Page 176 of Unwrapping Deviance

“You have no idea.”

Cherrie purses her lips even as she reaches for a mug and fills it with coffee. She slides it in front of me.

“Go on. I’m a really good listener.”

The offer’s sweet, but I’m not going into my life story with a barely ... what? Sixteen? Seventeen year old. But I accept the coffee and sip it black.

“How long have you lived here?” I ask her instead.

A shoulder bumps up and down. “Whole life, but...” she leans in like she’s about to tell me her darkest secret. “I’m going to get out. Going to see the world.”

I grin at that. “Good for you. I hope you do. It’s pretty nice out there.”

Cherrie sighs and folds her arms over her chest. “Anything is better than this place.”

I don’t tell her how right she is.

My order arrives and Cherrie tucks it into a bag. I pay and leave a generous tip to get her started on that trip out ofJefferson. And just because I’m an ass, I glance over at the three still eyeing me and give a two-finger salute.

“Don’t wait too long,” I tell them before pushing open the diner door and stepping out into the night.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHRISTIAN

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I can hear her quiet sobbing.

Even through the door, over the roar of rushing water, her pain radiates. It pulses like an open wound and it’s my fault. All of it. I let this happen. I let her get taken. I nearly lost her because I was stupid and sloppy.

Daniel would never have let that happen. He would never have been that careless. He would have locked the front door behind him. He would have made Mira go up to the bedrooms and lock herself in until it was safe.

So many ways he would have made sure she was protected.

Now, she’s broken because of me.

I failed her.

Still, my hand reaches for the doorknob and I let himself into the chamber of sweltering steam. The white mist is a heavy, sticky weight practically concealing everything.

“Sweetheart?”

Her soft sniffle cuts me. “Christian?”

I shut the door behind me, ignoring the immediate regret as my clothes plaster to the sweat rising off my skin.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

The shower curtain pulls back and her tiny face pokes out, red from the shower and crying, and bruised. Her blue eyes meet mine with so much heartache I can feel it in my chest.

“Will you come in?”

I’m tearing off my clothes before she has a chance to finish. It’s all chucked to one side and I’m slipping between the plastic sheets to stand under the scalding spray with her.

“Jesus!” I hiss, scrambling around her, putting myself between her and the boiling spray to turn the cold higher. “Jesus, Mira.”

I turn to face her once I’m sure she’s not going to melt her skin off and look her over.

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