Page 13 of I Stop Somewhere Waiting For You

Her destroyed baggy jeans sat low on her hips, the band of a pair of white boxer briefs peeking out above the waist. She flipped her hair up and over, collecting it into a high bun before twisting her body around trying to catch a glimpse of her lower back, which must have been scraped up in the fall.

As she twisted and contorted her torso, inspecting for injuries, I was able to make out the planes of her well-defined stomach. Damn, she had a body that made my mouth water. And when she maneuvered into a position which gave me unobstructed access to her ribs, I bit down on my lip so hard I damn near drew blood at the sight of her ink.

Satisfied with her inspection, she scooped up her hoodie from the ground and tied it around her waist. Pulling the elastic from her hair, she shoved her helmet back on and picked up her bike. She hopped on and got it started in two kicks before making her way toward the back of the property, which I assumed must link to her house. Right before she cleared the track, she veered off to the left, speeding up to hit one last jump and backflipping before sticking the landing. My jaw dropped as she raced off into the woods.

She’s the walking embodiment of a fucking wet dream.

Two realizations happened in that moment. One—For the first time in my life, I pitied Nicky C. Because if she was my sister, if I was responsible for keeping assholes like me away from her, my backyard wouldn’t have a handful of unmarked graves, it would be a fucking cemetery. And two—Jonsie Hunter was going to be mine.

I tore through the Cathedral like a man on a mission when I got back, making a beeline straight for my office. I ripped open the bottom filing cabinet drawer with such force, it almost went flying across the room. Dropping the heavy file atop my desk, I flung it open, beginning my descent into madness.

And that leads me back to where I am now. Hours later, reading over every detail, obsessing over each new fact I learn.

I’m shifting through the papers when Finn enters.

“What up, Mav?” He gives me a slight nod, dropping into one of the leather chairs positioned in front of my desk. He starts giving me a rundown of the new shipment that just came in, but I’m too distracted to care.

My gaze locks in on a bright orange sticky note taped to the inside cover of the file. I don’t know how missed it the first time. I read the haphazard scribble to myself and feel my mouth tip up at the edges.

“So, what do you say, Mav?”

“Hmm?” I glance over at Finn, who apparently just had a whole conversation without me participating at all.

“I said, what we getting into this weekend?”

I look down at the note once more, confirming today’s date, while making note of the time and location.

“Wanna go to a bonfire?” I ask, flashing a mischievous grin.

CHAPTER 9

JONSIE

We pull up to the entrance of Field 2, a local party spot in the middle of nowhere in Dutchess. The chains that typically block the gateway are already down, allowing us to proceed ahead.

I’m driving Nicky’s Wrangler tonight with Daphne riding shotgun and JP in the backseat. My phone buzzes in the cup holder beside me, Nicky’s name illuminating the screen. I swipe up to a text.

Nicky: You at the spot?

Nicky left a few hours ago for his meet in New York City, but he’s been checking in. He won’t be back until tomorrow.

I pull up alongside the other cars at the far end of the field before throwing it in park and responding.

Me: Act like you don’t already have my phone tracker pulled up.

Nicky: Brat.

Me: ;-P What time’s your meet?

Nicky: On our way there now. JP with you?

Me: You know it :) Please be safe.

Nicky: Always. Text me when you’re home - nonnegotiable. Love you.

Me: Love you more xo.

I lift up my hips, sliding the phone into my back pocket.

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