I scoff at her, making my way into the kitchen to see if I have a can of soup in the pantry.
“Was it really that good?” I ask, because any distraction, even one with my best friend giving me too much detail about her sex life is welcomed over thinking about what happened last night. I’ll have plenty of time to let those insidious memories get into my head after she leaves.
“It was amazing. How did it go at the station?”
“It started out a little rough. The detective showed me the wrong picture. Instead of holding up the photo lineup, he showed me a picture of a severely beaten man.”
Sylvie just shrugs. “At least they didn’t kill him. I mean, I wouldn’t be upset if they did.”
“They? Who are you talking about?”
“Legend didn’t tell you? He brought you home last night and the other guys dragged that man behind the bar and beat the shit out of him.”
I check her face to see if she’s joking, but it becomes clear very quickly that she isn’t. “They beat him?”
Her eyes narrow. “Allegedly?”
I shake my head, always finding it funny when Sylvie tells me something then changes it when she thinks I’m going to go all attorney on her.
“I could be wrong. Maybe it was racoons back there getting in the trash.”
“Are they going to get into trouble?”
She shrugs. “For helping a man that fell down outside? I doubt it.”
And that right there confirms exactly what I was thinking. Fell down. That’s exactly what Detective Haden Gaffey claimed happened to that man. I’m all for abiding by the law and justice being served, but I don’t feel even the slightest amount upset that the Cerberus men defended me the way they did last night. If they get into any trouble, that’s when I’ll be upset.
“What are you thinking right now?”
That maybe I made a mistake blowing Ethan Packwood off the first time he approached me.
“I hate how muddled my head still is. Are you hungry? There are two cans of soup here in the pantry.”
“You don’t need soup. You need a night of wild and crazy sex like I had.”
“I was drugged last night. I need to sleep for two days,” I argue.
“Listen, I know all about your traumatic childhood, but great sex cures a lot of problems. The man was rabid last night, let him use some of that passion to get you off.”
“I don’t have a traumatic past where sex is concerned,” I argue. “And I work with the Cerberus men. Getting tangled up with someone on Kincaid’s team is bad for business.”
“So have professional sex,” she says, a wide grin on her face. “I have no doubt Legend could show you an amazing time. He’s a grown man. It’s not like he’s going to meet up with his buddies and compare notes.”
“I don’t know him.”
“You don’t have to know him to let him fuck you silly.”
I can’t tell her that I don’t trust him, because I do trust the man on some level. I didn’t freak out when I saw him in my house this morning. My first instinct wasn’t to throw something at his head and try to escape.
Complete trust is something I’ll never fully hand over to any man, however. I’ve seen too much growing up in foster care, and even more so in family court after becoming an attorney to give anyone that level of trust, but she does have a point. I don’t have to marry the man.
Sex with him doesn’t seem like a horrible idea after all.
Sylvie must notice my change in demeanor because all she does is squeal like a child and clap her hands, as if the decision to jump his bones has already been made and the only thing I need to do now is make an appointment with the man.
Chapter 9
Legend
Another weekend, another night of no plans. Christmas is fast approaching, and before, I’d be with Grinch at the bar picking up women who don’t want to be alone during the holidays. It sounds fucked up even in my own head, but facts are facts.
Grinch hasn’t slowed down, especially now that he has a couple more guys to hang out with, but I’ve declined every offer to join them this last week. I can’t keep my mind off Faith and what she went through last weekend. She thanked me the day after, but I haven’t heard from her since.
I stare down at the coffee cup in front of me on the kitchen table, hating the quiet in the clubhouse. Noise and other people would be just the distraction I need, and any other day that’s exactly what I’d get, but the atmosphere around here is subdued and almost stale.
I know coffee late in the afternoon probably isn’t a good thing, and I’m right back at the beginning of this vicious circle I’ve been in all week. I can’t sleep at night with the thoughts and worries about Faith, so I drink coffee to perk up. The caffeine then makes it difficult to fall asleep at night. And round and round I go.