I’d been a swimming pool of doubt for months.
“What do you mean?”
“The same racket?” he asked.
“Oh. No. I mean… I dunno. I think things have changed too much. Don’t get me wrong, it was lucrative. We didn’t live rich, but we never had to worry about money.”
Thank God I’d been smart enough not to stashallthe money at the clubhouse. Or I’d be dealing with trying to figure out this new chronic illness of mine while also working some soul-sucking job. Though, yeah, money was dwindling down. Even with being careful.
But once I had my club back, I would have to figure out how to pay bills. And quickly.
“It just feels different because of what the girls have gone through.”
“Yeah.”
“They might find it empowering in a way. Having the upper hand on men again after being under their thumbs.”
“Maybe. I won’t know until they’ve gone through recovery and therapy for what happened to them, though. And I will need money before then. I have the mortgage mostly paid off, but bills will roll in eventually.”
“You can switch up the kind of blackmail. Plenty of secrets can be uncovered without putting beautiful women in front of lecherous men.”
“True,” I said. “I think I’d need to take some classes on, hacking and shit, though.”
“I happen to know a hacker,” Colter said.
“Let me guess… Rook.”
“How’d you know?”
“I dunno. It always seems to be the skinny guys with lots of ink.”
“Yeah. He could teach you a thing or two. Just an option to keep in mind.”
“I will,” I said. Though I knew myself well enough to know that asking for help was probably not going to be in my future. Toxic? Probably. But I wasn’t sure if that was fixable at this point.
“I got it from here,” I said when we reached the road across from the motel. He shot me a raised brow look that said,We’ve been herealready. “Fine,” I said with a sigh.
But, secretly, in a little place I planned to keep buried, I was glad he stayed at my side.
“Thank Detroit for dinner for me,” I said when we reached the door.
For maybe the first time in my life, I felt awkward with a man. Like I had no idea the right thing to say or do.
“Will do. See you tomorrow,” he said.
He paused for just a moment.
But whatever he was going to say or do, I’d never know, because he turned. Not back toward the clubhouse, though. He seemed to be heading toward town.
I’d just gotten my door unlocked and let Sugar rush in ahead of me when the door next to mine creaked open.
“Well, well, well,” a voice said, making me suck in an annoyed breath. Because every woman knew that tone. Knew the intentions behind it. “I didn’t know my neighbor was so hot.”
I cast a sideways glance at him because it was never good to let a possible predatory man remain faceless. He looked like he sounded. Slimy. Greasy. With sunken cheeks and close-set eyes. And a long, almost gaunt body clad in low-hanging jeans and a dirty white wifebeater.
“Fuck off,” I said.
“Oh, come on. Neighbor gotta be friend—whoa, what the fuck—”
