“It’s my bachelorette party,” Danielle shot back. “We’re not babysitting your fuckin’ bimbo! You shouldn’t have brought her here.”
Cunt, bimbo, derogatory terms to imply his sexual relationship with Sasha. They made me want to rip his head off.
“You’re both fuckin’ useless,” Breaker said. “I’m gonna find her ass and let her beat the shit out of you, Chloe.”
A door slammed.
“I’ma find her ass and let her beat the shit outta you, Chloe,” Danielle repeated in her best word-slurring Breaker imitation.
The two girls dissolved into drunk giggles.
Sasha’s story checked out. Breaker was every bit as pissed as she said he’d be, and he was looking for her. I watched her sleeping on the sofa, amazed that someone like her had put up with an asshole like him to rescue girls she didn’t even know.
I was worried about Sasha’s injuries and didn’t want to leave her alone, but I was exhausted and needed some sleep so I could deal with whatever new shit tomorrow brought our way. Since I was all about solving problems, I brought down the baby monitor from Hailey’s room and slid it under the sofa in the basement so I’d hear Sasha if she woke up and needed anything. Then I headed upstairs to shower and sleep.
Sasha
MY LEG ITCHED. I must have been scratching it in my sleep, because the pain of a nail biting into my tender flesh woke me. My left eye still felt swollen and tender, but I could open it. Someone had draped a blanket over me. I pulled it back far enough to check out my leg. The bandage was still in one piece, so whatever I’d done in my sleep, at least I hadn’t popped a stitch or reopened the cut. I dropped the blanket back down and closed my eyes.
I wanted to go back to sleep, but my shoulder was stiff and swollen. Leaning on my other side, I slowly rotated it forward and backward, hoping to loosen it up. The stretches hurt like hell, but at least I could do them. By the time I finished, my shoulder felt more sore than stiff. I sucked down a deep breath and my ribs screamed with pain. I shifted, and tried to get comfortable, but no matter how I adjusted, I was putting pressure against one painful bruise or another.
I felt like I’d been run over by a steam roller.
Unable to fall back to sleep, I turned my attention to my surroundings. I was still lying on the overstuffed sofa in Tap’s basement. The security screens that monitored the outside perimeter were brighter than they’d been last night, bathing the area in pale light of early morning.
“Tap?” I called out, wondering if my reluctant host was still around.
No answer. I glanced toward the bathroom, but the door was open, and the light was off.
Last night, I must have passed out while he was walking Havoc and Julia out, because I had no memory of him returning. The pillow beneath my head and the blanket covering me made it clear that someone had been in the room while I was asleep, but I was alone now.
My bladder was full and demanding to be emptied, so I threw back the covers and carefully sat up. A low-grade headache pulsed over my left eye, and my tender right butt cheek cried out in protest. One of those vicious bitches had literally kicked my ass. What kind of person did that? The horrible kind, because it was stupidly painful to sit or move. I cursed her existence as I gingerly scooted to the edge of my seat and slowly stood. My leg throbbed, but there was no shooting pain like last night. I took things slow and easy, making it to the bathroom only seconds before my bladder decided to give up.
When I finished on the toilet, I noticed a new toothbrush, still in the wrapper, on the countertop next to a tube of toothpaste. Since neither had been there last night when I’d showered, Tap must have brought them in for me. Silently praising him for his thoughtfulness, I cleaned myself up. My breath was minty fresh, and I felt almost human by the time I emerged. Finding my purse, I brushed out my hair and tried to make myself look a little more presentable in case my dark and sexy rescuer returned.
Since I was in no shape to work out and I was certain Tap’s laptop was locked down like Fort Knox, the room offered a whole lot of absolutely nothing to do. I sat on the sofa and waited, literally twiddling my thumbs as I wondered what was going on with Breaker. Was he pissed that I’d taken off? Had he gone to my house to look for me? What was going on with the girls? It had been a week since I’d seen Alicia. Was she still in the Serpent’s basement?
I was wasting time down here while I should be out there doing something. There was still time to redeem this situation with Breaker. Lies and excuses danced through my mind as I dissected each before settling on one. I’d tell him that hit to the head did me in. I blacked out, and when I woke up, I was in a park using my purse as a pillow. My cell phone was dead, and I had no clue where I was. As soon as Tap released me, I’d google the parks around Breaker’s house and solidify my story. Breaker would be suspicious, but he’d take me back. He had to.
Desperate to get out of there, I hobbled over to the door and tried the handle. As I’d expected, it was locked. I was trapped in a basement with no way to get out and no way of reaching anyone. I tried a couple of combinations on the keypad, but nothing worked. Afraid of setting off some sort of alarm and making a nuisance out of myself, I gave up hobbled back to the sofa.
I made it half way before the door opened. Light flooded the doorway, revealing a sexier version of the stripper from last night. He saw me and flipped on the light before sauntering into the room. He wore a pair of dark gray sweats and a green Seattle Sounders T-shirt. I tried not to gawk at him, but he was so damn fine I couldn’t help myself. His movements were familiar, very fluid and borderline provocative, but his face was not.
“Tap?” I asked, unable to believe my eyes.
“Mornin’.”
Same voice I remembered. “You look so different.”
“Washed off my disguise.”
Must have been one hell of a disguise. Now I understood why Havoc and Julia had made such a fuss about it. He looked like a completely different person. His jaw, nose, and forehead were wider, more masculine, and his eyes and lips were bigger. The scar on his cheek was gone, replaced by one on his temple. The real Tap was gorgeous. A solid ten before, now he was so far off the charts it wasn’t even fair to the rest of mankind. His feet were bare, his dark curls looked wet, and he was wearing glasses, adding a layer of comfortable intelligence to his appeal. He headed for the sofa, stopping to offer me his arm along the way.
I was hurting, and still in shock, so I accepted his help. “I like this version of you better.” My cheeks heated when I realized I’d said that out loud. Trying to redeem myself, I added, “I mean, it fits you better. Obviously, since this is the face you were born with. This is really you, and not another disguise, right?” I had no idea what the hell was wrong with me. I talked to people all day, every day, and I never tripped up like this. He had me rambling like a buffoon. I snapped my mouth closed to shut myself up.
“This is the real me. Glasses and all. How are you feelin’?” he asked. He smelled clean yet masculine, wonderful, and I had to resist the urge to sniff him.
Rambling and sniffing, I was a freaking mess.
