I climb out of the cab and run after her. “Jesus, woman. Have you got a fuckin’ death wish?”
She’s standing in the doorway, her hands over her mouth in shock as she surveys the mess of her living room. The TV is smashed and hanging off the wall. The leather couches are ripped and stuffing is splayed all over the floor. The pot plants and picture frames are all upended, and there isn’t a single thing in this room untouched. Some asshole even decided to piss on the walls like a fucking animal.
“Wait here,” I say, pulling my gun from my cut. I head farther into the house, checking rooms and closets. When I realize there’s no one still inside, I walk back to the front door and hold a teary Jupiter in my arms. “It’s clear, but the rest of the house is in bad shape.”
“It’s okay. It’s just stuff. I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s not like there’s anything of value in here.”
“At least you weren’t here when they showed up. That doesn’t mean we should stay long though.”
She nods and I follow her into the bedroom. She pulls out one of the ransacked drawers and throws several items in a black, studded overnight bag. She pulls on a pair of jeans and removes my flannel, but she throws on a black tank, no bra, and slips into my shirt, knotting it at the waist. That small gesture warms me. It’s stupid, really. Yet, I fucking love seeing her in my shirt. Knowing that my scent and my clothes are all over her body when I can’t be is fucking hot.
Outside, I throw her bag to the back of the truck and climb in. Jupiter slides in beside me and I pull her across the bench seat and wrap an arm around her shoulder. I turn the key in the ignition, hit the gas, and take off at breakneck speed toward the clubhouse.
I may be about to get my ass chewed out by Prez, but every second I’ve spent with Tink has been worth it.