Page 40 of Rome
AMELIA: You should probably also be thankful she didn’t ask for my advice, because I’d tell her to pack ALL of your things, and then light the shit on fire in the front yard.
I snorted at that. Lia was pissed at me, and I didn’t blame her one bit. Of course, when Abby did have time to think, she might very well decide to have a bonfire with my shit all on her own.
Sinner ordered a pizza, and I managed to choke down one piece. He put on a Clint Eastwood movie from a few decades ago, but I tuned it out. I stared mindlessly at the TV screen as images of Abby flashed through my mind.
“Go ahead, make my day,” Sinner quoted along with the movie, and the sound of his voice brought me out of my thoughts.
“I’m gonna take a shower and hit the sack. I’m not sure I’ll get any sleep, but I need to try.”
“I’ll get that toothbrush for you. I’ll grab a spare T-shirt for you, too. You’ll have to go commando tomorrow, I guess, because I ain’t sharing my boxers with you.” That got a laugh out of me.
A half hour later, I was settled into the bed in the spare bedroom, after having scrubbed myself raw in the shower. I knew it was crazy, but I could still feel that woman’s hands on my chest and her mouth on my dick, and I just couldn’t get that feeling washed away. I’d scowled at myself in the bathroom mirror when I’d caught sight of that fucking hickey. I couldn’t stand to look at the damned thing and made a mental note to stop at the drugstore tomorrow to buy some of that concealer shit that I’d seen Abby use sometimes.
I flipped through the unread messages on my phone from Lucky, Trick, and King, all checking on me and worried as hell about Abby. I typed back a simple message to all three.
ME: Abby asked me to leave, so I’m at Sinner’s for tonight at least. Amelia is with her, and is keeping an eye on her BP.
There was a text from Molly, with a picture attached of Ethan and Jagger standing in front of one of the huge dinosaur skeletons in the Dinosphere exhibit. I actually chuckled at the sight of those two, doing their best dinosaur impersonation. Once Jag was speaking to me again, I was gonna give him all kinds of shit about posing with itty-bitty T-rex arms and a stupid-ass expression on his face that was probably meant to be ferocious, but only managed to look as if he’d just caught his ball sac in his zipper.
ME: I love the pic. Thanks for sending it. I’m sure E’s asleep by now, so tell him I love him when he wakes up in the morning. Have him call me if you can. Thanks for keeping him tonight. Abby’s doing OK now, but she was hysterical earlier. It would have been a fucking mess if he’d been there.
She responded almost immediately.
MOLLY: I’ve been texting with Amelia, and Ethan spoke to Abby for a few minutes before he went to bed. He didn’t seem to realize anything was wrong. How’s your face?
ME: Sore. Your fiancé has a mean right hook.
MOLLY: I think he feels bad about punching you.
ME: He shouldn’t. I deserve an ass-kicking for what I did, so he let me off easy.
MOLLY: Try to get some rest, Rome. I think you and Abby will be able to work this out. I know how much you love each other.
ME: I just hope that’s enough. At the moment, she doesn’t want me near her, and I can’t blame her. Goodnight, and tell Jag I said he makes a stupid-looking T-Rex.
She sent several laughing-face emojis in return, and I smiled into the dark as I slipped my phone onto the bedside table. Luckily, Sinner had an extra charger I could use, so at least my phone wouldn’t be dead in the morning. I wanted to be sure Abby could reach me if she wanted to.
I tossed and turned for hours, but finally managed to fall asleep sometime after three o’clock. My phone rang a little after eight, and I saw Jagger’s name flash on the screen. I answered to find that it was Ethan calling. He spent the next ten minutes telling me all about the dinosaur exhibits. We’ve seen them at least ten damned times, but he loves them anyway. He ended the call after telling me that Uncle Jag was taking him out for breakfast, and then to the indoor trampoline park. I would owe my twin big time for that one.
I texted Lia to check on Abby and tried not to freak out too damned much over the response.
AMELIA: She slept like shit and looks like hell this morning. Her BP is a little high, but it’s better than it was last night when she went to bed. She said she’s been having more Braxton-Hicks contractions, so I’m trying to make sure she’s staying hydrated. She still wants you to pick up the bag I packed this morning. I’ll let you know when she’s ready to talk.
I borrowed Sinner’s truck and drove to our house, and sure enough, there was a fucking suitcase on the front porch. As I approached the porch, I saw a note taped to the door. It wasn’t Abby’s handwriting, so I assumed it must be Amelia’s.
“Don’t even think about trying to see her right now. If you try to open this door, or even ring the doorbell, I’ll kick you so hard you’ll be choking on your balls for a week.”
Well, that was pretty fucking clear. I pulled the note off the door and shoved it in my pocket. After I tossed the suitcase in the back of the truck, I drove back to Sinner’s house.
He wasn’t home when I got there, but I used my key to let myself in. I tossed the suitcase on the bed I’d used last night. I opened it, finding my cut neatly folded on top of the clothes, with my leather toiletry bag tucked into the corner underneath a pair of blue jeans. I slipped my cut on and spent a few minutes unpacking my things. I did take the time to put on a pair of my boxer briefs under my jeans. Going commando chafed the hell out of my dick, and I really didn’t need to be dealing with that on top of everything else. I headed to the tattoo shop for the day, leaving a note for Sinner that I wouldn’t be back until late.
I stopped at a drugstore first, then spent ten fucking minutes trying to figure out what the hell I needed to cover up the hickey. I finally zeroed in on the selection of concealers, only to be confronted with over a dozen different tubes in various shades. I grabbed the one that looked like it would match my skin the closest, paid for that shit and then got the hell out of there.
The clinic was my next stop, where I requested to be tested for every damned STI known to man. The woman behind the counter told me they could run a full STI panel, and I saw her glance at my wedding ring as I handed over my card for payment. I used to get tested every few months, back before Abby, and I’d never thought anything about it. Now, I felt like a piece of fucking trash signing in at that desk, with everybody knowing I was probably there because I was an asshole who cheated on his wife.
The tech that took my blood and urine samples told me I would have the results in three days, but that I would need to retest in three months, because my possible exposure was so recent that an infection may not be detectable yet. That was not the news I wanted to hear, but I knew it wasn’t his fault.
I wasn’t stupid, so I knew Abby wouldn’t let me touch her anytime soon anyway, and if by some fucking miracle she did, I would just have to use a condom.
