“Smart,” I agreed, feeling his fingers brush over the sensitive skin on the inside of my ankle. “Alright, let’s go,” he declared, leading us back to the staircase, then up to the second floor. He gave me the room I had been in the night before, and Fenway the furthest room from that one, something that made both of us share a knowing smile behind his back.
“Help yourself to anything in the common area. I will have Jules stock it with more since you’ll be living here for a while, and we will have dinner ordered in before the last person leaves for the day. Aven, I’m a call away,” he told me, giving me a look that said he wanted to make sure I didn’t hesitate to take him up on the offer. “I will keep my phone by me. Fenway, the same does not go for you.”
“What? I can’t call for a bedtime story?” Fenway asked, looking crushed, then smiling when Quin growled and stormed off.
“You seem nice,” I told him when we were alone, hearing Quin lock the door behind him.
“I am.”
“Then why does Quin…”
“Hate me?” he finished for me.
“Yeah.”
“I’m a pain in the ass. I never do what I’m told. I keep getting into international-type trouble. And I don’t take anything as seriously as the Joyless Luck Club down there does.” He moved away into his room, coming back with a plain tee. “My pants won’t fit you. I will have to suffer with the knowledge that you are just a few feet down the hall in my tee, panties, and nothing else.”
“I could just sleep in my pants,” I informed him, waving down at the yoga pants I had put on earlier. Unlike my shirt, there were no blood stains on them. Though I knew that I would be sleeping exactly as he said since I had that weird thing about not liking my legs being contained in sleep.
“Shh. Nope,” he said, closing his eyes, taking an exaggeratedly long breath. “T-shirt and panties. Long legs all tangled in the–”
“Goodnight, Fenway,” I said a little firmly, making his eyes open, and an easy smile pull at his lips.
“Goodnight, Aven. If you need more of the pain pills, just knock on my door. Or sneak into bed with me. That’s always a nice way to wake up.”
With that, he disappeared into his room, leaving me shaking my head as I moved into my own room.
But I did lock my door before I went into the bathroom to clean up any remaining dried blood, brush my teeth, and change for bed.
As I was lowering myself into bed, the cell went off on my nightstand.
Don’t hesitate to call. I won’t be away from it again. PS: Gunner is taking care of the dog for the time being. Get some sleep, babe. – Q
A moment before, my mind had been racing, replaying the events of the night over and over again, berating myself, or blaming myself for being so stupid, for not getting a better look, victim-blaming my damn self.
But somehow, with that message, I could curl up in bed, and my mind was quiet.
Just as I was contemplating what that could possibly mean, sleep finally claimed me.
EIGHT
Quin
“Got another death threat for Fenway this morning,” Smith informed me as we regrouped in my office, trying to figure out how to juggle two important cases at the same time.
“Yeah, well, his ass is sitting pretty upstairs, safe as can be. We can deal with him after we figure out who this woman is. This woman who knows who Aven is, and that this man is missing. We can’t have that shit out there for anyone to hear.”
They knew there was no room to argue with that.
If this woman could lead back to Aven, it could mean cops sniffing around. And, sure, they wouldn’t find dick. That was why Finn was paid the big bucks. But there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t crack Aven. She wasn’t practiced at dealing with cops. If they put on a little pressure, she could splinter apart.
She wasn’t going to jail on my watch.
I promised her that.
Just because the case was more complicated than it originally seemed didn’t mean I didn’t plan to keep that promise.
“Yo,” Gunner said, stomping in, his boots dropping clumps of dirt across the floor as he did so. That, and the dirt on his arms and hands, and the scratches on his face – superficial, likely from tree branches in the woods – along with the circles under his eyes telling me that he hadn’t seen his bed last night.
“Got something?” I asked, watching as Mackey came walking in, sitting behind Gunner like a trained work animal, not some random, wild, rescue dog.
“Thank God for this beast getting a bite of her. There wasn’t dick to go on before. But once the light came up, there were dried blood drops from the back of Aven’s house, then disappearing on a small backstreet over by the school. Just four little shacks that someone has the nerve to call houses.”