Page 35 of Dizzy

“What’s that mean?” Parker asks.

“You don’t want to find out.”

Carson’s not even paying attention. “Do you playPoint of Collision?” he interjects.

“Is that a video game?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“You want to?” Carson offers. Parker shoots him a dirty look.

“After I take a shower, okay.”

“You can play winner,” Parker says, grudgingly.

“Cool.”

The boys exchange glances. Apparently, they’re satisfied with our talk. Carson zooms off downstairs, and Parker vaults up on a counter to get a snack cake from a cabinet.

He leaves the door cracked as he races off after his brother. I can’t help but peek inside. The knot that’s always in my stomach uncoils a little when I see full shelves. Pasta, sauce, canned goods. Lots of open boxes of cereal. There are a few cans of tuna with the pop-tops. I grab them, and two packets of deer jerky.

When I go to take a shower, I hide them in a corner of the linen closet under a stack of towels. The tension in my neck eases. I peel the bandages off carefully. Feels like a waste to trash them, but I’ve stopped bleeding, and they’ll just fall off if they get wet.

I twist the knob as hot as I can take it, and I hop in, spending a whole thirty minutes in the shower, lathering and rinsing until the water begins to turn cool. There’s a shit ton of boats and sharks and a sea plane in the tub, but I shove them to the end and enjoy.

“Intergalactic Watermelon” is really an under-rated scent. Plus, it’s body wash, shampoo, and conditioner in one.

It’s warm, quiet, and no one’s banging on the door demanding to be let in so they can take a shit.

I’m all alone, and pizza is on the way.

It’s heaven.

* * *

After the shower,I throw my hair up into a ponytail and go looking for some clothes. The master suite is at the end of the hall. I might be able to squeeze into Parker’s T-shirts, but Dizzy’s clothes are a better bet. Besides, I’m curious.

This dude has layers.

Here in his house, he’s like every dad who trudges into the Gas-and-Go for bait or a six-pack. Gruff, take-no-shit. Oblivious. World-weary.

It’s hard to believe he’s the same guy who demanded to see my pussy. Shivers race down my spine. He was so intense. Sointoit. Not like Rylan was into it—as if he was grabbin’ the last doughnut in the box before someone else could get it. With Dizzy, it was more like he couldn’t believe his eyes so he refused to blink.

And then later in the woods, and when he cleaned up my leg, he was almost tender. Gentle. I press my hand to my belly to soothe the flutters.

But I can’t forget how he was in the basement. Not the spanking. That was—I’m gonna need to think that through later, in the dark, when I’m settled down. But when Jed got in my face, and Dizzy laid him on his ass?

Underneath it all, Dizzy is a dangerous man. He runs with dangerous people, and he knows how to use his fists.

Yeah, in that moment, he was defending me. And that felt a weird kind of good. The flutters in my belly turn to swoops. But I’m not stupid. I don’t know my daddy, but I’ve had a long education in men. If they’re the type to use their fists, they can use ‘em on you.

It’s the basic logic that my sisters can never figure out. If he’ll cheatwithyou, he’ll cheatonyou. If he doesn’t see his kids by his ex, he’ll ghost yours, too. If he spends all his money on himself, he ain’t gonna have any left for child support.

That’s such reliable logic it’s almost math.

I need to tread carefully. Enjoy the shower and central heat, but keep focused. I need cash. Food. Clothes. And I need to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. No one’s gonna save me but myself.

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