He pressed his hands to his chest. “Awww, Henny. You wanna have a sleepover with me. How sweet.”
I ignored him as I made my way to the elevator. I needed to get him settled and away from me as soon as possible.
Pip remained quiet as we rode upstairs. While I should have enjoyed it, there was a tension between us I couldn’t get past. I didn’t know what to make of it, nor did I want to try.
Tomorrow would be a fine time to overanalyze it all. Tonight was for resting.
At the door to my suite, I turned to face him. “If you’ll go straight to the couch, I’ll grab you the extra linens. There’s a bathroom for you to use if you need it as well. I’ll be going straight to bed as I have an early morning.”
I didn’t wait for his reply. Doing as I’d said, I let him in, bolted the door, grabbed his bedding, then went to the walk-in closet to change into my nightwear.
Taking my time, I listened closely for any sign Pip was done in the bathroom. When I heard the toilet flush, I knew it was clear for me to use it and then get into bed.
I basically sprinted into the bathroom, closing the door as quickly and quietly as possible. After I was done, I eased it open in hopes it wouldn’t catch the other man’s attention.
Ironically, I needn’t have worried. Pip was already snoring softly from his spot on the couch.
I stood in the doorway watching him for a few long moments. The calm I’d seen in the office earlier was nothing compared to how relaxed he looked now.
After a bit, I dragged myself into bed. For some reason, I left the bedroom door open. I could have used the excuse of making sure Pip had access to the bathroom without waking me.
That wasn’t the entire reason.
My intuition wouldn’t let me close it. I couldn’t pinpoint why.
At least not until I heard the whimpering hours later.
CHAPTER 5
Pip
The dream startedas it always did. I was alone in a room, locked away like I was someone's dirty little secret.
This part was less dream and more memory.
My mother had been my father's mistress. The minute he found out she was pregnant, he demanded she get rid of me. But my mother wasn't one to cower to anyone's demands.
Iconic bad bitch behavior. Truly.
She wanted to keep me. Felt that I was part of her gift from God or something. So, she decided to raise me on her own and took off.
Then a fucked-up mess happened. A random mugging turned murder took her from me. Put me in a system that wasn't built to properly take care of children.
I lived my life between the streets and foster places. Mostly, I was outside getting into shit. The houses that I was placed in never really wanted me there. They just wanted the paycheck.
I found other ways to keep myself busy, found other tricks of the trade, if you will. It still couldn't stop the memories of beingalone. Of being locked away the few times people were able to pin me down.
And that didn't include the abuse. The fists that would fly my way when someone was angry I didn't do exactly what they said.
I'd been forced to watch it happen to others too.
You would think after all that time that I wouldn't find peace in it, that it wouldn't bring me balance. But it was more than the violence I loved and craved.
It was the control.
I was the one wielding the knife, the one toting the gun. I would be the decider of someone's fate.
But that didn't stop the nightmares.
