Page 21 of Hyde

She’s probably a little taller than the last time I saw her. Her blonde hair has more reddish highlights than I remember, her amber eyes are just as bright and full of life as they always were. But now, it’s the way that she holds herself that screams she’s no longer a child.

Waking up, I didn’t want to startle her, what with her gluing my flesh together at that moment. Seeing her completely focused on the task, it was hard not to smile as she silently talked herself through what seemed like an itemized list of dealing with a gun wound.

I could only guess how I ended up on the floor, but I have no doubt that I’m in the best possible hands.

At least until we’re in the same state as Riley.

Because that woman’s gonna take one look at my face and enlist every one of her friends to dismember me and hide my body.

Granted, I can probably get Mom on my side to possibly turn the tide—and save my hide, one more time. While it was a no brainer to walk away from a child all those years ago, the woman before me is going to be hard to resist. Maybe I’m delusional from blood loss, thinking she’s even still interested in my ancient ass. Then I remember the kiss she laid on me.

When Gunner called, he kept our conversation short, never mentioning names or places. I almost cringed when Leslee saidmy road name, but am relieved she called her brother by that ridiculous nickname she did when she was six and wanted a puppy more than a baby brother; once she realized he wasn’t a dress up doll.

Vector’s been notified that we’re here and need some help, so I can only hope that whoever he sends will distract her attention over the coming days.

Leslee tosses the phone to me when she’s done talking and turns back to whatever she had started whipping up in the kitchen. I let her be, just content to watch her.

“Hungry?” she asks me a good ten minutes later, without looking at me.

“That depends,” I answer her, not shifting my eyes from the sway of her hips. “Was it Gunner or Riley who taught you how to cook?”

“Daddy taught me how to hunt, Momma taught me how to cook,” she says with a laugh, giving me a wink over her shoulder.

Despite the teasing tone of her voice, those words send a chill through my body. “Can we eat over here?”

“Of course,” she replies, dishing up two bowls and carrying them over before doubling back with two water bottles. “Tell me what you think.”

I take a couple of bites before vigorously nodding my head. “Fuck. What am I even eating?”

“I used ramen noodles as the base, then I had to get creative,” she snorts with a shrug as she shovels food into her own mouth.

That’s when I realize that she hadn’t eaten since before getting on the plane from Idaho. I finish off my plate, then gulp the water, and turn down a second helping to ensure she’ll have enough to eat tonight.

“Want to tell me what happened back home?” I ask her next, not having gotten more than the barest facts.

“What did Flint and Dad tell you?”

“They said that a cartel has a marker on you. Seems your nose for trouble hasn’t changed and you stumbled upon some stolen shit,” I say to egg her on, ensuring I’ll get her versions of events.

“This story gets more interesting every time I hear it,” she practically snarls at me, getting up and tossing her bowl into the sink before turning to face me again. Not that I’m any expert in body language, but she looks a little angry, what with her hands fisted on her hips and her eyes narrowed into slits. “You want to know what happened? Your skanky ex made off with a bag of nasty ass shit and when she tossed it out a window to keep Dad from seeing it, I hid it, not knowing what was in it. Now everyone thinks she went blabbing to some cartel thatIstole it in the first place.”

“My ex?” I swallow, praying that she doesn’t say…

“Fucking Trinity!” Leslee growls, throwing her arms up as she invokes the one name that I wish I could scrub from my past.

“Would you mind starting at the beginning?” I debated asking Leslee, not wanted to rile her up any further, but I’d be a fool not to find out what we’re dealing with.

She lets out ahumphsound, stalking toward me and yanking the bowl out of my hand. The next thing I know she’s produced a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses of ice.

“You’re eighteen,” I half-heartedly remind her.

“And part of your head was shaved when you got passed-out drunk at the clubhouse at sixteen. I can survive a couple of shots,” she sasses back, and I hold my hands up in surrender even though she had started pouring it already.

I smile at the first part of her re-telling, knowing that Gunner always stops for soft-serve at the same spot and from her words, it’s obvious that their bond has only grown over the years I’ve been away.

To say that her rage at seeing Trinity was visceral is an understatement, and it’s not my ego talking when I know that Leslee’s dislike of Trinity has more to do with me dating that bitch—and the explosive end to that relationship—than the fact that she’s now on the run because of Trinity.

Apparently, there was some debate about sending Leslee away, and how far was wise. Once Mungo was found and lived long enough to tell Jasper that Trinity had pointed the Navaja cartel in Leslee’s direction, there were no further arguments.

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