Page 46 of Bound By Them
“I have somewhere else.” His voice is a low rumble.
Ten minutes later, we’re pulling up to a dingy apartment complex in the Bellefleur. Troy drives us to a parking lot behind it, which is full of cars that have seen much better days.
“What are we doing here?” I ask.
His mouth twists in an almost-smile. “This is my place.”
“I thought—that apartment with Edmund?—”
“That’s his place. I just sleep there because I work for the Laytons.”
“Ah. Gotcha.” But I don’t, not really. Edmund’s apartment is nice—one of the nicest apartments I’ve ever been inside. And this place is just…
“I know it’s shitty.” Troy watches my silent evaluation. “I just needed a few square feet to call my own. I haven’t been here in months.”
Now I’m curious. And I understand the desire to have my own space. I’ve been dreaming of moving out of my shared rental for years. “I’m grateful you have the place. Should we go in?”
“Yeah.”
The handle on the building’s back door is broken. Someone propped it open with a cinder block. Troy leads the way up a flight of stairs to the second floor. He unlocks a door and swings it open.
Stale air greets us, but no bad smells otherwise. I step in after him, looking around at the spartan set-up. It’s a single room with a bed. A kitchenette is off to one side, and another door leads to a separate bathroom. The carpet is a flat gray, mashed down from years of tenants, and the walls are a generic, dandruff-white.
“This is it.” He shrugs. “Cheapest place I could find. Sheets are clean, if you want to sleep.”
I pause at the foot of the bed. “Only if you’re sleeping with me.”
“Of course, little girl.” His voice is gruff.
I slide off my jeans and take off my shirt and bra. Troy shrugs off his shirt. Wordlessly, I reach for it and he passes it over. I pull it on, inhaling his spicy, clean scent. This is how comfort and safety feel, right here. Troy’s shirt, warm from his body, soft against my bare skin.
I pull back the comforter. It, and the sheets, are a no-nonsense navy blue. Troy shuts off the light and we climb into bed.
Flickering lights from a nearby bar’s sign blink in the window. I gesture to it. “That doesn’t annoy you?”
“I’ve never slept here before.” He chuckles and tugs me toward him so I’m resting my head on his chest. His deep breaths move my head up and down. I feel like a baby being rocked to sleep.
Before I completely lose consciousness, there’s something important I have to tell him.
“I can’t see you after tonight.” I touch his face and lift my head so I can stare into his dark, dark eyes. “The Laytons are dangerous for me, and you and Edmund need to leave me alone.”
He doesn’t blink. “I can’t promise you that, little girl.”
Annoyed and comforted at the same time, I rest my head against his chest, and sleep.
Edmund
I clench my phone in my hand while Caleb and I monitor the last stack of pallets sliding into place. Inside the warehouse, the whiskey will wait for distribution. The pallet truck gives out a series of shrill beeps as the driver backs it up before zooming away.
My phone screen is blank. Where the fuck are they? I’ve been texting Troy—and Danica—for the past eight hours. No response.
They’re probably fucking, and I can’t believe I’m pissed about it, but I am.
I’ve been stuck here for hours. But now the shipment is in, the pallets of whiskey pristine and untouched. About fucking time.
Caleb and I leave the warehouse. In the faint orange-light of the parking lot, I watch Caleb slide the large door shut.
He points to the two security guards standing on either side of the door, then jams his hands into his pockets. “Happy?”
