Page 40 of Sorrow

I war with myself while I wait for him to come out about what to tell him. There’s only one store in town that sells lingerie of any kind, and it’s skeevy to say the least. It’s not a big chain store where I can pretend I need something else, nor is it any kind of upscale.

It’s just... well, gross.

“What are you dropping off?” I ask when he gets in. “That cabinet you were working on?”

“Yeah.” Rubbing his hands together, Hayes turns up the heat for us and looks me in the eyes. “What are you buying?”

Don’t flinch.

“I need to go to Pandora’s Box.”

Slowly, his face changes into a grin. “Oh yeah? Something specific in mind?”

Huh. Why did I expect him to be mad or tell me that’s not an appropriate place for me?

I’m almost a little disappointed.

“Yep. We’re almost done with training and I need to dress the part if I’m going to convince Nate to take me with him,” I saybluntly. No point sugarcoating it. “I was looking for something slutty.”

Immediately, his smile is gone like it was never there at all. “You’re not going to that place alone. I’m going in too.”

Yeah, there it is. Too little too late for it to be anything other than jealousy, though. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t remember asking you a question. Besides, don’t you want me to tell you what men like?” He steps on the gas harder than he needs to, forcing me to sit back as his jaw ticks.

Whatever men like, it clearly isn’t this.

Fine.

I stay silent until we pull into the driveway of a house belonging to one of The Founders. “This is who you built that cabinet for?” I ask. “You didn’t happen to put something explosive in a hidden compartment, did you?”

Huffing, he yanks open the door and climbs out, but to my surprise he leans back in to respond. “Maybe. Don’t get out of the car, Hurricane.”

I’m pretty sure this is Mr. Madoff’s house, and after what his son and his shitbag friends did to us, I don’t want to goanywhere near him. I’ll stay right where I’m at.

It’s so warm in his Silverado that I’m nearly asleep when he comes back out looking pissed off. I fake snore once, earning me a pinch on my thigh, then sit up straight and flip off the house as we drive away. “What happened?”

“Daddy dearest is as much of a douchebag as his son. Who’s surprised?” With a scowl that seems to be going nowhere, Hayes glances at me from the corner of his eye. “What made you decide you needed sexy clothes for that pussy?”

“Common sense,” I counter. “Why go through all this trouble if I’m not going to give myself the best possible chance of success?”

He shrugs it off. “Have you talked to him recently?”

“Not since he told me he’s scared of blood. He’s not very talkative, though I haven’t tried very hard.”

“Sounds like a fun guy,” he deadpans. “Should probably go for pinks and not reds.”

“The lingerie?” I ask. “I was leaning toward black, but why pink?”

“He seems like the type to like softer colors. Nothing wrong with that, I’m sure you’d look beautiful in light pink, but I don’t think he could handle red or black. He’d probably come in his pants and then blame you for it.”

As we stop to wait for a train, Hayes lays his head back against the seat and watches me as I stare straight ahead, probably trying to read my expression. It’s a good thing I’ve had years to master my emotions.

“You know I don’t care, right? About Nate, about any of it. I just want out.”

Maybe if I say it enough, one of us will believe it.

Something about that makes him frown, but he doesn’t look angry at me. It’s yet another thing I can’t read, and when he starts driving again, it feels like I missed my opportunity to figure it out.

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