He does as I say, and once the plastic band is tightened, I boop his nose. “Road trip!”
It’s a three-hour drive to the jail, and once he’s booked, I head home. Finally.
When I walk in the front door, I notice no one’s here. Maddie must still be at school, and Sophie and Mason most likely haven’t left work yet. I ate on the way home, so I hop in the shower as soon as I get upstairs.
Wrapping a towel around my waist, I step out onto the bathmat and jump at the figure in front of me.
“Jesus, Soph.” My heart nearly stopped, but I don’t tell her that. I could’ve sworn I locked the door.
“Hey, roomie. How was your trip?” she asks, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
“Is there a reason you’re in here? I’m basically naked,” I say, tightening my towel.
Sophie rolls her eyes, then steps closer. “You don’t seem to mind when you walk around the house half-naked, so why is now any different? And relax, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”
The corner of my lip curls. “Excuse me, Peeping Tom?” I grab my deodorant and hair gel. “Gonna tell me why we’re hanging out in the bathroom?”
“Well, I wanted to catch you before you ran off again.”
I glance over at her. “Okay, I’m here. What’s up?”
“Where did you really go?” She eyes me suspiciously.
“I was on a job. Three hours south. Why?” I ask, grabbing my toothbrush to start brushing.
“You weren’t in Vegas?” Her question causes my heart to race. I don’t like where this conversation is going. Sophie might be one of my best friends, but I’m not comfortable talking about this with her—or anyone.
I’ve been avoiding JJ for over a month. He sent me a text on Easter a couple of weeks ago, and I ignored it even though his threats are getting progressively worse. I can’t pay him and refuse to show myself to his mobster father unless I have the money.
“No,” I tell her honestly. “Why would you think that?” I spit and rinse, waiting for an answer.
“I found something a while ago and wasn’t sure how to ask you about it, but…” She avoids making eye contact and chews on her lips as if she’s contemplating her words. Eventually, her gaze meets mine. “I’m concerned about you.”
Straightening my stance, I search her face. “What are you talking about, Soph?”
She pulls something out of her back pocket, a chip I recognize, and a piece of paper. “These were in your jeans pocket when I was doing laundry, and when I showed Mason, he had no idea what it was about either. So I decided to drop it, but lately…” Sophie lingers when I grab them from her hand.
“What’s this?” I unfold it and realize it’s a receipt for sixteen grand I’d won months ago. My jaw tenses, and I’m pissed she found this. This will undoubtedly raise more questions, but I don’t have any answers for her.
“I wouldn’t have brought it up, Liam, but you’ve been different the past couple of months, and if you’re struggling with a gambling addiction, I want to help.”
My eyes snap to hers, and my chest tightens at the way she’s looking at me. “Soph, I’m fine. You’re worrying for nothing.”
She slumps her shoulders. “Sixteen thousand dollars is a lot of money. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
I fist the receipt, crumpling it in my palm, and shrug. “It wasn’t a big deal, I guess. Decided to stop after a job and won a few rounds of blackjack.” I toss the chip on the counter.
“Then explain why you’ve been traveling more for your job recently? You fidget as though you’re anxious to get another fix.”
I narrow my eyes at her, wondering if she’s being serious right now. “Another fix?”
“You know, a gambling fix. I’m sure lotto tickets and dollar scratchers aren’t enough for a true addict.”
“I’m not a fuckin’ addict, Soph. Not that it’s any of your business or anyone else’s, for that matter, but I took the money and invested it, okay? My job doesn’t exactly have health insurance and 401K benefits. I opened a financial account to start saving money.”
I fucking hate that I’m lying to her right now, but I have no choice. Protecting her and Maddie are my top priorities, and I refuse to drag them through my bullshit.
“Oh,” she says softly, and I feel bad because she looks embarrassed.
“Now…” I smirk, hoping to change the subject and lighten the mood. “Can I get dressed before Mason finds us like this and tries to kick my ass?”
She perks a brow up at the word tries, though we both know he’d never win against me. Not that I’d ever want to fight him.
Once she leaves, I get dressed, then go downstairs to grab a drink. Loud moans echoing from the kitchen have my feet glued to the living room floor.