipped some soap on top.
She rushed over to him and started to clean off his hands and arm.
“Baby, you can’t be here. Don’t you understand?
” She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You have less than two weeks left on your sentence. Twelve days, Cayden. I won’t do anything to mess that up. So you can’t be here.”
She was trying to protect him?! Fuck that. He was not leaving—
She grabbed his chin and held it tightly in her grip. Finally meeting his eyes, she said with more conviction. “You just told me you loved me. Now I need you to trust me.”
His anger was rising, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like how she was acting, what she was saying. “It’s not a matter of trust,” he snapped. “I’m not leaving you alone with that guy!”
“And I am telling you that you need to.” Her phone dinged.
“That’s your ride.” She pulled a shirt out of his duffel and threw it at him.
“Cayden, you need to go. I am in no danger. I promise. I just… I need to figure out what’s going on.
Once I do, I swear, I will call you first thing in the morning. ”
His feet were frozen in place. He didn’t put on the shirt.
“If you love me, you will do this for me.”
He fumed. How dare she say that to him? How dare she question his love for her? “That’s not fair! You can’t—”
“I can,” she snapped. “Cayden, leave. Now. Tell the Wynns we had a fight, I don’t care, but you can’t tell them what happened. You cannot be involved here.”
“You can’t be involved here!”
“I already am. Go!” She started pushing him to the front door. “I will call you tomorrow. I promise.”
“You better have a damn good explanation, and you better tell me every goddamn detail, Trixie.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Why was he letting himself get pushed towards the door?
She nodded, though her eyes kept glancing back at their bedroom. “Go!” The front door was opened, and he was pushed through, his duffel and shirt in hand, his feet still bare. “I love you.”
Then she closed the door in his face.
Cayden stood there staring at the door for several minutes, fighting with his need to protect her over doing as she’d asked. She clearly knew the guy. Why couldn’t she just tell him who he was?
“Fuck!” he shouted into the night.
Cayden turned to find the Uber driver standing against the passenger side of his car. The guy gave Cayden a sympathetic look as he asked, “Bad breakup, man?”