Page 31 of Clean Slade
“Don’t worry, honey. No one does. It’s this thing everyone loves to say but doesn’t actually know what it is or tastes like.”
Slade raised an eyebrow. He could raise all the eyebrows he wanted. Mac already didn’t eat fish. I didn’t need her to know that fish eggs were considered a “delicacy” because she’d never eat again.
“I don’t have champagne, and I don’t think I can afford caviar, but I’ll see what I can do.”
I had no idea what he meant, and he didn’t care to reveal his secrets as he sipped his coffee for the rest of the morning.
Just before he left for the grocery store, he stopped at the door and turned to me.
“Message your friend. He must be worried sick.”
I shook my head and used my finger to spin my phone on the kitchen surface.
“And say what? That I’m in hiding with a stranger?”
Shit. That came out ruder than I meant.
I hoped he didn’t take offense.
“Just tell him you’re okay. That’s all he needs to know,” he said, not appearing the least bit concerned by my words or tone.
My stomach did somersaults again, and I bit back a sigh.
How did he know what to say all the time? How was it possible such a man existed? Aside from the fact I hadn’t dated in a century, I’d seriously doubted such specimen were walking this planet, let alone Mayberry Holm.
He stared at me as if waiting for an answer, and since he didn’t seem willing to move on with his day until I reassured him, I did just that.
It didn’t mean I’d message Santiago back, but I’d think about it. That must count for something. Right?
When he returned, we had lunch, and Mac had a nap as we braced ourselves for the night and Slade’s surprise.
It was hard to care about the new year when my life had turned upside down.
We should be at home choosing our clothes for the evening. Santiago should be there when we went out, and I guessed his boyfriend if he had to. Mac should be sitting on pins and needles in anticipation of the big fireworks.
This isn’t where we should be.
Why couldn’t he leave us alone? Who were we hurting? I hadn’t even gone to the FBI. I hadn’t given anyone names. I’d been a good runaway, a good son, and hidden myself away, becoming as anonymous as they came. Hell, I’d even picked a silly profession no one would ever suspect from me.
Wasn’t that enough? Why did I have to pay with my life for simply wanting to live a life free of crime, money, and corrupted men?
“I think it’s ready,” Slade announced what felt like moments later, but I realized I had fallen asleep again for the gazillionth time.
It was such a surreal feeling. I didn’t nap. I never napped. I was too busy for that. But out here in the safety of the forest, where there was nothing to do but hole up with my daughter and the man I’d fucked eons ago, sleep came as easy as breathing.
I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it one bit.
Okay, maybe just a little bit.
“What’s ready?” I asked, sitting up in bed and finding Mac already awake and playing with Slade’s plushies.
I dreaded the day I’d have to break it to him that his toys belonged to her now and there was nothing he could do about it.
“You’ll see. Come on. You’ll want to put on your coats for this.”
He was being mysterious again, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit there was something wildly attractive about a caring, nurturing man who kept intrigue as part of his identity.
I got to my feet and put my shoes on, and Mac did the same. Slade went back out, closing the door behind him. The shadows on the walls of the front of the tent got bigger and more intense. But unlike the rest of the shadows that went bump in the night, scaring the bejesus out of me on more than one occasion, they looked welcoming.
