She doesn’t like the rule. Fine with me. I thrust the keys back into her hand and stalk past her.
“Come on, Tommy. Get in the car.”
“No! No,” Morgan hurries in front of my path. “I won’t talk about God.”
“Okay...” I say reluctantly.
We load into the truck. I press the start button, and it roars to life.
Holy fuck this truck is nice. I think my testosterone level just spiked hearing the diesel engine rumble. As we pull onto the street, it fits like a glove. Easy handling. Smooth ride. The power.
I can’t help it. I’m grinning.
I glance over. Morgan stares at me with a mischievous smile.
“What?” I ask.
She shrugs innocently. “You look good driving a truck. It suits you.”
I squint at her. She can’t be hitting on me. Nah, I’m not her type. Not even close.
“Thanks,” I reply. “Ilike cars better.”
“What kind?”
“Drag cars. Pro-mods mostly. I like turbos over nitrous...” I stop talking. She doesn’t know what I’m saying. I sum it up instead. “I like street racing.”
“Oh. Cool.”
Cool and a pipe dream.
Chapter 8
Jack
Once inside the store, I walk down a long aisle of doors. The place smells like lumber and paint. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead.
Morgan walks beside me, texting on her phone. Her heels click softly against concrete.
I try to be careful with what I say. I need her to like my family enough to give Noel a break. Her dad must want him punished if he pressed charges. He’s always been heartless. Everything I do circles back to protecting my brothers, yet he won’t give me a break.
I ask casually, “Why did you come to my house, and why help with the door?”
“I don’t know. Paying it forward. You helped me. I help you.”
Makes sense, I guess. But deep down, something doesn’t feel right. She’s too calm.
Now that I think about it, she seems unbothered. Nobody would guess she was assaulted yesterday. Just look at her. Hair and makeup as polished as ever. Little Sunday dress.
I wonder if she knows it’s tailored in a way that screams sex despite covering every inch of her most tempting parts.
And man, are they tempting. Her small waist accentuates the fullness of that plush ass...
Okay Jack, stop. Focus on what matters. The attack. I’ve been so disoriented from the robbery, that I forgot to ask how she’s doing. Apparently, she went to church like it was just another day.
“You alright? After last night?”
“Mm-hm,” she answers dismissively and points ahead. “Oh, wow, that’s a pretty door.”
