My phone rings this time, and I throw the blanket off of me. I’m still in a T-shirt and underwear as I cross the room and grab my phone off the dresser. When I left Texas, I considered throwing my phone out the window halfway but didn’t. As my sister’s name flashes on the screen, I wish I had.
Eden: You can’t ignore me forever. I’m your sister.
Eden: Come on, Willa. It was a mistake. We were drinking, and he gave me a ride home. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.
Eden: I’m sorry. It wasn’t even worth it.
It wasn’t even worth it?
I can’t help but laugh because what am I supposed to say to that statement? Does she expect me to care that she traded my trust for bad sex with my fiancé? I could have told her that Kincaid is a shitty lay. He expects the woman to do all the work, and not once did he give me an orgasm. It’s one of many reasons I stopped caring when he started cheating on me. If anything, it was an excuse for him not to touch me anymore.
But for Eden to think she can complain to me about that?
Fuck both of them.
I turn my phone off and set it on the dresser. I don’t want her excuses when all I’ve done my entire life is protect her. I’m the buffer who made living with our father bearable for her. This is how she repays me? She burned the bridge, and now she can live with it.
Before Dean can return, I dip into the bathroom and quickly get changed. I repack my bag, checking the door to the bedroom a final time, finding it still locked.
At least there’s a window, so I have another way out. The wood groans as I shove it open. Dust kicks up like it hasn’t been opened in years.
The sun has barely crested the horizon, but the Vegas desert is already warming. It’s April, so the sun is still bearable, which will work in my favor since the clubhouse is in the middle of nowhere. I have a long walk back to the city.
With a final glance back at Dean’s room, I say goodbye to the man I once knew but apparently no longer do. Then I toss my bag through the window and climb after it.
The window almost smashes my fingers as I slip out of it. It slides closed so hard the wooden frame cracks at the corner.
I sling my bag over my shoulder and head in the direction of the road. Thankfully, most of the windows are closed with the curtains pulled tight, so I only have to crawl beneath a few of them.
Unlike last night when the clubhouse was vibrating from the music, it’s quiet this morning. The guys must be sleeping, and if that’s the case, I don’t want to think about where Dean decided to do that.
As I round the clubhouse, I take in the property. Sunrise kisses the ground, casting a beautiful glow. Wind tussles the sagebrush. The desert is in bloom this time of year. Splashes of yellow and orange dot the horizon.
The clubhouse appears to be the focal point of the land, with a few buildings farther out. It’s not clear what they use them for, and because of that, I probably don’t want to know. At a distance, there’s a collection of houses. A small neighborhood at the far end of the Twisted Kings property.
The hum of a motorcycle gets louder, and I press close to the clubhouse, staying hidden until it fades. Once it’s silent again, I peel myself off the side of the clubhouse and round the corner. Only to be stopped in my path by an annoyingly firm chest.
“Going somewhere, princess?” Dean smirks, towering over me.
God, he’s beautiful in the light of morning. His jaw is peppered in scruff, adding an edge to his already strong jawline. His messy dark hair falls to the ridge of his eyebrows. Broad shoulders square his frame.
He stands casually with his hands tucked in his pockets like he’s been waiting for me since I crawled out of his window.
My eyes narrow, and I roll my shoulders back, refusing to let him see my surprise. “Are you tracking me now?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “That’s not a bad idea. But no.”
Dean’s eyes move up as he angles his chin toward the clubhouse. A camera is tucked in the eaves, watching me.I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy to sneak away.
“I thought I made myself clear last night. You’re not going anywhere until I say so.” He scans my outfit when I tug on the hem of my very short shorts.
The small scrap of denim isn’t fancy, especially when paired with a black tank top and cowboy boots, but his throat works when his gaze pauses on my bare legs, stoking my confidence.
“I’m a big girl now, Dean. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Is that so?”
I clear my throat, trying to keep my composure. “I gave you all the information I have on your brother’s business deal. There’s nothing else I can help you with.”
