They were saved from my sarcastic answer by Jeremy pulling into the parking lot in his SUV. He parked in a spot next to us, grabbed a duffel bag from his back seat, and joined us.
“Carly and Sonya send their love. Sonya wants me to assure you they packed your bag, I didn’t, and Carly says you can stay with her until you work out housing.” Jeremy handed the bag to Megan.
I intercepted it, hefting the weight on my shoulder.
She gave Jeremy a quick hug. “Thank you.”
He looked at Landon, brows raised. “I find you in the oddest places.”
“Not that odd this time. I worked here until about five minutes ago.”
Jeremy shook his head. “Do I want any details at all?”
Considering that even though he was forty, and Megan was only a year younger, he still liked to pretend his baby sister was a sweet, innocent virgin, I doubted it. “Not really. No one got arrested, fucked, or killed.”
“And I’m going to assume that’s all a complicated metaphor and there’s no reason to assume any of those things would’ve literally happened,” Jeremy said.
“You’re the one who gets paid for the implausible scenarios he imagines, so assume what you will.” Megan’s voice was almost teasing.
That seemed like a good sign.
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Call someone if you need anything. We’re all worried about you.”
“Thank you.” Megan’s tone softened. “Again.”
Jeremy pointed at me. “Treat her the way I would.”
Not likely. I gave him a smile anyway.
“And… nice seeing you again,” he said to Landon. With a little more conversation, Jeremy was gone.
The brief exchange was pleasant, but it didn’t calm me. My adrenaline was still racing from, well, the entire day. Resisting the urge to slice Easton to ribbons this morning, mostly so I wouldn’t be arrested, resisting Megan, and then being punched by a big brute of a guy I wasn’t sure if I should fuck, kill, or go for beers with.
“Forgive my assumption, but you seem like you’re avoiding going wherever it was you needed, in order to grab that stuff yourself.” Landon nodded at the bag slung over my shoulder. “I don’t live far away. Do you want to come back to my place and change out of that…dress?”
Megan opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.
If she told himyesit meant the day lasted longer. I wanted the day to last longer. “It’d be a lot more convenient than a gas station bathroom.”
“It’s not a problem. My afternoon is unexpectedly free. Besides, that bag might fit better in my back seat than on the bike,” Landon said.
I could make it work in the saddlebags, but it would be easier not to.
Megan clenched her skirts and shifted the fabric, fiddling for a moment. “Changing someplace that I don’t have to wonder why the walls are yellow sounds nice.”
“Follow me.” Landon held out his hand, and I gave him the bag Jeremy had just delivered.
Megan and I climbed back on my bike, and followed a battered old pickup down some side streets, never getting up above thirty. A few minutes later, we parked on the street in front of a block of four doors. There was no real yard to the fourplex, just a wide swath of asphalt surrounded by battered concrete. The building itself was cinderblock and painted primer gray.
I would’ve loved a place like this growing up—because it would’ve meant a fixed home. I had nothing but respect for the tenants, and complete disdain for whatever slumlord was profiting off keeping them in shitty dwellings.
Inside, Landon’s apartment was decorated like it had come straight out of the 70’s, from the flowered couch to the orange shag that had probably looked grimy when it was new, to the cabinet sized TV running along one wall.
The recliner by the window that had a mannequin sitting in it was creepy and fantastic. The training dummy in the corner, the kind that was just a torso and head and made for punching, was the one thing that was out of place in the room.
“The bedroom is over there. Take as long as you need to change.” Landon gestured toward one of two doors in the place. The other seemed to lead to the bathroom.
“Do you need help with your buttons?” I asked.