Page 53 of The County Line
“Fuck, Colt,” she mutters, rolling her lips under her teeth and shaking her head. Her cheeks pink up as she runs her fingers through her mussed hair then straightens out her uniform and finally turns toward the door to leave.
“I’ll be seeing you soon,” I call over my shoulder and give her a quick swat on the ass while she tries to escape.
The moment the door clicks shut, I throw my head back and laugh—a sound that feels foreign, raw,alive.For the first time in four years, I’m feeling something real. Joy. And curiosity. A wild, consuming curiosity about all the different ways Molly can come. About all the things I’d like to do with her while I find myself.
The taste of her lingers on my tongue, sweet and intoxicating. I press my lips together, savoring it for a moment longer before I shift, adjusting myself enough to be presentable. Heading out to my truck, I already know how this night’s going to end—a bottle of lube, a head full of memories, and a desperate need to take the edge off until my best friend comes around.
Chapter 24 – Molly
“You can’t be serious?”?? I demand.
“I’m sorry, Molly,” my landlord responds.
Meanwhile, I want to scream.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
“There’s a motel in town that you can check into, assuming that they have availability,” my landlord offers with an indifferent shrug. “And, of course, if you have any family nearby, you might consider staying with them until the fumigation is complete.”
“Are you kidding me?” I snap, my voice rising to a level I normally wouldn’t take. “I have to shell out my own money for a motel because myneighborsbrought bed bugs back from some sketchy hotel in Kansas?”
He shrugs again, like this is somehow myproblem and not his. Meanwhile, the duplex I live in—hisproperty—is crawling with tiny bugs I didn’t have anything to do with. I fold my arms tightly across my chest as my skin starts to itch on instinct,the phantom sensation of bugs crawling on me is making it impossible to stand still and now I’m spiraling.
All my clothes, my belongings—my life—are locked behind that large green door, the one that Regan and I painted together just six weeks ago when I first moved in. Now it’s April, still way too cold for me to even consider sleeping in my car tonight, and I don’t know how long this mess will take to fix.
Honestly, I’m not even sure I want to go back into that house once they say it’s clear. The thought of it makes my stomach churn.
My childhood home in the trailer park had bed bugs once when I was growing up and it was a nightmare my father refused to deal with until Maverick and I were called into the principal’s office at school because of the bite marks that covered our skin for weeks. He punished us for not covering the marks up better by making us sleep without a blanket during the coldest time of the winter. It was a lesson we both learned to never repeat.
“How long is this going to take, and what’s the process?” I ask, trying to keep the panic from leaking into my voice. If I know the plan, maybe I’ll feel a little better.
“We’ve hired a pest control company,” he explains, as if that will somehow calm me down. “They’ll start with a steam treatment and then apply an insecticide. From what we can tell, the infestation is mostly localized to your neighbor’s unit, but we can’t take any chances of it spreading. You won’t be allowed inside until we’re certain your unit is also clear. The company will enter in full protective gear, apply the treatments, vacuum, inspect every surface, and report back on the extent of the problem. The whole process will take about three weeks.”
“Three weeks?” I shriek because I know I can’t afford to pay for a motel for that long. I just started my new job and though I’vebeen trying to save as much as possible from my paychecks, I don’t have three weeks’ worth of motel money to shell out and I damn sure don’t want to use my ten thousand dollar bonus for a problem I didn’t cause.
My jaw tightens as I glare at him, trying to process what my life is going to look like for the next twenty-one days.
He nods grimly, finally looking a little remorseful. “Sorry.” And then he walks off, leaving me with more problems than I thought were possible. And that’s saying a lot coming from a woman who’s had her share of issues in just twenty-eight years of life.
Dammit.
I look down at my police uniform, there’s a large coffee stain on the shirt. My dark black hair is down and loose on my shoulders because my hair tie broke when I was trying to pull it up today, and I’m sure I smell like sweat and death. I feel disgusting and I have nowhere to go to take a shower or sleep.
Stay with your family.
I scoff thinking about him making that suggestion like it’s an easy and available option. The only people who’ve ever felt like family are the Marshalls and I can’t exactly call Colt, the man who fingered me two days ago, cracked open my heart and wrecked me to pieces as I came apart in his hands.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him, the massive bulge in his pants, the tattooed knuckles I watched slide in and out of me while he swallowed my moans and made me come. And all the things I should have said and done differently in that moment.
I pull out my phone anyways, swallowing my pride and hoping that he’s down by the creek working on his house and not within earshot of the conversation I have to have. “Hey Regan.”
“Hey Molly! Is everything ok?” her cheerful voice comes through the phone. I check the time, noting that it’s already seven o’clock in the evening.
“Yes, well no, not really. Guess my new neighbors aren’t just recluses who keep to their selves. Apparently, they like to travel all around the country and happened to bring a case of bed bugs home with them from Kansas.”
“Shut up!”
“Yeah, my luck couldn’t be worse. I’m banished from my unit for what sounds like will be three weeks if they determine the bugs have made their way next door. Could be less though, I’m hoping it’s mostly contained on their side.”
