Convict (Sin City Salvation 2)

“What did Lucian want?” Birdie asked from the sofa.

When I glanced at her, she had her feet curled up beneath her, just a glimpse of silky skin peeking out from under her skirt. My eyes traced the line of her thigh all the way to the hem where it disappeared. I needed to do something about the throbbing dick in my jeans, sooner rather than later.

“He was just returning my call,” I told her. “I checked in earlier to see how everything was going with the baby.”

Birdie swallowed and turned away, hiding any emotions that might give away her feelings. In profile, she was still the most enchanting woman I’d ever seen in real life. She came from Gypsy blood, and those exotic qualities were evident in her features. But where her sister had darker traits, Birdie was the opposite. Pure vanilla hair contrasted the honey-kissed glow of her skin, highlighting the glacial blue eyes that were her siren’s song. She was feminine and soft and more than any one man deserved, but Kylie was right about her. Beneath the goddess-like veil, she was broken, and the best thing I could do for her was draw the line now before I hurt her even more.

“How is he?” Birdie asked. When I blinked, she clarified. “The baby?”

“Doing well. Lucian won’t leave his side, I’m told.”

She nodded, expecting as much. “I’d like to see him again soon, but I suppose that’s probably off the table, isn’t it?”

I didn’t like to be the asshole, but there was no point lying to her. “Probably at least for a while. Until you adjust to your circumstances.”

“That’s what Gypsy wants?” she asked.

When I didn’t answer, she took that as affirmation.

“So, what happens now?”

I sat down at the kitchen table, maintaining eye contact but keeping my distance. “Well, we need to establish how this situation is going to work. I can’t have you sitting around here all day.”

“Obviously.” Birdie rolled her eyes. “I never asked to be here in the first place.”

“Gypsy mentioned you were in school, but you haven’t finished.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the sofa. “Well, I can’t now, can I? At least not under my real name.”

She was right about that. There were far worse consequences for Birdie than being imprisoned by me. If that detective from California ever found her, she could be looking at hard time. And I didn’t have any intention of letting that happen, so whether she liked it or not, she was stuck with me.

“What were you studying?” I asked.

She made a flippant gesture with her hands. “I told Gypsy I wanted to go to design school, but I didn’t really. It was just something I came up with to get her off my back.”

“She cares about you,” I told her.

“Yeah, she cares about me so much she heaped me into the too hard pile and made me your problem.”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a brat, she wouldn’t have done that.”

Birdie’s hands curled into fists for the second time that day. She was irritable and on the verge of a potential meltdown, and it showed. “Maybe you could just let me go, and then I wouldn’t be anyone’s problem. I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”

“Hardly,” I snorted.

Her eyes narrowed, and an unsettling calm washed over her face as she studied me. “What about you, Huck? Are you really so perfect? From what I’ve heard, you’ve done time in prison yourself. So who are you to talk?”

The muscles in my back rippled with irritation as I stood, nearly knocking the chair over behind me. Birdie’s eyes widened, and all her bravado disappeared as I shot her a withering glare. “Don’t fucking talk about what you don’t understand.”

She didn’t bother to say anything else before I slammed the front door behind me.

By the time darkness settled in, I’d managed to get some of the regular maintenance done on the Harley. My temper had cooled after Birdie’s comment, but I still wasn’t eager to face her. Standing in the driveway, I had a long smoke while I contemplated all the shit we had to work through. In the end, the only conclusion I could draw was that I still didn’t have any idea how to tackle this clusterfuck.

When I finally walked back into the house, I’d already braced myself for whatever I might find. But what I saw was the last thing I ever imagined. In the kitchen, Birdie frantically waved a smoking pan over the sink while she cursed under her breath. The counters looked like a war zone with unidentified liquid splattered all over and half chopped vegetables lying on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing?” I grumbled, trying to hide the amusement in my voice.

She blinked at me, frustration pinching her features. “I don’t know. I was just trying to make something to eat.”