Page 32 of Out of Control

“Not that it’s any of your business, but he didn’t ask when I’d get home. He asked when I’d be relaxing again. I going to take a calming shower first. You got me up too early this morning. So I’m going to get soaking wet in a long, hot shower and be ready for a chat with family after a full half hour.”

Blake pulled up to my house, putting the car in park before he did that slow perusal thing that confident men do, eyes drifting down and slowly climbing back up my body, taking me inlimb by limb when I spoke of getting wet—in the shower, that is—and figured he was distracted enough to let go of my poor improv skills.

“What do women like you do in a shower for so long?”

Wash loads of hair, exfoliate, shave various body parts. “What can I say? If I’m already getting wet, I like to be very thorough and finish offeverythingwhen I’m in the shower.”

While he had more self control than to physically drop his jaw, it still took him enough time to recover for me to hop out of the car and make my way up to the front porch.

“Can I come in with you?” he asked, hurrying out after me up to the porch.

“No, I’m going to be naked, you perv.”

“Not into the bathroom with you, but just inside your home. I want to check everything out for you.”

“You want to check me out more. No.” Maybe also check out my home for whatever he deemed was suspicious. I wanted to roll my eyes. I wasn’t the bad guy here, no matter how much he wanted to believe I was.

“It’s for your safety.”

“No, it’s for your peace of mind. My house is just fine.”

“Can I plug in my phone at least?”

“Do it in the backyard. There should be an outlet back there, and you’ll get a change of scenery from staring at my front curtains.”

And with that I slammed the door in his face. Sliding the rickety chain across the door, I felt a devilish glee. Lucas Blake was going to regret his pushiness soon enough.

thirteen

Lucas

Damn that woman. She was so stubborn she was going to end up getting herself killed just because she didn’t want me to help her.

And I needed to help her. Not just because I needed to see the light at the end of the tunnel on this case, but because she really wasn’t a bad person. She was annoying as all shit, but spending time with Mom this morning showed me just how much compassion she had in her.

Maybe everything really was just a coincidence. Maybe she really wasn’t into anything shady. Maybe Leo Lombardi just decided to take matters into his own hands after a shitty date because he was a shitty person.

I began a circle around the house, keeping an eye out along the base for the promised outlet. There. It was near the back door, scarily close to the hose bib. Was Athena trying to electrocute me, or was that a coincidence, too?

I leaned closer, feeling at the spout, but it was dry as a bone. No visible water leaks to mess with the outlet.

I grabbed my charging cord from my pocket, plugging it into the wall before connecting my phone to the loose end. I glanced around, seeing a couple patio chairs and a small table a few feet away. I hauled one of the wooden Adirondacks over, but a flash of a floral curtain in an upstairs window caught my attention as I turned back around with the little table.

Was that Athena or was someone else in her home?

I gently set the table down to the side, inching forward while my hand went to my gun. I didn’t take it out of the holster yet, but I wanted to be prepared. I glanced at her back door; there was a regular doorknob and but the deadbolt looked brand new, unlike what I’d seen on her front door. If the deadbolt was engaged, I wouldn’t be able to get in through that door.

I glanced back up. The curtain of that upstairs window stayed open a couple inches and someone was definitely moving around up there, but I still couldn’t be sure who it was. Surely Athena would have noticed an intruder and screamed by now if she was in danger. Right?

I glanced back down, noting the windows framing the door, a little higher up than strictly necessary; I was probably facing the kitchen, the windows raised higher over the countertops. I could use one of the lawn chairs to climb up to one of those windows and break the glass if Athena was in trouble.

But then I saw her face in the upstairs window.

I let out a sigh of relief, holstering the gun again. She said she would be taking a shower, so that room was probably her bedroom or upstairs bathroom.

I frozeat that realization. Was she getting ready to get in the shower up there?

The gentleman my mother raised warned me to look away, but the professional in me worried about her being so exposed—and not in a naked way. If I could see her here, so could a sniper. I glanced around the yard, but nothing seemed out of place. I couldn’t see any neighbors looking over the fence or through their windows.

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