Page 34 of Badges
Ford: She wants to meet the girl.
Me: Why?
Ford: IDK. Thinks she can get info. For the record, I fucking hate it.
Me: K. Next week?
Ford: See you then.
The kid gives me a big eyebrow when he scans the unmentionables, like he’s sizing me up to the dainty fabric hanging from his fingers.
I glower at him silently, pulling out my wallet.
This whole thing is a damn mess. But maybe April can reach a part of Elena I can’t.
Shit. I want to keep as much distance as possible.
Raw
Elena
I didn’t expect itto be so…boring.
The first day here was kinda fun watching Wade’s face turn red every time I was in the same room as him.
But during the week, he’s gone most of the time, and when he does come back, he goes straight to his room.
Makes me wish I had friends to call. Or that I had a hobby.
Instead I keep finding myself getting sucked into random streaming shows. They’re entertaining enough, yet I have this flare of raw energy in me that feels like it’s trying to work its way out.
Friday afternoon, he arrives with an armful of folders, then drops them unceremoniously onto the kitchen table.
“We have homework,” he grunts. One broad palm grips the edge of the counter as he toes off his cowboy boots. His hat lands on the smooth marble surface before he turns towards his room.
“What does that mean? Do I get to leave if I pass?” My knees are still folded under me where I’m nestled into the couch.
I know better. I’m stuck here with a grumpy ass old man, with no end in sight. If looking at them hurries this up, though, I’m game.
Except he’s growing on me.
He reappears in a baggy pair of shorts and a snug t-shirt that hugs the ripples in his chest. His eyes narrow, flicking over my bare legs making his lips thin.
“No free pass. I brought home a shit load of pictures for us to start sorting through. I need you to trigger your memories about your dad’s associates.” His sneakers squeak on the hardwood, then goes down the hall.
In only a few minutes I can hear the steady beat of his feet on the treadmill.
The best part of my day is when he comes back upstairs after working out.
Sweaty.
Veins popping.
Breathing hard.
And smelling so…raw.
My episode is just about over when I hear his footfalls getting closer. Scurrying, I rush to the fridge and pull out a chilled bottle of water along with an oversized bowl full of chicken salad.
