“Well, I’m glad you didn’t,” I grunt, immediately bristling as Cade opens the truck door. Molly’s eyes jump to him, and then to the mud and whatever else on my jeans.
“What…”
“Farm stuff.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Right, okay.”
“Go inside,” I keep my voice calm. “We’ll talk in a minute. He’s staying in the basement tonight.”
My daughter purses her lips together, and I hate the way she’s looking at me right now. She knows my life is really fucking complicated, but she doesn’t ask. Probably because she knows I won’t tell her.
Because I love her. It’s that simple.
“You’re Molly?” Cade’s voice cuts through the night air, as she heads back to the porch steps.
“I—”
“Nope,” I cut off my daughter and grab the back of Cade’s shirt. I drag him toward the exterior entrance into the basement. I unlock the door, never letting go of him, and then force him down the steps, flipping the light on.
It’s basically like a studio apartment down here, and while it serves its purpose, I only ever use it if I can’t trust guys to stay in the bunkhouse.
Clearly, Cade is one of those.
“You can’t keep me in here forever,” Cade says as I release him, and he stumbles back. He plops down on the edge of the bed, peering up at me. I hate the sympathy I have for the murderer. “You know I go stir crazy.”
“Then you should’ve stayed put in the bunkhouse, and not wandered.”
“I needed a release.”
“Then you call me.”
“Controlling motherfucker.”
I raise my brows. “I’m shocked you label me that, when you were buddies with Ben Knight. He might be the worst of them all.”
Cade’s jaw does a hard set, and I know I’ve struck a hard nerve. “You don’t know the first thing about me. I’ve been here for six months, and you still don’t get me. I thought you were like fucking Ghandhi.”
“And I thought I could trust you to show up. But you keep dropping off when I need you. There are people looking for you, and I can’t keep you from those people if we don’t work together,” I say, noticing the water droplets pooling up around my muddy boots.
I need a fucking shower.
And a nap.
And my daughter to do as I say for once.
Chapter 4
Jenna
Breathe.Just breathe.
Partial truths. Give them partial truths.
“Jenna Williams?” a voice comes from the professor’s office. “We’re ready for you.”
I stand to my feet, dust off my black slacks, and paste a smile on my face. My blonde hair is pulled back in a nice clip and I take a moment to adjust the dark rimmed glasses without a prescription. It felt a little gawdy when I put them on this morning…
But it fits the vibe.
