Contingency Plan (Blackbridge Security 3)

“She could be pregnant.”

Silence fills the room, all humor and smiles disappearing.

“You didn’t wrap it?” Brooks hisses, the first one to break the quiet. “Rookie fucking mistake, dude.”

“Protection, always,” Finnegan tsks, but he doesn’t do it with humor.

Deacon has a glint in his eye that I can’t fully read.

“I need to find her.”

“Because you love her?” my boss asks.

“Because—” I run my hands over my face, stunned into silence with the question.

“Ack, feelings. Gross. I’m out,” Brooks says as he stands from the couch on the far wall.

Gaige, Ignacio, and Finnegan all follow him out of the room.Chapter 28Remington

My hands are trembling when I hit the sidewalk outside of the building housing Blackbridge Security. If I were the same person I was a week ago, the one insistent on lying to myself, I’d say they’re shaking because I’m livid, angry right to my core at Flynn.

But I’m no longer a liar.

I keep my feet moving in the opposite direction, having no clue where I’m going or what I’m going to do. He asked those questions, and I didn’t answer him because I was mad. My mouth clamped shut because I didn’t know. I left New York. I know I don’t want to go back, but I haven’t gotten very far in my planning.

Confronting him was all that was on my mind the entire plane ride over here—riding coach if anyone is wondering because I’m a changed woman.

My hands tremble as I make a conscious effort to move my feet. I’m fighting the urge to turn back around, run into his arms, and beg him to love me. I want what we shared to mean something to him. I want my presence to calm him, for him to be happy when he sees me.

He was turned on at the sight of me earlier, and that’s a given because our night together—despite what I said in front of his friends—was positively incredible, and that opinion isn’t just mine. He may be a good actor, a good liar, but there was no faking the way his body responded to mine that night. The emotions that clouded his eyes as he looked down at me may not have been real, but the physical stuff was undeniable.

Feeling like a complete fool, I wander around town aimlessly. I have a list of things to do, and although I’m tempted to pull the hand-written note from my pocket and study it, I’ve already memorized it.

Get a job and live my own life. Two things that look simple on paper but will be the hardest things I’ve ever done. Not the job part, I’m actually looking forward to working, doing something for a chunk of the day to keep my mind and body busy.

Living my own life?

That’s where things get complicated, especially as I walk further away from Flynn. The crushing need to go back to him, to use him as a crutch is overwhelming, and I nearly turn around a half a dozen times.

I fill the day with completing and turning in applications at various places, cheeks heating more than once when the managers laughed me out of their front door when I told them I had no work experience. Two places seem promising, a restaurant and a business in need of a receptionist. The latter probably one I wouldn’t take even if I did get a call back because of the way the guy talking to me seemed to think my eyes were a few inches below my chin.

Walking away from my parents held true. I’m nearly flat broke, and as much as I want to worry about tomorrow, well tomorrow, I know I can’t do that. My account won’t be replenished until I make that happen myself. The limited money I have—mostly squirreled away a long time ago to buy drugs—won’t last very long, and the one credit card I have that I don’t think my parents know I have will need to be used strategically and for emergencies only. I can’t risk using it to get a hotel room despite knowing I’m going to end up somewhere tonight that’s going to be less than desirable.

With heavy feet, I climb out of the cab that carried me from downtown to a small motel near the highway, trying not to feel guilty for only tipping a few extra bucks. Gone are the days of tossing people more than double the bill without care.

“Have a good evening, honey. Stay safe.” The cabbie’s eyes sparkle, the corners a web of lines that speak of the happiness in his life that put them there.

“Thank you,” I whisper before shutting the door behind me, his kindness threatening to make the tears burning the backs of my eyes fall.

The bored desk clerk at the motel barely looks up at me when I walk inside the lobby, and a sense of anonymity I’ve never really had the pleasure of experiencing is startling and nice all rolled into one. The room is cheap, not even a hundred dollars a night so I book it for the rest of the week.