She got me.
She knew what I’d gone through—the shit I’d done—and she wasn’t appalled or disgusted. No, she thanked me for my sacrifice and cried for my pain. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel alone. This crazy, gorgeous cop with a superhero complex and a death wish empathized. She truly got me.
And strangely enough, I got her, too.
By the time she released me, her eyes were bright but dry. She beamed me a bolstering smile and sucked in a breath, wincing slightly at the pain in her ribs.
“You okay?” I asked.
She made a sour face. “Might be time for some more ibuprofen.”
I nodded. “Good call. What about breakfast? I can cook the hell out of some Pop-Tarts.”
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Please tell me you’re talking about strawberry and not some weird flavor like s’mores?”
After such a heavy conversation, I expected a certain level of discomfort or tension, but Sasha was having none of it. She was throwing me the lifeline to lighten the mood, and I snatched up that motherfucker and held on tight.
“Do I look like an animal? Of course, I mean strawberry.”
“Thank the Lord. I can get down on some strawberry Pop-Tarts. Do you need any help?”
But I still wasn’t comfortable enough to let her come upstairs. “Nah. You’re still healing. You stay down here and make yourself comfortable. How are you at first-person shooters?”
She cocked her head to the side. “I’m a cop. Shooting people is basically my job.” Her cheeks turned bright red and her eyes bugged out. “And I totally didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Wow. That’s really fucked up.”
I was too busy laughing to let her off the hook.
“How about… target practice is a big part of my job.”
“It’s your story, babe, tell it how you want.”
She tossed the pillow at me. I caught it mid-air and tossed it back.
“I’ll go whip us up breakfast and bring down a television and my gaming console. I hope you’re not a sore loser.”
“I’d have to lose to be sore. I plan on handing you your ass for that comment.”
“Challenge accepted.”
We spent the rest of the day playing video games, eating junk food, and talking smack. It was the most fun I’d ever had.
Tap
SUNDAY MORNING, LIFE threw me another curve ball. It came in the form of a phone call from Mama as I was walking into the kitchen to evaluate our cereal options before I went downstairs to check on Sasha. Figuring Mama was just calling to check in, I answered.
“Hey, Alex, we’ll be home in about five minutes.”
I stared at the clock on the stove, realizing it was already almost eleven. Yesterday had flown by in the best way possible, and Sasha and I had stayed up way too late enjoying it. “What? Why?”
“Hailey’s got a little flu bug. I’m sure it’s nothing major, but she’s feverish and achy and complaining that her stomach hurts. She was up most of the night and needs to be home and in her own bed. Besides, it’s Sunday. We were coming home today anyway.”
I glanced at the door leading down to the basement. “Right. I was actually going to call you and see if you wanted to stay another day or two.”
She took a deep breath. “I see. Will we be in danger if we come home now?”
Despite everything that was going on, my home was still a safe place. Sasha was in the basement, but she wasn’t a threat to Hailey. Hell, if anything went down, I had no doubt the suspended cop would do whatever it took to protect my kid. As long as I could keep her fine ass from doing something stupid, Sasha was an asset, not a threat. The Serpents didn’t know where I lived, but Morse did. He’d given Havoc that message partially to fuck with me, and partially to reassure me that he had my back. If anything went down, there’d be a club full of bikers showing up to help. I’d seen Morse in action like that before when Julia’s bookstore was breached by her bat-shit crazy ex.
“No. It’s still safe here, but I’m in the middle of something I was hoping to handle before you came home.”
