Page 279 of By His Rule

I sit with my thighs practically pressed to the people on either side of me on the really fucking hard seats and a scowl on my face.

I have no interest in talking to anyone for the next four hours and twenty minutes, and I’m more than happy to let them know it.

I pay for the downright awful WIFI and attempt to deal with some emails, but my inbox barely loads let alone sends anything.

By the time I get off the flight, I’m more than ready to put this fucking day—this weekend—behind me.

The airport is a fucking nightmare, and it takes me forever to get to the car rental and collect the car I organized from O’Hare.

It’s late by the time I hit the road, the GPS telling me that I’ve got almost an hour's drive to get to the address I found back at Lorelei’s apartment.

I’ve been to LA before. The sights around LAX aren’t new to me. But before long, I leave the bright lights of the city behind. The landscape changes quickly and not long later, so does the feel of the place.

The houses get more and more dilapidated as I pull into a town I’ve never heard of before, and there are more cars abandoned on the side of the road than actually going anywhere.

I’m hyper-aware of everything as I make my way down what I assume is the main street. The odd street light flickers, allowing the few people staggering around a chance to see their hands in front of their faces. But other than that, there’s nothing.

The majority of the businesses that line both sides of the street seem to be boarded up. And if they’re not, the windows are smashed, and they’re covered in graffiti.

The place is depressing as hell. The thought of Lorelei and her brothers calling a place like this home fills me with dread.

They deserve so much more.

And things only get worse as I close in on the destination I tapped into the GPS.

“Oh shit,” I gasp, the car bouncing after falling into the world’s biggest pothole as I drive into the entrance of a trailer park. “Fucking hell.”

My eyes are wide as I take in my surroundings. This place looks like hell. And the darkness is probably hiding the worst of it. I can only imagine what it’ll be like come dawn.

I shudder at the thought.

Suddenly, all of Lorelei’s first impressions of me make much more sense.

She wasn’t lying when she said that we grew up in different worlds.

Only a few minutes later, the GPS happily tells me that I’ve reached my destination, and I pull to a stop outside a trailer. It’s one of a handful with the lights on, and I can only hope that’s a good thing.

As I kill the engine, I let out a heavy sigh and look around once more.

It occurs to me that they might have moved, but something tells me that they haven’t.

Swallowing down my apprehension, I push the door open and step out straight into a deep, muddy pothole.

Wonderful.

With my head held high, I walk toward what I assume is the front door to the trailer and knock.

My heart jumps into my throat the second I hear movement and voices on the other side of the door.

I don’t allow myself to consider the fact that some stranger with a gun—or worse—is about to come to the door.

Lorelei is in there. I know she is. And she will hate me for doing this.

66

LORELEI

The second there’s a knock at the door, both Wilder and Hendrix look my way.

---