Page 23 of Tempt Her

He bites his sandwich, talking with his mouth full. “I run five miles every morning on an empty stomach. And at night, when I get home, I run ten more wearing a thirty-five-pound rucksack. Ford works with me in his gym and gives me tests too.”

“His gym?”

“Yeah, he’s got all kinds of buildings on his property, some for the business, but one’s a gym.”

“You live with him?”

“Sorta.” He shrugs. “I got one of those tiny houses on his land. So does Mateo.”

Is it odd or endearing how close these men are? More than co-workers, they live and hang out together. “What do you mean Ford gives you tests?” It almost sounds controlling, like Ford is exploiting them.

“A day without sleep. A day without food and then a spelling or math test.”

Luke confirms my sickening suspicion.

“Luke,” I almost whisper, “that sounds like abuse.”

I hear the words out of my mouth and taste their hypocrisy.

I’m abused; I know it. Verbally and emotionally, yes. But what’s controlling me is the “economic abuse.” I know the term because I looked it up one day on a computer at Best Buy since Gentry monitors every page I search on my devices.

But Luke laughs away my concern. “It’s not abuse. IaskFord to do it. It’s part of what the Army will put me through, and it prepares me for them.”

“How does Ford know what to do?”

I don’t care how pussy-wetting that man is; Ford’s a dick.

Hang on; dicks wet my pussy, so… Ford’s a turd. He hasn’t returned since he mocked me with innuendo like I was a dumb little game he won.

“He was a Ranger too. That’s how we met. He served under my mom, heard about my dad, and reached out to me during my senior year in high school.” A look coasts across his eyes. “Ford means a lot to me.”

I assume, “Like a dad?”

“No,nota dad.” He drops his eyes and pauses, tapping the Apple watch on his wrist. “Shit, I gotta get that parlor done today.” Peering up at me, concern bends his eyes. “Is Mr. Evans gonna be home? Is it okay if I prep his office next?”

“Nothing is ever okay with Mr. Evans, so you might as well get it over with.” I hold his stare. “And be careful… you’re being watched in some places.”

Nodding, he slowly rises and collects our trash before putting it in the bag. Silently, we walk back inside, and he gets to work while I suddenly feel a new unease.

Only one person lately gives me hope, so I step back outside to call her.

“Hey,” Sergeant Cade Bryant answers, and I’m surprised it’s so quickly.

“Hey, it’s Stacey,”—I roll my eyes at why I say this out of habit— “Gentry’s wife. You gave me your number the other day at the salon.”

“Yeah, I remember,” she replies. “How are you?”

How? Am? I?

Trapped in a marriage with an abusive man who threatens my dad’s healthcare. Tempted, because of it, to squirt a gallon of Visine in his Arnold Palmer iced teas and poison him to death. Apathetic, because I know he fucks people on the side. And furious because I’m fucked too, but not in a good way. Other than that….

“I’m peachy. How about you? Got big Christmas plans?”

Cade’s quiet before her voice softens. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I got your back. I promise.”

What the hell?Ms. Carver? Luke? And now Cade? Why are random people being so kind to me all of a sudden?

“Thank you,” I find myself repeating it today. “I, uh, just wanted to make sure that you and Mr. Van de May, I mean, you andSilas,received your invitations to our New Year’s Eve Party.”

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