Page 44 of Redemption in the Dark (The Righteous 5)
He flicked on the cold water and stepped under the freezing spray allowing the water to cool his mind and his skin as it beat down on his back. The water had also cooled off the hard-on he’d been sporting most of the day. He needed to get control of his emotions. They were starting to run as wild as Maeve herself.
The shower and dinner were a quiet whirr in his mind. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d cooked the burgers, he wouldn’t even have known what they ate.
“Good night, Maeve,” he said as soon as the dishes were cleared and cleaned.
He wouldn’t look at her, or his resolve might slip further as she hummed softly and casually brushed against him as she moved around the kitchen. He couldn’t tell if she was doing it on purpose, but he wouldn’t put it past her to purposely drive him crazy.
“Wolf,” she called out, and he paused his back to her. “Are you mad at me, you know, for the kiss?”
“No, I’m just not feeling great. I promise.”
“Then why won’t you look at me? You haven’t been able to look at me since leaving your parents.”
He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching tight as he turned his head to look over his shoulder. His eyes found hers. “There, I looked at you, and I’m not mad. I wouldn’t lie to you like that. Good night.”
“Sure, whatever,” she whispered, but he chose to pretend not to hear it. She wasn’t wrong, and there was no point arguing. The issue was she was wrong about why he was lying. Something was bothering him, and it wasn’t only the kiss they’d shared or his desire to press her up against a wall and do everything to her that she’d been asking for him to do. Fuck. He badly wanted all of that, but as he put his head on the pillow, all that had happened since they met gnawed at his gut.
He was sadly mistaken if he’d thought that a good night’s sleep would help his dilemma. He lay in bed and stared at the ceiling as his mind raced. He replayed every piece of information and interaction he’d learned or had since the first phone call from his boss. At three o’clock on the nose, he heard Maeve get up and go out to the living room. It was the same even on the trail. He’d feel her stir beside him and sometimes sit up at the exact same time.
Getting to his feet, he opened the door to slink out into the hall. He could hear her whispering and knew she had to be talking to Duke. He stood in the dark and stared at the beauty that had fluttered into his life. She was as erratic and as beautiful as the tattoo on her neck. She was curled up on the couch with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and Duke was lying with his head on her lap. Her fingers trailed through his fur as she continued to speak to him quietly, and the moment touched him. Jimmy would’ve loved Maeve. If Jimmy were still alive, he’d be pushing for him to go for it with Maeve. His lip curled up as he pictured Jimmy booking the date and driving them to the dinner just to ensure it happened. Wolf slowly slid down the wall and stretched out his legs as the sadness pressed on his chest.
Maeve’s soul was restless, and it was becoming clear that he needed to help her solve that puzzle, or neither of them would ever rest peacefully again.
Maeve yawned and stood, her legs stiff from sitting crossed-legged for so long. Duke grumbled as she moved and then flopped his head down on the couch.
“Sorry I dared to move,” she whispered to Duke, giving his head a gentle rub.
Not wanting to wake Wolf up, she softly padded across the kitchen to the coffee pot and got it brewing before pulling out all the ingredients to make pancakes. After some rummaging around, she found chocolate chips and smiled at the simple treasure. There were only two things in the world she knew how to make from scratch, pancakes and mac and cheese. Dropping a spoon, Maeve cringed as it clanged off the tile floor.
“It’s way too quiet in here,” she muttered, picking up the spoon.
She needed noise or something to focus on other than her own thoughts. Wolf didn’t seem to be into anything electronic. There was no television to be found, and the only radio was attached to the kitchen cupboard. It looked so old that its dials had faded to a creamy beige color.
She wandered through the small living room and snooped around, pausing when her eyes fell on a thick folder hiding under a magazine. It was new. She was sure of it. She had a knack for picking up differences in a room or on a person, and this folder had not been here yesterday morning.
Maeve looked over her shoulder before opening the top flap of the file. She stared at the mug shot of herself and quickly skimmed over the first couple of pages before she was unable to read anymore. She wasn’t surprised to find her file. It wasn’t like he was a U.S. Marshal that had been sent to track her down or anything.
She closed her eyes as the weight of understanding hit. The world saw her as a screw-up. No matter what she did for the rest of her life, her past choices would hang over her head and affect everyone’s judgment.
Maeve took a steadying breath. Damn, the number of times she’d been in trouble for one thing or another… Sure, what she’d done all seemed like fun at the time, but now all of it only made her feel like crap. Trespassing, vandalism, public intoxication, assault, breaking and entering, and theft were all offenses she’d committed. The list was longer than the number of cuts on her arms and just as painful to think about.
It had been part of the reason why Trev had trouble building a case for her. Not only had she been framed extremely well, but she’d established a pattern of behavior that she couldn’t deny. She was the ultimate fuck up.
No, you were in a good mood. Don’t go down that path.
Re-focusing her efforts, she moved a few things around and spotted a small black CD player near the top shelf.
“Wow, Wolf, you need some upgrades,” she whispered as she rose up on her toes to pull down the round machine.
She dusted it off and waved her hand in the air as the dust lingered, making her want to sneeze. There was a small stack of CDs sitting to the side of where the player had been, and she grabbed the whole stack to take into the kitchen. She set the player up and grabbed the top disc that was labeled “NOW Top Hits 1990s.” Popping it into the top, she was shocked when the thing fired up with a soft whirr right away.
She pushed the small button that said shuffle and couldn’t help, but wiggle to the music as the song “Achy Breaky Heart” by Billy Ray Cyrus began to play. She was humming away and mixing the batter by the time “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls came on, and she danced in a circle and burst into song as the chorus played, totally forgetting she was trying to be quiet. The song was infectious. She’d heard it many times on the radio or in a mix at clubs, but she could never get enough.
“That was my sister’s favorite song,” Wolf said.
His deep voice made her jump. Luckily, the bowl in her arms and the thick batter remained where it was rather than falling to the floor.
“Holy hella fuckin mallony, Wolf.” Laughing, she turned to face him, but he wasn’t looking at her.
