Page 45 of Heathen

I swallow as I consider all my options, quickly coming to the conclusion that hiding what's happened to me could put her in danger.

"So remember when I told you about that group of Russian women that come into the store?"

"Yes. The ones you said all look like supermodels?"

"That's them," I say and then spill everything. I tell her about going to the warehouse, and after she chastises me for putting myself in such danger for five minutes, I manage to tell her about Ellis, the marriage, and the scary interaction at my house earlier that landed us at this extravagant property.

"Hold on," she says, her hand coming into view of the camera. "Let me get this straight. Some guy you met once marries you and tells you he did it to protect you. Then he takes you to a property that costs a bazillion dollars, and you believe that he isn't involved in some sort of criminal underworld."

"When you put it like that, it sounds really bad," I mutter, my eyes lifting from the phone to scan over the backyard that seems more lavish than pictures I've seen of highly sought-after vacation destinations.

"At any point in this two-day hiatus, did you hit your head? Of course, it sounds bad, because it is. Give me the address and let me come get you."

My head shakes, immediately rejecting her offer.

"Are you kidding me? Kaylee, you could be in real danger."

"I'm fine. I'm safe here."

"Because he said you are? Come on. You're usually more diligent than this. Does he have a monster cock or something? Are you dickmatized?"

"Am I what? No, Morgan. We haven't even, you know... done that."

"Is he ugly?"

"Not even close. That's the damn problem."

"Hotness is not a problem," she quickly argues. "Why haven't you hooked up? What happened on your wedding night?"

I shake my head, feeling ridiculous having this conversation with her.

"We can't. We have to have the wedding annulled, and if we—"

"You can both lie, Kaylee. You can tell them the marriage wasn't consummated. It's not like several hundred years ago where they freaking check for your hymen."

I make a gagging sound, drawing another chuckle from her lips.

"You haven't because you want to," she guesses, and although I shake my head vigorously, I can't keep the smile from my lips.

"So he's hot-hot then?"

"Melt the sun hot," I confirm.

"I say go for it."

"You would," I say, hearing a noise that makes me look over my shoulder.

Seeing nothing, I turn my attention back to my phone.

"I only told you all of this because the goons at the warehouse somehow knew you were my friend, and they not so gently threatened you if I didn't comply with their rules."

"I'll be fine," she says, as if she has mob guys threatening her every other day of her life.

"This is serious," I mutter, but I feel more at ease now that she knows and can be aware to keep an eye out for trouble.

"Speaking of serious," she begins. "You better not bail on my party."

Silence fills the line because how can I even think about a party when there's so much else going on in my life right now.

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