The atmosphere in the room turns serious and I realize I'm metaphorically standing at a crossroads. I can lie, even though it seems as if Crispin already knows the truth, or I can be honest and face the consequences of our actions. First, I consider blaming it on Katy, but in reality, even though I may not have known all of her plan, I still went along with it.With a deep breath and a heavy sigh, I let the contents of the evening out in one big, long run-on sentence. "Katy came and picked me up, we dressed in all black, and then we snuck around to Frankie's house, but he caught us outside the second window before Katy could see anything good." I take a breath and keep going. "And then he invited us inside and his maid — or cook, he never said — made us the most amazing spaghetti with chicken and cheese all cooked together. Delicious. I would have loved the recipe but didn't want to ask."I suck in another large breath, two of them this time, getting ready to finish the story. "And
"It's the master bath," I yell as he walks down the hallway. My words have him changing direction and he continues on to my brother's room like he's been here a hundred times before and lets himself into the bathroom. Tucked in the corner is the shower sprayer I've been too scared to look at the last two days.Crispin wastes no time getting into the shower and inspecting the head. He takes off his shoes and steps in leaving them on the little rug with his socks. He closes the shower door and then turns on the spray, letting the water hit the wall and eyeing the leak where large rivers of water flow from the base of the shower head."Hmmm," he says, washing his hands in the water's spray. "You just unscrewed it a little. With the water off, he twists the head in the opposite direction."You think you'll be able to fix it?" I ask when he steps back, looking at the shower head like it's finished even though he didn't test it.He looks to me and steps out of the way, bracing himsel
"You seem much more prepared for today's run," I shout across the road as Crispin jogs to my side of the street. "You look hot."His black running pants are skin tight, cupping his ass the perfect amount. The light blue running shirt clings to his chest, accenting his pecks."Don't give me crap now. We haven't even started running yet.""No, I mean it. Your outfit does you justice." I lazily trail my eyes up and down his body, making sure I get a long gaze, and then lean to the side to see from a fresh angle. I must keep the image for easy recall later.Crispin chuckles, finally catching on to what I'm saying. "I say, Miss Donovan, are you objectifying me?""Maybe."Crispin breaks out into a bigger grin. "I like it."I set my attention to fiddling with my watch, starting the run app so I can time how far we go. Halfway through the process, Crispin bends over and I lean back, checking out his ass one more time. Still amazing. I wasn't lying when I said he looked hot. Skint
Thank the heavens above, my phone beeps letting me know it's time for a cool down, and even though I want to roll over and die in the random person's grass next to us I refuse. Half a mile cooldown I can do. My steps slow, faster than normal for a regular cooldown, but these are desperate times."When your phone went off, it flashed a picture of a dog." Crispin taps on my phone reminding me of our conversation, which I'd forgotten in my excitement over surviving. Why did I pick running? Oh right, the health benefits even though I almost die every time.With my breathing coming back to regular, I undo the Velcro strap on the armband and slip my phone from the top. With another silent prayer to God as a thank you for fingerprint unlocking, I check my messages and find three from my ex Ben.The jerk.He's taken Hush, my damn dog, to one of our favorite cafes where they allow dogs on leashes as long as you sit outside on the patio. Hush sits in the chair across from him with a dog
When you run at night, it's still humid and you have all day to think about your stupid decisions. To talk yourself out of the run and remind your brain how awful exercise is. That means by the time I've taken the first step off the front porch I'm already miserable. Night runs are the worst.Especially when I had such an amazing day. After being in Pelican Bay for two months, I feel as if I'm settling in. And it's all thanks to Crispin. If not for him I never would have met the ladies who work at the bakery. I wouldn't spend my entire day set up in the shop gossiping about Tabitha's upcoming wedding or learning words of wisdom from Pearl as she sips away at her herbal tea and munches on a chocolate cupcake. Her husband picked her up around noon before the lunch rush and then I got behind the counter and helped clean up, carrying cups and plates. I wiped down tables and swept the floor. It was fun to get out of the house and see other people, even for my self-declared hermit lifestyl
"Hey!" I scream, pounding my fist against the metal and making a ruckus. "Let me out!"The van picks up its pace and I struggle to stay up on my knees without being tossed around, even though I hit a wall each time we take a corner. My stomach rolls from being in the back of the empty van with nothing here except a roll of carpeting, the green indoor/outdoor stuff you use on porches and patios. I see no tools or anything to help me escape. They haven't even left me a gun from what I can tell as I search around in the dark, my hands coming back empty.The van stops much too soon as I haven't come up with an escape plan by the time they open the door again. My first thought to run is waylaid when Tank points a gun through the open door. If he was a savior, it would be a wonderful scene, the darkness broken through with the opening and the light highlighting his face with a halo behind him. But he's not here to save me and the scene is one of horror rather than grace."I'm not getti
Tight Lips holds the device further from his ear this time and with the raised volume it's easier to hear."Your boss is a fucking...," Frankie starts in and then I miss what he says, but I can't imagine its kind words. "... End up dead. Take her home now and hope you don't see me."Tight Lips shakes his head. "Not until the boss calls."Frankie screams, his voice unrecognizable unlike when he spoke so softly to me a moment earlier. "Fuck your boss. You're only in this town because it benefits me..."He cuts out again, his words softer so I can't hear and that leaves me questioning how these two benefit Frankie. How does the mysterious man who lives in a mansion and everyone in town knows is up to no good get away with it for so long? Is it possible he has somebody else doing his dirty work? That seems like the smartest way to run a criminal empire. Not that I'd know.I walked right into his house that night and practically told him I was with Crispin. Who else knows and woul
We all stand, shocked. Quiet for a moment. The out-of-place intrusion takes over from the fear gripping me and leads to something more like puzzlement. I see her hair and the top of her head as if she's crouched down in Crispin's truck. "You brought Katy?" What was he thinking?Crispin closes his eyes in a slow blink and sighs. "Don't ask.""Listen, we don't want any trouble, but we're walking out of this alive. You can have her back once we're in the van."Crispin's eyes narrow. "And why would I trust you?" It's a legit question.Before he answers, a shot rings out, the bullet whizzing past my ears. I scream, jerking away from Tank, but it only forces him to push his finger deeper into my injury. He smiles at Crispin with a dark and dangerous look."You missed!" he yells, spit flying from his mouth.Crispin, unfazed, smirks as if the two of them are playing a game and he moved his chess piece into checkmate position. "Did I?" he asks with a flick of his chin motioning behi