“Sorry for what?” he asks as he turns the car off.
“For being a bitch this morning. I know you didn’t mean anything by that “beggar” comment. I was just being too defensive and you didn’t deserve it. Not when you’ve been so nice to me and all.”
His casual smile turns into a full-blown grin, that deep dimple showing brightly. “Let’s not forget I saved your life, too.”
I giggle just a bit and then immediately bite down on my tongue to stop the foreign sound from coming out of my mouth. I can’t manage to turn down the corners of my mouth that unwillingly lift up. “Of course not... I could never forget that.”
My gaze falters a bit from the open acceptance of my apology on his face, and I stare back down at my skirt. I’ve never met anyone like Flynn Caldwell and his generosity unsettles me.
Because generosity is something I’ve never encountered in my entire adult life.
Not once.
Before I can act even more a fool over the way he ties me up, I grab the door and open it. Giving him a quick look, I tell him, “I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?”
He nods. “Sure. Take your time.”
Just before I shut the door, I tell him one more thing. “Do you mind if we make another stop before we head back to your place?”
His smile is warm and accommodating. “Sure... what do you need?”
“I need a cell phone and underwear,” I tell him. “It’s a bit drafty under this skirt without it.”
For some reason, I cannot fathom why, I get a surge of satisfaction as I see Flynn’s eyes flicker with heat and his gaze travel to the edge of my mini-skirt. I can practically see inside his head, as understanding dawns on him that I’m going commando.
“You’re not wearing underwear?” His voice is rough and for some reason, it causes me to have a reactive shiver.
Our eyes hold each other, and while I started out telling him this as a way to show him I didn’t have to be so serious all the time, it’s now turned into something a little sensual.
I shake my head. “I guess I better be careful... this skirt is awful short.” His gaze flicks back down to the hemline, which rests against my upper thighs, and back up again.
While his eyes seem to grow warmer as they look at me, his lips curl up when he says, “Don’t bend over and you’ll be fine.”
My face involuntarily reacts and I shoot him a grin as I shut the door. As I turn away to walk into the apartment building, I know his eyes are on my ass the entire time and it doesn’t bother me in the slightest.
Amy opens the door after I pound on it for about five minutes. I’ve clearly woken her up, even though it’s almost noon.
Her eyes are foggy as they try to focus on me but when recognition hits, she grabs my arm and pulls me in, slamming the door shut quickly.
“My God, Rowan... What are you doing here?”
“I came to get my money you were holding.”
She looks twitchy but says, “Sure... no problem. But then you have to leave.”
Her statement makes the hair on my neck stand up. “Has Juice been here?”
She nods as she reaches over to the counter for a pack of cigarettes. Pulling one out, she lights it, inhaling deeply and then letting a huge plume of smoke out. “Last night. He told me about the fire and that he’s been looking for you. He thought you were here and that I was hiding you.”
I can only imagine the intimidation tactics Juice would use and I feel terrible I put her in this situation, just by the mere fact we know each other. “Are you okay?”
She turns her back on me and walks into the kitchen. Reaching into a cupboard, she pulls out an old coffee can and pops the lid. “I’m fine. He scared the shit out of me though. Threatened me if I didn’t cough you up. He searched every inch of this rat-trap and when he didn’t find you, he left.”
Reaching into the can, she pulls out a roll of green and hands it to me. “It’s all there if you want to count it.”
Shaking my head, I stuff the wad into the pocket of my leather jacket. “Nah... I trust you.”
I really don’t trust her but I don’t want to stick around. The mere thought that Juice could be watching her place is giving me the willies.
“Thanks, Amy. I’m sorry he came here.”
I turn and head toward the door. As I reach for the knob, Amy touches my shoulder and I turn to look at her.
“Juice may not be looking too hard for you right now, so you might be okay.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was really bent out of shape about the fire. Said he knows who did it and they were going to pay. I’m thinking his energy is going to be focused on finding that person.”
“I doubt that. I’m pretty sure he set the fire himself.”
Amy looks at me in surprise. “No way!”
I grab the door handle and give her a hard look. “That shit kept me chained to the bed for three days. I don’t think he’s above taking me out. He’s f**king crazy, Amy.”
“I don’t know, Rowan,” she says, while shaking her head. She’s completely unfazed by my statement that Juice kept me chained up. “He was really pissed about the fire.”
Is it possible that Juice didn’t set the fire? I had just assumed that he was tired of keeping me chained to the bed, particularly because I was fighting him every step of the way. There wasn’t a time he came into that room that I didn’t curse at him for what he was doing to me. He had to have known, for sure, that I would never stay with him voluntarily.