Page 30 of Badges
His snort carries behind him. “Have you metpeople?” But he pauses at the bottom step and points through the trees. “My old man’s place is back there. This was my grandfather’s house.”
Must be nice to have a legacy.
All I got was evicted after Mom died. It took me almost a year to start earning enough for my own tiny ass apartment. Then a second before I was in a position to start looking into getting Cynthia back.
Going from that to a comfy farmhouse is a pretty big step.
But this is just temporary.
“Since you don’t have a car, I don’t have to worry about you leaving any time soon. Kitchen is pretty stocked. There’s a sticky pad on the fridge for a grocery list.” His arm juts towards the back wall.
It’s surprisingly modern.
Whoisthis guy?
“This’ll be yours.” He pushes past me and gestures towards a spacious guest room, complete with ensuite.
The smell of the fresh linens fills the air when I drop my bag onto the queen sized bed.
“Better than a hotel.” I flash him a smile.
“I expect you to keep it clean.” His arms cross his chest making the veins pop. “No visitors, no partying, no drugs. And most importantly, no going in my room. Got it?”
I flash him a broad smile. “Yes, daddy.”
There was never any intention for company. How can I get him to trust me with other people here?
Besides, it’s not like I know anyone. I don’t even have any close friends in Texas.
All I could do there was try to survive.
His long exhale flirts with being a low rumble. “Elena. I want to help, and to keep you safe. But you’re only here until we find that ‘Mad Man’ character, okay? Please just play nice.”
He almost sounds…in pain.
“I want you to find him too.” My shoulders drop. “The sooner you do, the faster I can get my sister back, and I can leave.”
Where would I go? Texas is a shithole too.
My job is long gone.
I’ve started from nothing before, I can do it again.
“There’s a gym downstairs, you’re welcome to it. Go ahead and put any—” His hand waves as his eyes avert. “—personal items down on the grocery list, I’ll make sure you get them.”
I sink onto the mattress.
Oh God, it’s so much better than the one in the holding cell.
His brows knot over his nose before the brim of his cowboy hat ducks to hide his face. “Don’t do that shit.”
“What?” I blink up at him.
“All that fucking moaning like you’re getting off. That crap won’t work.” He grabs the handle and starts to pull the door around.
I hadn’t even realized I made a noise.
But it’s pretty damn funny that it’s messing with him.
