Page 83 of UnScripted

He curses, takes my shirt off, wrapping a plaid blanket around me. “Sit by the fire. I’m gonna hook up the generator and brew some coffee. I’ll be right back.”

He kisses me hard and firm, walks over to a small bar and pours two brandies into low ball glasses. “Sip this. It’ll warm your blood.”

I nod my head taking the stiff drink, eyes staring into the flames; I know I’m a different woman than I was two hours ago. I’m in the club now. I witnessed things that can’t be talked about. I want to know what will happen now, but afraid to ask.

Rog comes back wearing sweat pants and a parka. “Just a few more minutes, baby. I have a generator that will power the whole house I just need to flip the transfer switch.

My eyelids droop, hand slips, I almost drop the glass, but I force myself to jerk my head back and drink. I can’t fall asleep.

Rog’s cell rings on the mantel where he left it. Without even thinking I answer.

“Dev?”

“Yeah, Rog is hooking up the generator. You okay Mac?”

“I’m fine. I was worried as hell about you, girl.”

“I-I’m okay. Is he d-dead?”

“Yes. Dev… I need you to listen to me. You were never home. We fixed your apartment, covered your tracks. You hear me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Gregory has friends. You can’t be anywhere near this.”

“Did you bury him in the woods?”

“Fuck no,” he snorts, “this isn’t TV sweetheart. We called it in… it’s self-defense. He just started shooting up our truck when we went to check on the rental property.”

“The cops bought that?”

“Of course, they did. We run this town, remember?”

Rog opens the door behind me bringing wind and rain inside with him.

“Here, it’s Mac.”

He takes the phone from my hand at the same time the lights come on and the generator’s engines churn like a locomotive.

Shivering violently, I sip my drink. “Come,” he holds a hand out. I take it as he links our hands together, phone to his ear as he talks to Mac in low tones until he’s satisfied all loose ends are tied.

He leads me to the back of his house where in a four-season sunroom sits a large hot tub. He presses a few buttons and lifts the top. Steam comes from the frothy water. He strips, takes the blanket from me, lifting me in his arms, “It’s gonna burn at first. But then your body will warm. When it stops burning it’ll be okay to sleep. I’ll hold you.”

I nod my head trusting him to take care of me. He steps up and places a foot in the swirling water hissing at the contact, but he powers through until both feet are in the tub, “I’m gonna lower you slowly babe. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch since your ice cold. But it’s what you need, okay?”

“It’s okay. Sometimes the things you need hurt you the most,” I answer looking him straight in the eye, palm on his cheek.

His eyes shut, “I know baby. I know. We’ll talk about us later. Let me just hold you now.” He lowers me inch by inch into the water, my bottom teeth sink into my lip as I try not to cry out in pain as my frozen limbs meet water that feels like hot lava on my skin. Whimpering, my arms cling to his neck.

“I know, baby girl. But it’s the only way,” he croons in my ear stroking locks of hair off my face. “What’s this?” His fingers brush the soaked bandage on my lower back. He peels it down so he can read the ink Mac took me to get. His finger gently touches the outlines around the puckered, red skin. “It’s beautiful, sugar. Classy and elegant, just like you.”

“I love you, Rog,” I whisper against his neck.

He inhales sharply hands stilling, “Love you more, baby girl.”

“I was so scared that I wouldn’t have a chance to say it to you.”

His strong body trembles under me, “Don’t think I’m gonna forget that stunt you pulled. Never disobey me again, Dev.”

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