Page 31 of Rooster

I keep my eyes on the front door, hoping Twisted doesn't speak. I don't want to be mean to the man, and I already feel like crap for flirting with him only moments ago.

"You know you're safe with us, right?" he asks, shifting in his seat so he can look in my direction.

I regret sitting behind Whiskey instead of Twisted because it gives the latter the perfect angle to watch me.

"I know," I tell him. "I didn't think it would be so hard to come back here."

"Your sanctuary has been violated. That's an awful thing to have to deal with. Had all of this happened elsewhere, it would've been bad, but it's always worse when victimization happens in the home. It's understandable for you to be upset."

I dip my head in understanding, doing my best not to give in to the sting of tears behind my eyes. I've always considered myself a strong woman. I don't cry at the drop of a hat.

"I can't believe I picked someone who would want to hurt me," I whisper, clearing my throat when it grows weaker at the end of the declaration.

"That's the whole thing, Morgan," he says, his hand pressing into the driver's side seat as if he's trying to resist reaching for me.

I appreciate the fact that he doesn't.

"You didn't pick him. He picked you and then he played the perfect part in being exactly who you were looking for at the time. You did nothing wrong."

"I can't wait for all of this to be over," I mutter, reaching for the doorknob when Whiskey walks back out on the front porch and gives us a thumbs-up.

I climb out of the SUV, not wanting to go inside but also feeling relieved not to be in the vehicle with Twisted any longer than I have to be.

I feel more than a little vulnerable, and I don't want to fall into old habits and seek comfort in a man I don't feel any real connection to just for the temporary relief it would provide.

"Ready?" he asks as he steps up beside me.

"I guess," I say, stepping toward the porch.

Thankfully, he maintains a little distance as I climb the front steps, although he bumps me slightly when I halt just inside the door without warning.

"It's so clean," I say, looking around the open floor plan home.

"We supervised a cleaning company to come in like we said," Twisted explains. "We also inventoried everything the caterers left with that night so you could go over the list and make sure you weren't missing anything."

"Thank you," I tell him. "That was very thoughtful."

"Was there anything you needed down here on the first floor?" Whiskey asks, and I can tell he wants to get this show on the road.

I shake my head, grateful that they're here to accompany me. Had I come back alone, I wouldn’t have been brave enough to step inside the front door.

"Take your time," Twisted says, and I look up just in time to see him shoot an annoyed look at Whiskey.

"I won't be long," I tell them, wanting to get out from the middle of whatever issue they seem to have with each other, but Twisted follows close behind me as I traverse the stairs to the second floor.

I chance half of a glance in the direction of the room Henry held Kaylee in, but there's no chance I'll be going in that direction today. I consider the need to sell the house and move because I don't know if I'll ever feel comfortable here again. The violation just seems too big to overcome without a fresh start.

"Whiskey just did a preliminary search," Twisted says as I reach for the doorknob to my bedroom. "We haven't checked for electronic devices."

I turn to face him, unsure what he's getting at.

"We don't know if Henry put listening devices or cameras in the house. I would advise against changing clothes or doing anything you don't want to be seen by someone else."

A rush of goosebumps races out over my arms.

"Seriously?"

He shrugs, his lips forming a flat line before he speaks. "He's a sick fuck. I wouldn't discount the possibility of anything at this point."

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