Page 2 of Her Silver Fox Firefighters
“Olivia…”
“What? You expect me to be the town’s social butterfly with a secretidentity?”
“You can’t hole up forever. Nobody knows you there.”
“And I need to keep it that way until Marcus forgets who I am.”
She scoffs. "He'll never forget. The man has the capacity to hold a grudge forever. But if we're lucky, he'll pay for everything he's done. In the meantime, you need to heal and rebuild. You won't accomplish that by living like a recluse."
“Maybe in time…” I trail off, lifting a dress I’ve always loved. It’s been ages since I’ve had a reason to wear it, and just the feel of the fabric between my fingers makes something ache in my chest.
I catch my reflection in the tall mirror.
My eyes look tired, hollowed out.
My cheekbones are sharper than they should be. It'll be a while before I get the glow back.
Marcus didn’t just ruin my past, he damn near sucked the life out of me.
"Oh, speaking of living a little—did you get it?" Chloe asks, her tone shifting to something mischievous.
"Get what?"
"I sent you something. The courier confirmed delivery this morning."
My stomach drops. "Chloe, what did you do?"
"Just check the porch!"
I drop the dress and head for the front door. "I thought I heard something earlier…"
Sure enough, there's a box waiting for me. I pick it up, phone still pressed to my ear, and pull the lid off. The paper safety seal tears with a satisfying sound.
Inside, wrapped in bubble wrap, is something pink and decidedly anatomical.
"What the hell?"
I yank it free from the wrapping. It’s the biggest dildo I’ve ever seen, complete with veins and ridges that make my core clench involuntarily.
A folded note slips to the floor.
Self-care is important.XO, Chloe.
“Chloe, you absolute?—”
The thing suddenly buzzes to life in my hands, a low rumble that grows louder, meaner.
I must’ve brushed a button, because now it’s twisting and jerking like a rabid power tool, bucking against my grip.
“Shit—stop, stop?—”
It bucks harder, nearly slipping through my fingers, and panic takes over.
In a split-second reflex, I fling it like it’s about to explode.
Time slows as I watch it sail through the air in a perfect, humiliating arc.
It smacks the top of the neighbors’ fence, wobbles for a breathless second, then tumbles into their yard.
