Page 39 of Bourbon and Secrets

My cheeks heat, and it’s not from embarrassment. It’s satisfaction. It’s rather frustrating how hard I came from his fingers and the way he whispered dirty things to me.I suggest you keep quiet when you drench my fingers.I haven’t come like that in my entire life.

Maybe that was enough. The thirst was quenched. Action completed. And yet, I keep glancing at his house, hoping to see him hustle out with his hand moving through his dark hair and forgetting to take off his glasses.Jesus, what is it about a man like that in glasses?

I blow out a breath and slam my eyes shut, shaking off the thoughts, because that entire interaction was merely an unexpected consolation prize for having successfully uploaded a mirroring app that is now running in the background of his phone. I have full access to everything he has open. Lucky for me, that man hasn’t closed out a single app or web page for a single day since he bought this phone.

As I scroll through another folder of emails, I’m relieved I haven’t found anything glaringly ugly hiding on Lincoln’s phone. There’s no organization to his app folders, zero social media accounts, and plenty of open articles about the effects of seasonal highs on corn, along with periodic table element letters in formula formats that I don’t know the first thing about.

I swipe through an obscene number of photos. Lark and Lily like to steal his phone and use the photo burst feature often. There are thousands of unexpected, face-cropped selfies, pictures from softball games and horseback riding to first days of school and the randomness of a full life together. The ones that I can’t help but pause on are the selfies with the three of them crammed into the screen.

There’s no faking love like this—seeing it warms me in a way that had nothing to do with the morning sunshine. It either exists or it doesn’t. There isn't a gray area with kids. And I know that—feel it, because it isn’t something I ever had. With my mom, I did. But a dad who would smile on cue or sit and watch fashion shows or impromptu performances? That never existed for me.

The wind kicks up, and I pull the plush blanket over my lap. What I wouldn’t give to have a few minutes sitting on these porch steps with my mom. Tell her I’m mad at her or how I just wish I’d known how bad things had gotten before she thought she didn’t have another choice. Plucking out my headphones, I put on a winter hat I found stuffed into the closet of my old room, getting myself more comfortable to continue my search through Lincoln’s phone.

A high-pitched cry has me stopping just as I’m placing my headphones on. I sit quietly for a moment and wait to see if I’ll hear it again. The wind whips against the glass window panes of the farmhouse, making a familiar rattle that has a shiver running down the length of my arms and leaving goosebumps in its wake. Unnerved, I uncross my legs and stand. It could have easily been the wind bending along the house. Everything might look new inside, but the bones of this place are the same. The creak on the second step still groans, no matter where my foot falls. But if it wasn’t...

I watched Maggie leave, so it wasn’t her. Another faint yelp clips out, only this time I can pinpoint it’s coming from the newly constructed barn.

When I hear the sound again, I’m hoping it’s an animal and notsomeone. The hairs along my arms stand tall as I make my way down the porch stairs and along the gravel driveway.

With my taser tucked into my waistband at my back, I pick up a small hand shovel that sits along the planting bench outside of the barn. There’s so much more here now. This time, it’s a yelping bark that sounds as I slide open the barn door. Its well-greased track makes it the quiet entrance I was hoping for, but that doesn’t stop the two small bodies huddled right in the center of the room from turning their heads at the same time to look at me, both letting out a clipped scream.

“Shits and glitter, Faye,” Lily says, holding her hand to her chest.

Lark breathes out a relieved laugh. “You’re lucky Dad didn’t hear you just say that, Lil.”

“We’re lucky this isn’t Dad, you mean,” she snaps back.

The smell of hay and mud permeates the space. When I left, Mom had three horses. It smells like that’s still the case, but I know there aren’t any here anymore. One of the many things that Maggie changed about the place.

“Why would your dad be mad?” I follow it up with the obvious that they probably don’t even know. “Aside from hanging out with me?”

The question turns rhetorical when I step closer and look at what they’re huddled over.

“Can we keep her here?” Lily asks, lifting the puppy in her arms. Its light brown color is splashed with patches of black on her head, making her look like a little masked bandit. “Please, please, Faye?” Her words tumble over as she continues. “She was the last dog at the adoption drive. They were going to bringher back after all her friends had been taken. They shouldn’t have pet adoption drives on cold days. She’s going to associate the cold weather with being left behind. It was a form of animal cruelty if we didn’t take her home.”

What the actual hell am I supposed to say to that? “Um, well...I don’t think—” But my words cut out as I glance at Lark’s hopeful expression first, then at her little sister’s.

Lily’s eyes water as she says, “I was supposed to find her. I just know it.” She kisses her head as the puppy tries to squirm out of her hold. Her body wiggles and thrashes, and she escapes, flopping over and hustling toward my feet. Whatever kind of dog it is, she’ll be big. “She has her shots. We have food and water. She needs a little extra, so she gets a dropper of something. I already have mama instincts, see?” She pets the dog’s head as it leans into her body, knocking her off balance with a giggle.

I look at Lark, and she must know what I’m thinking, because she crosses her arms and lets out an annoyed sigh before I’ve even asked, “Why do you want to keep her here?”

“Dad says it’s a phase,” Lark says. “That we’ll move onto something else, but—” Her eyes water this time, but she catches the tears before they can trail down her cheeks.

The dog flops onto her belly and starts chewing on the laces of my boots.

“But that’s not true. She’s here now, right?” I say as she wipes the corner of her eyes.

They both look at me and wait for what I’m going to say next. And while I must be out of my mind to agree to this for a roster of reasons, I ask, “What’s her name?”

Lily stares at her sister for a beat before she says, “Kit.”

Two dayslater and nearly two hundred dollars’ worth of dog supplies, I clip the leash to Kit’s harness. With trying to puppy train to the best of my ability, planning for my next performance at Midnight Proof, and continuing surveillance on Blackstone, I’m happy to get out of the house for a bit. It feels like a reward to stretch my legs and enjoy what’s left of daylight as we walk down the sidewalk of Main Street. The wind from this morning has eased up, and the sun has been bright, keeping it warm even in the late winter afternoon.

We hadn’t worked out the details about how long I’d look after Kit. My time in Fiasco would eventually end, and then the girls would take over. If not sooner. While I hadn’t planned on staying for more than a month or so, I also hadn’t thought about where I was going. I should feel anxious about it, not knowing. I always know my next steps. But I’m not thinking past Fiasco; I can’t for some reason.

Kit lets out a bark and slows her steps, like she already knows where we’re headed.

“My roots are looking a little dark, aren’t they?” I say to her as we come to a stop in front of Teasers. I peer through the big picture window. The name of the place sounds more like a strip club than a beauty parlor, but it’s the only spot in the county where people come to get everything done from a blowout to a manicure.

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