Chapter 9
Henley
Ileft Grace in the bathroom after letting her rest against me for a few minutes. Though it had been such a short amount of time, every second her body was connected with mine had felt like years. Something with her felt natural to me, like touching her was as second nature as breathing.
It was definitely not an ideal feeling.
The woman had tried to kill me, for fuck’s sake.
As I rounded the corner back to the open layout of the diner, I was very much reminded how my taste in women had bit me in the ass too many times to count.
“Henley?” The woman’s voice was so familiar to me, in both good and bad ways. Like when she told me she’d cheated—many times—and when she’d plead for me to give her another chance.
Any normal person would say, Well, you stayed, so what’s that say about how you view your self-worth? And I’d reply, I don’t think I’m worth jack shit, so it’s on brand.
Aubree, my ex, knew that, and she took advantage of it.
I stopped, looking down at her. Her blonde hair was half up in a bun, the other half barely hitting her shoulders. She smiled at me so sweetly, I was convinced she’d forgotten our last conversation.
“I’m not in the mood to talk to you,” I muttered, taking a step to move past her.
She slid to the right, blocking my exit. “I just wanted to say hi. I’ve never seen you here before.” Aubree didn’t live in Whiskey Ridge, but rather in the next town over, so it didn’t surprise me to see her here. It simply pissed me off.
“I didn’t think you ever left that town other than to…” Her eyes dipped up and down my form, causing me to shake my head subtly. “You know.”
“Yeah. Well, I’ve moved on.”
She didn’t even seem hurt. I was sure she’d moved on the first time she cheated, and she’d only pleaded for me to stay so she had someone to go to when her fuck toys weren’t replying.
“Henley…” My name was a desperate whisper. “We can talk. You know that, right?”
I glared at her. “No. We’re past that, Aubree. I’m done with you manipulating me.”
Our fucked-up relationship had ended a couple months ago, once I finally came to my senses with her treating me the way she did.
She’d done her typical act of begging me to stay, saying she’d change, and when I’d scoffed and told her that wasn’t possible, her entire demeanor shifted and she’d slapped me.
If that wasn’t the wake-up call I needed, I wasn’t sure what would be.
She laughed like I’d told her the funniest joke. “Manipulating?” I hated the smile blooming on her face. “Henley, please. We had an amazing time together.”
This was why I never wanted to see her again. She had a way of bringing up all the good to try to overshadow her shitty behavior.
My chest rose with a heavy breath. If Grace walked out of that bathroom and saw Aubree standing this close to me after what we’d just done, I wasn’t sure what she’d do.
A part of me didn’t think Grace would feel hurt in any way.
She seemed like a stab-first-ask-questions-later type of girl.
Only I wasn’t certain Aubree would be on the receiving end of her blade.
It’d be me. One hundred percent.
A hand wrapped around my upper arm, nails digging into my flesh. With it, a familiar warmth settled where she touched me, one I didn’t realize I’d been missing.
Speak of the devil.
“That’s not what he told me,” Grace said, sounding sweet as a fucking peach.
She crowded my space as she leaned forward, heat seeping down the length of my arm with her entire torso pressed there.
She cupped the side of her mouth like she was telling Aubree a secret.
“You can’t use your teeth, sweets. Men hate that shit. ”
Aubree was great at putting on a front of what she wanted you to see, so the only indication that Grace had affected her was the slight flaring of her nostrils and the way she crossed her arms. She did the latter on purpose, pressing her breasts up so they were nearly spilling out of her V-neck sweater.
Aubree cocked her head to the side, pouting out her lower lip. “Is that what Hen told you? Because he said I give the best blowjobs he’s ever had. Sounds like he was just trying to make you feel better about your lack of skills.”
Grace straightened, wrapping herself around my arm. With both arms lifted now, her belly was on display. Aubree’s eyes darted to the exact spot I knew Grace’s sheath was situated.
The amusement on Grace’s face was laced with a lethality I wouldn’t ever wish to be aimed at myself. “Aubree, was it?”
I tried not to show my reaction to Grace knowing her name, but I certainly was curious. Had she stalked me, or had Brynne and McKenna told her about my ex?
Aubree cooled her expression, eyes narrowing slightly as they landed back on Grace’s face.
“I think he’s found better,” Grace said, running a fingernail down my bicep. “If you’ll excuse us.”
She led me past a very jealous Aubree, being sure to bump into my ex on the way. Meanwhile, Grace kept her act up all the way back to our table, where our cheeseburgers sat.
My back was to the restaurant, so I couldn’t see whether Aubree had used her brain and left, or stuck around to potentially get stabbed by Grace.
“Orgasms make you stabby, huh?” I asked, studying her across from me.
“You make me stabby,” she muttered. “Besides, I didn’t even take the knife out. It was her fault for thinking I’d do something with it.”
I had no doubt in my mind she would’ve used it—and enjoyed it. “Why’d you do that?”
She finally moved her gaze to mine, trying to keep up her scary appearance, but I saw the cracks. “You looked uncomfortable.”
“And?”
She picked up a fry and popped it in her mouth. After swallowing, she said, “And you’d do the same for me.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
For a millisecond, she froze. She hadn’t expected that.
She rolled her lips together before grabbing her burger and digging in. I watched as she ate, waiting for her to say something, anything.
Truth was, I would step in. Not for her, but for me. There was no time for her to be messing around with some guy. Besides, I’d have to kill her when this was over, anyway.
She might as well not waste the last bit of her life on shitty sex.
After eating half the burger, she set it down and pulled out her phone. Her thumbs flew across the screen, seemingly having a conversation with someone.
“What are you doing?” I asked, not bothering with my food. I wasn’t hungry for what was on the plate.
“Texting,” she replied blandly.
I blinked. Blinked again.
My patience was dwindling.
“Who?”
“The girls.”
A breathy laugh escaped me as I ran a hand through my hair and sat back in my chair. “The girls.”
Her thumbs continued moving, like she was filling them in on her day. “Yep.”
“It’s rude to text at the table,” I told her.
She glanced up long enough to look at me while she said, “It’s rude to hold someone’s orgasm over their head, but here we are.”
Two tables over, the elderly couple’s heads swiveled our way.
I ran a hand over my face.
It’d be a goddamn miracle if I didn’t kill her before we found whoever was after me.