Page 137 of Back in the Saddle

Eric took my hand and pulled me out of my chair.

He then pulled me toward the stairs.

I waved my mug behind me and called, “I’ll bring this back clean, Linda.”

“I’m not worried, hon,” Linda called back.

“’Night, everybody!” I kept calling when we got to the stairs.

“’Night!” everybody called back.

Eric dragged me to my door while I took in the glow of the lights and the holiday setting from above.

And seriously.

Zach and Bill had vision.

“Key,” Eric grunted.

He let my hand go so I could pull out my key.

He took it from me to open the door while I said, “I need to go get my car, Turner.”

He looked at me, looked at my keychain, pulled off the fob, went to the railing and whistled.

Tex tipped his head toward us and bellowed, “Yo!”

Eric tossed the fob down, Tex caught it, and Eric yelled, “Someone needs to get Jess’s car.”

Tex raised a hand to his forehead in a salute.

I took that as Tex’s version ofGotcha!

Eric pulled me into my apartment.

And uh-oh.

He also slammed the door.

FIFTEEN

ICEBOX CAKE

Iwatched as Eric prowled around my tiny pad turning on lamps.

When he was done and focused on me, I asked, “Are you mad?”

He didn’t answer verbally.

He stalked to me, took my hand, lifted it, then rubbed his thumb lightly along the red marks there.

Okay, he was mad.

Truth, I’d been ignoring how my wrists stung from the zip ties, though, the good news was, none of the skin was broken.

“Yeah, my brother is a dick,” I agreed with his nonverbal assertion.

“He couldn’t approach you in the parking lot and say ‘hey’?”

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