Rip
She stirs in my arms but doesn’t wake up. It’s almost eight o’clock in the morning, but I’ve only been here three hours. As it stands, I must be up and out for most of the day.
Luckily, her friends weren’t here when I broke in. I squeeze one of her nipples between my fingers.
“Wake up.”
Her eyes flutter open, and she smiles at me.
“I have to go to Newport.” I’ve never had to explain my plans to anyone, not even Dax. I do the work, and he doesn’t give a fuck what I do outside of that, but telling Eden my plans feels more freeing than restrictive.
“Newport, Rhode Island?” she asks, and I nod.
She sits up, suddenly excited. “I love Newport. Give me a few minutes.” She starts to get off the bed, and I prepare myself to disappoint her, but she speaks first. “Fuck. We have family coming today. Mom is insisting we go to church before Dad barbecues.”
It sounds so idyllic, and so unlike anything I’ve experienced in my life. Stroking her head, I smile into her eyes.
“I’ll take you next time,” I offer, and she claps her hands like an excited little girl. “I won’t be long. I’ll see you soon.”
Fucking idiot.I’ve been following him for the past ten minutes, and he has no idea. He emerged from a large home and into a luxury SUV registered to his mother, like the rich, entitled little dipshit that he is.
The little asshole had a drug problem, but according to Preacher, he’s been to rehab. He’s a screwup who can’t keep a job, and I don’t know how Eden chose men before I came along. I don’t know how the woman managed to live a life before me to look after her.
Preacher has been tailing this moron for the past two weeks. We know his routine and that of his parents. They leave for work by seven, and dipshit strolls out of the house sometime right before noon and walks to his job at a coffee shop.
I tail him into the alley, and just as we discussed, there’s a truck parked with the back doors open. I stop the car, put on my mask and gloves, and walk behind him. He doesn’t notice me until it’s too late. I point my Glock at his face. His eyes widen in shock, and he holds both hands up.
“Get in the fucking truck, dipshit,” I whisper.
“Don’t shoot. My parents will give you whatever you want.”
“You’re right about that. Get in the fucking truck. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
He looks around, but Preacher runs from the driver’s seat. I put the Glock in my waistband and punch the dipshit, knocking him out cold, before shoving him in the truck.
“Let’s go. I was able to disable all the cameras in this alley, but time’s running out,” Preacher says. “Follow me back to his house. They keep the safe in the main bedroom.”
It’s a little after three when I speed down Eden’s street on my bike. We texted before I left Rhode Island. I know she has a house full of relatives here, and they are having a barbecue on a Sunday afternoon.
I also texted her father. He didn’t reply, but I know he read my text. I drive past her house and make a U-turn at the end of her dead-end street. I stop and flood my engine. It doesn’t take long for her to come running down the driveway. I get off the bike just in time for her to fly into my arms.
“I missed you,” she says against my mouth.
“Me too. I have something for you, but I’ll give it to you tonight.” She wiggles her brows, and I chuckle. “Not that, but you’ll get that, too. You ready to go?” I already know the answer.
“Not even close. Dad’s almost done barbequing.”
“And how was church today?” I ask.
“Boring, but—” The words die on her tongue. She must hear the footsteps behind her. She turns her head and whispers, “Oh, shit.” Her hand goes to my chest. “I’ll handle it,” she says. “Don’t worry.”
I want to laugh again, but I hold it in. After seeing that dipshit she was with before me, I know why she thinks she has to handle things on my behalf, but that day will never come.
Her father walks down the long driveway, her mother following behind him. They come to a stop where their driveway meets the street, and since this is a public street, Serena can’t tell me to go.
“Dandy,” her dad says while Serena crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at me. “And, uh, you.” He gestures at me as if I’m an afterthought.
“We’re just talking.” Eden stands in front of the bike, and I don’t know if that’s to hide or protect me.
