“Nowhere,” Sly answers, unblinking.
Pete steps out of the bathroom, and I take a step back from Sly as I gesture toward the open door.
“Not even the bathroom?” I ask, taking another slow step back, as if any fast movement will make him pounce.
His eyes narrow when he catches the movement. “Be careful, little bird,” he says, a dark warning lacing his deep voice as he takes a step toward me. “Don’t taunt me.”
“Why not?” I ask, feeling bold as I lift my chin and halt my retreat, wondering what he’ll do if I push him. He doesn’t scare me. Not much. At least not in a“oh no he’s gonna hurt me”sort of way. More like a“what will he do to me if I push him too far”sort of way.
“Because you’re not ready to see what happens when I lose control.”
“You’d never hurt me.” I know deep inside my heart that it’s true, that Sly would never harm me.
“Never,” he says, his eyes raking over me. “But there are other ways to lose control. Especially where you are concerned.”
I’m unsure what he means, but I feel my cheeks heat and quickly turn, grab my spare dress, and step into the bathroom, practically slamming the door closed behind me before he follows me in. I’m not sure if he’s being serious about the whole not going anywhere alone thing, but somethings a girl just has to do on her own. And this was one of them.
“Tell me again,” Sly says from the front seat of the SUV, as I try not to roll my eyes. We’ve already been through this three times.
“I go inside, find men’s T-shirts and grab four large and four extra-large, take them to the cash desk, wait for them to tell me the amount, then pass them the cash and wait for the change. They’ll put the shirts in a bag and pass them back to me, and I come straight back out here.”
“Good girl,” he says with a nod, making my insides warm from the praise.
Jagger shoves the cellphone under Sly’s face, and he reads the message aloud,“I don’t like this.”He sighs before telling him, “Me neither, but we’re lucky the clerk at the motel didn’t notice us; not everybody will be as oblivious. Besides, we're parking right outside the front door.”
“And if anyone is dumb enough to come near here, I’ll kill ‘em,” Pete says with a shrug, as he twirls a small homemade knife through his fingers.
“Where did you get that?” I ask curiously.
“You like it?” he asks, offering me a big smile as he holds it up to show me. “I made it in prison.”
I take a second to admire his craftsmanship. I think it’s made from a toothbrush and a piece of glass. They’ve been bound together in a way that it won’t harm him. “You’re very talented,” I tell him honestly. Dex snorts at my comment.
“Okay, Wren. Time to go, the store looks empty. Remember, in and out as fast as you can,” Sly instructs.
“But don’t run,” Pete rushes to add on.
“I’ve got this,” I tell them as Pete opens the door and lets me out. I straighten my dress, lift my chin, adjust my bag on my hip, which no longer contains hundreds of thousands of dollars since the guys said that was dangerous for me to carry, and walk into the store.
A glance at the name above the door, right before I enter—Bonnie’s Clothing Boutique. I wasn’t exactly sure what a boutique was, but the guys assured me this was safer than a large store, which would have cameras and lots of people.
As soon as I’m inside, my eyes scan the clothing. There’s so much to look at.
“Welcome, can I help you find something?” A woman asks as she moves toward me. The guys never said anything about someone offering to help. But as I scan the store again, I realize I can’t even see where the men’s section is.
“Yes, I need men's T-shirts, please.” I notice she’s wearing a purple blouse with black dress pants.
Because womencanwear pants.
I shouldn’t be surprised that Robert lied to me about that, too. But it makes me angry, knowing that he’s kept so much from me. I always thought he was taking good care of me, but he was actually just controlling me.
“They're right over here,” she says, beckoning me to follow her. As we move through the store, my fingers reach out to touch the fabrics, wishing I could try something on. I’ve only ever worn a dress. What would it feel like to wear pants?
A pair of ripped black jeans catches my attention.New jeans with rips in them?That seems strange, but also… I kind ofloved it. It was so far from the usual polished appearance that I suddenly wanted nothing more than to buy them.
“We just got those in, they’d look great on you,” the woman says, noticing what had distracted me.
“Hmm,” I hum with a nod before removing my hand. “Next time, I just need the shirts today.” I follow her, resisting the urge to look around anymore. I promised I would just get the shirts and get out.
