“Just get me the phone number.”
“Fine,” he texts back. “I’m going to bed. I’ll get it to you in the morning.”
I bristle impatiently, wanting it right now, but there’s no harm in waiting until morning. Her plane is taking off as I plug my phone into the charger, so it’s not like she could text me back right now anyway. The flight back home will be long, and Sin said she was upset, so I’m sure she’ll go straight to bed when she lands.
Tomorrow Sin can get me her number. Tomorrow I can text her and drag the real story out of her. Then, once I know, I can feel a little better about it. I can recover at least enough pleasantness to remember her fondly.
I should probably be glad I’ll never see her again.
I don’t know why I’m not.
10
Laurel
My head rests against the car door and I struggle to keep my heavy eyelids from drifting shut. My mind was so fraught with anxiety last night; I tossed and turned much more than I slept.
What a horrible, no-good day.
Feeling myself drift off, I jerk. In an attempt to stay awake, I shift my weight, trying to invigorate myself. I only have to stay up long enough to get on the plane, then I can sleep through the flight. When I wake up, it will be like this whole awful day was little more than a dream.
My head is convinced this is a good plan, but my body struggles to keep up its end of the deal. Maybe I can close my eyes for just a minute. I lean my head on the door again and close my eyes, thinking to rest them so they aren’t dry as the desert anymore.
I feel myself falling and jolt awake, rearing back from the arm that kept me from tumbling right out of the car. Bleary-eyed and momentarily discombobulated, I look up at the ominous-looking man holding the car door open for me.
“Are we here?” I murmur, looking around for my purse before finding it on my lap. Clutching it, I push my legs out and reach for the door frame to pull myself out of the car. I sway, still bleary from sleep, and Sin places a steadying hand around my waist, pulling me away from the car so he can shut the door.
I frown, looking past Sin at the brown roll-down door in front of the parked car. Wait, this isn’t the airport. It’s a driveway. The car is parked in front a residential garage. I turn to look past the car, and sure enough, there’s a small yard in front of a tan stucco home. Orange tile lines the roof and a gated brick wall creeps around the house like a fence.
“This is not the airport,” I state, needlessly.
“Guess he wasn’t lying about you being smart,” Sin says, dryly.
He attempts to usher me toward the house, but I dig my heels in and pull back. “This is a house. You were supposed to take me to the airport.”
“It’s my house,” he says, easily. “We’ll get to the airport; I needed to stop home first.” Glancing toward the road, he says, “It’s safer if you come inside with me. Didn’t want to leave you asleep in the car and chance something happening to you.”
Safer? I don’t know anything about Vegas, or the neighborhood we’re even in, so I suppose it makes sense to take his word for it. There’s no reason Sin would want to hurt me, right? Rafe flashed me a flight confirmation screen on his phone, so I know he was actually booking a plane ticket. It wasn’t some kind of gangster code for ?
?kill this pregnant bitch.”
“What do you have to grab?” I ask, still wary as he keeps a hold on me, guiding me past the car and around to a sidewalk leading to the entrance of the house. There are two brown double doors on the front of the house. I see Sin reach into his pocket, but there’s no jingle. He pulls out a single key. He doesn’t keep his house key and his car key together? Distracted by the oddness, I ask, “Why don’t you have a key chain?”
Glancing at me like I’m wearing him out, Sin asks, “Do you ever stop asking questions?”
I shrug. “You have at least two keys. A key chain would make your life easier, that’s all I’m saying.”
“If a key chain would make my life easier, I would have a key chain, now, wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you enjoy making your life harder. Have you ever lost your key? I bet it’s easy to lose when it’s not attached to anything.”
“Key chains jingle,” he states, clearly tired of hearing about this. “I can’t stand the jingle.” Sliding me a pointed look, he adds, “I like quiet.”
I draw an invisible zipper across my lips, then I turn an invisible key for good measure. Then I can’t help holding out the invisible key and breaking my silence. “See, if you had a key chain, you could put this on it. It wouldn’t even make any noise.”
Sin shakes his head at me, pushing his real key into the lock and turning it. Since it’s so late, the front door opens up into a predictably dark room. Sin moves me aside and steps past me to turn the light on. I flinch at the sudden brightness, looking to him to see what he does now.
He shuts the door and walks up a few carpeted steps into what must be the living room. I follow behind him, looking around as I go. Sin gestures off to his left as he makes it into the living room. “Have a seat, I’ll be a minute.”