“Got it.” He waited a second and then said, “Seatbelt.”
He pressed his lips together as she growled a little and pulled the seatbelt down and across her tits, securing it in the latch.
When she was done, she asked, “Happy?”
“Not really, but it’s a start.” Fighting a grin, he put the Ford in drive and took her home.
Reese set her stuff down on the kitchen counter. “My sister’s probably sleeping. Let’s try not to wake her, please.”
“I’m not the only one who makes demands. Just addin’ a please on the end, don’t change it.”
“It was a request, not a demand.”
Deacon shook his head. “Lawyers. Always gotta deflect.”
She watched the man wander from her kitchen and across her high-ceilinged great room. Her house was a contemporary A-frame and she bought it because of the enormous windows that faced the valley beyond. On a clear day, the view was amazing and endless.
From floor to ceiling, the room and its windows were two stories high, and the main floor, where they stood, had an open floor plan. The master suite was also on the same level with the same amazing view. She had three spare bedrooms on the upper level and another large open space took up the lower one. She had set up the lower level as a more casual space. A bar, large-screen TV with surround sound, a large sectional, a fireplace, a reading nook and more.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have a lot of spare time to enjoy it. Most of the time, when she had a few moments, she took a glass of wine or a mug of strong coffee out on the front deck, kicked up her feet, and just listened to the rustling of the trees, or the many creatures scurrying through the underbrush and fallen leaves.
If she sat out there long enough, she sometimes heard coyotes or foxes, hawks, occasionally an eagle or two, and some other animals she couldn’t identify. It was a good way to wind down at the end of a hectic day or to motivate herself for the busy one to come.
This house was supposed to be her sanctuary.
She mistakenly thought Reilly would be safe here, too. But now her sister’s safe haven could be compromised.
Unfortunately, the only way her sister would be safe again was to make sure Billy Warren’s ass was caught, he went to trial, was found guilty and then tossed into prison.
At least for a little while. Long enough, hopefully, that he’d forget Reilly when he got out. Reese knew that was wishful thinking. Men like Billy didn’t stop until he got what he wanted. Which was his sister to pay for fighting back and getting him arrested.
When Reilly first called her three months ago while she was in the hospital, Reese had immediately gone down to Philadelphia to be with her. Her twenty-four-year-old sister had been a mess and Reese had a difficult time seeing the bruises, the cuts, the swollen lips and eyes. The cast on her arm.
Luckily, a neighbor in her complex had heard the racket and called the police. Other neighbors came out of their apartments and somehow pulled Billy off Reilly and held him there until the police arrived to arrest him and the ambulance arrived to transport her. She was grateful they got involved—which a lot of people didn’t do anymore—and most likely saved Reilly’s life.
When Reilly was released from the hospital, Reese tried to get her sister to come stay with her. But her sister was headstrong. And, of course, stubborn.
Because of that, Reilly didn’t just lie down and take Billy’s beating, which he thought she deserved. And that made it worse for her. She could’ve died, but then, if it was her in Reilly’s shoes, Reese would’ve never given up fighting, either.
A woman fighting back, and not curling up in a ball, always made an abuser more determined to beat her down.
Reilly had worked hard for the money he stole and she didn’t have a lot, so it had pissed her off when she found out Billy had somehow accessed her accounts and drained her dry.
After seeing Reilly in the condition she’d been in, Reese really wanted a few minutes alone with Billy Warren herself. Since then, she actually had dreams of coming face to face with him and hurting him as badly as he hurt Reilly. She would wake up in a sweat, every muscle tense and breathing heavily.
The man needed to pay for what he did.
But Billy wasn’t in her house right now, another man was. Reese studied him standing at her windows and looking out into the dark night.
“Jesus fuck,” he muttered.
“What? Did you press your nose to the glass and leave a smudge?”
“Bet this view’s fuckin’ awesome.”
“It was the selling point,” she murmured.
“House probably cost a fuckton of scratch.”
She was not talking about her finances with a complete stranger. Or anyone, really. How much she made and what she did with that money was nobody’s business.