Page 58 of Flint
Best save it for when we get back. I’m still of two minds about how he will react. I think he will be happy, but then again, maybe he’s one of those men who has in his mind to be child-free.
We go to our room and cuddle on the bed. I sketch while Flint sits with his arm around me. He’s enthralled with watching my charcoal move over the page.
“That’s some kind of magic you’ve got there, sweetness,” he murmurs. “Sketching really helps you relax, doesn’t it?”
I nod without looking up from the face I’m shading. “Being able to finally put a name to the face I’ve been sketching and seeing in my nightmares makes it feel so much more real.”
He leans over to kiss the side of my head. “That’s one reason why I’m not bringing it up again. I know you need a break from talking about it.”
“Do you think he’s still alive?” I ask timidly.
“What? Of course he is. He’s not only alive, but we’re gonna find him.”
My hands keep moving over the paper, sketching, smudging, and erasing, carefully crafting the image that’s still stuck in my mind.
I’m excited, terrified, and dreading tomorrow. But I’m going to go anyway because if I were in Daniel’s place, I would want someone to show up for me.
Chapter 19
Flint
Our alarm goes off at five. I ease myself away from my still-sleeping old lady. If I’m being honest, I’m still upset about her insisting upon going with us. I’m not stupid. I fully understand her reasoning and even agree with it on some level. That doesn’t mean I have to fuckin’ like it. I have a bad gut feeling about this whole situation, and it’s making me regret agreeing to it.
She shifts in her sleep, and I decide to give her a few more moments. Looking down at her, she looks too damn young. Too sweet and innocent for this world.
My phone buzzes, and when I pick it up, I see a message that’s been a long time comin’.
Tommy: How’s it swinging asshole?
I text him back.
Me: You’re back.
Tommy: And I found out that you put my little sister in your fuckin’ property cut.
Shit. I knew it was coming but thought I’d have time to get my story straight.
Me: Yeah, about that. I was gonna tell you, brother.
Tommy: Don’t even try to justify it, you fuckin’ traitor.
Me: Look, we need to talk about this.
Tommy: Oh, we’re gonna fuckin’ talk alright. I’m fifteen minutes out.
Fuck.
When the screen goes dark, I toss my phone aside and haul my ass out of bed. I run my hands through my hair, thinking this couldn’t come at a fuckin’ worse time.
I shower and get myself ready before Tommy has a chance to get here.
The second I hit the top of the stairs, I can hear him raging, screaming my name, and causing the kind of ruckus that’s gonna get us both in trouble. The prospect at the gate shouldn’t have let him in without checkin’ that it was okay. Hell’s fire, maybe they fuckin’ did. He’s a fully patched member of an allied club. Why would any of the officers deny him entry? This whole situation sucks.
Tommy is standing in the middle of the bar with club girls scurrying around him tryin’ to get breakfast on the buffet in the back of the room. Several of them shoot me panicked looks as they pass.
He doesn’t wait for me to cross the room. He stalks over and hits me with two fists in the chest, sending me staggering back. “You sick son of a bitch,” he growls. “She’s fuckin’ twenty-two years old. You swore to me that you’d keep your fuckin’ hands off her and look out for her. But no, you just had to lay claim to her, didn’t you?”
“Tommy, calm down,” I grumble, rubbing two burning spots on my chest.
