Page 46 of Save Me
“Good,” I reply with a chuckle. “You?”
“I’ll be better after this is sorted. You did good, Haz.”
“Yeah, it’s worth the effort to grease the law enforcement wheels. I know I’ve been a bit absent lately, but things with Vogue Jameson have become a bit heated in more ways than one.”
“I heard,” she says, crossing her arms against the slight chill in the air. “Anything you want to share?”
I smile. “Let’s just say the dynamics are complicated. But we’re handling it.”
Mum gives me a look that’s half-knowing, half-warning. “Just be careful. These things can get messy, especially with the business in the mix.”
I take that in, knowing she’s right. The last thing I need is for personal entanglements to taint the business. But Vogue isn’t just some fling; she’s become an integral part of the equation.
“We’ve got it under control,” I assure her. “Vogue has stepped up and is training with Aaron. Things have moved fast, but she’s on it.”
She takes a drag from her cigarette, blowing out smoke that gets carried away by the wind before disappearing into nothingness. “Make sure you keep your head on straight, Haz. Emotions have a way of clouding judgment.”
“I know.” And I do – but that doesn’t stop my chest from tightening at the thought of Vogue being anywhere but by our side.
The moment passes, and she crushes her cigarette under her heel and with a soft smile, she heads back inside. I take another moment and follow, tying up loose ends and making calls to ensure our bases are covered when the inevitable knock comes. In this life, you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop; you just hope you’re prepared enough when it does.
17
VOGUE
Coming to,I groan as my head thumps slightly indicating too much sleep. I can’t catch a break right now. It’s sunny out already. I’ve slept through the day and night it seems. It’s a weird feeling, this rest thing, like I’m not quite used to it anymore. My stomach growls loud enough to be its own wake-up call, and when I climb out of bed and shuffle downstairs to the kitchen, the smell of bacon and eggs hits me like a freight train. I pile my plate high and start shovelling it in.
“Morning, Vogue,” Cal says, leaning against the counter with his mug of coffee.
“Morning,” I mumble between bites.
“Harry’s out, family business. He said to say hi,” Thayer tosses in casually as he passes behind me for the fridge.
“He’d better not have scratched my fucking car,” Dad growls, looking up from his newspaper from where he is seated at the huge farmhouse table by the window.
“Right.” I nod, though a flicker of concern traces my spine. I push it away. Harry can handle his own stuff. “Your car?”
“He borrowed it. I did not know he planned to be out all night with it. Do you know how much that fucking thing cost me?”
I shrug. I don’t even know what car it is he has. Some fancy sports thing was parked on the driveway yesterday when we arrived, but other than that, it’s not in my wheelhouse.
“All night? Is he okay?” I ask Cal.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, now I’m worried.”
He shakes his head, and that’s the end of that, I guess.
“Vogue,” Dad says, and I look up from my plate to him again, “you’re starting training with Adam today.”
“Erm, what?”
“Wait,” Quen says, stepping forward and throwing me a panicked glare. “Adam is ten times her size.”
“He can show her how to fight. You, on the other hand, will be fighting her after he has taught her some moves.”
“Oh, fun,” I mutter, thinking it’s anything but fun, although I’m trying not to show how the thought of going toe-to-toe with Adam or Quen, for that matter, makes my insides twist.
