Chapter 7

Lou stared around the table, pleased to see that Johnny, at least, had made it. He’d said he’d come, but now that everyone at the garage had girlfriends, the guys occasionally did couples shit instead of hanging out. Like Sam and Foley having to bail due to some chick thing their women had previously planned. But he didn’t blame them. Having had a taste of Joey, he’d have thrown the bastards over in a heartbeat if she’d suggested continuing their evening together.

“Hey, Casanova. What’s with the dopey smile?” Johnny asked. “Did the bear claw finally get the flower chick to that pity date you’ve been after?”

Lou cracked a smile. “Yes, it did. Foley’s better half did me a solid.”

Johnny laughed harder. “Better half, no kidding. I can’t believe Cyn hasn’t booted him out yet. I’m still thinking she’s into heavy drugs or something,” he teased.

“That one is a mystery,” Lou agreed. “But then, look at your woman. Lara is so sweet. How is it you two are a couple again?”

“I groveled like a pathetic moron,” Johnny confessed.

“Yeah, it took you a while to get your head out of your ass. But she’s worth it, right?”

Johnny gave a goofy smile. “Yeah. She’s the best.”

Lou held up his glass, and they toasted the lovely Lara. “Don’t fuck it up.”

Lara swung by with a fresh pitcher and leaned in to give Johnny a kiss. “Hey, sweetie. This is for you guys.”

“Thanks, baby.”

Lou grinned. “Gee, Lara. You bartending tonight?” Since she wore a black shirt with white letters that read “Bartender,” they knew the score.

“Funny, Lou. But with this crowd, it helps to be clear.” Lara took the money Johnny slid her and winked before walking away.

“She’s got a point.” Johnny nodded. “Look at what just walked in.”

Heller entered, and a path instantly cleared for him as he made his way to their table. A surprising addition trailed behind him.

“Well, well. Look who else decided to show.” Lou raised a glass and drained half of it. “Looks like the other half of the gang’s all here.”

“Except for Del,” J.T. Webster, Heller’s shadow, said as the pair joined their table. “But she’s married now.”

“So sad.” Lou commiserated with Del’s brother, who looked right at home sitting with her crew and Heller.

Interesting that Del and J.T. could act so alike yet look so different.

For one thing, J.T. was obviously African American. Light-skinned and with a resemblance to a popular wrestler-turned-actor, according to Del’s stepson, J.T. took after his father only in size and temperament. Technically he was Del’s half brother, since they biologically shared a father.

But Del and J.T. possessed such snarky senses of humor, it was easy to see that they were siblings.

Like the rest of the guys at the table, J.T. had a large build, huge arms, and an ability to get under Del’s skin. So, a natural fit for the group. Plus he owned an amazing tattoo studio and had done most of the ink in the place, including a few of the tats on Lou’s chest and upper arm.

“Nice to see you again, J.T.” Lou nodded at his fellow artist then at Heller.

Johnny nudged a beer glass at Heller. “Heller.”

“Johnny.” Heller glanced around the table, nodding at Lou, then not so casually looked at the bar.

Lou caught Johnny’s gaze and grinned.

They all knew the deal. Heller had it bad for Rena, everyone’s favorite single bartender.

Rena had cocoa-brown skin, tight golden curls framing a pixie face, and a trim figure just about everyone at the table had fantasized about at one time or another. Lou was no saint. Rena was fine, no two ways about it. He’d thought about asking her out when he’d first come to Ray’s years ago. But knowing she was a cousin to the Websters and understanding her kind heart and joyous personality probably couldn’t handle a nonpermanent relationship, he’d steered clear.

As had the rest of the guys. The Websters were protective about those they called family. And since he felt a reciprocal affection for the domineering clan, he had no problem watching out for Rena too. Heller surely had his hands full trying to win her over.

Though he’d made headway a while back, he’d since busted a few heads at Ray’s, and Rena had avoided him ever since.

“Should I get us more beer?” Heller asked, drank his down in one swallow, then rose for the bar before anyone could stop him.

“He’s toast,” Johnny predicted, pouring a glass for J.T. from their still-full pitcher. “Rena’s mad at some dickhead she dated for about two seconds. No way Heller gets anything more than a beer for his trouble tonight. Poor bastard.”

The guys talked about their latest projects in the garage and bet on how long it would take Foley and Sam to finally propose to their ladies.

Heller returned looking grim and slammed a new pitcher on the table. No one cautioned him about spilling beer.

“No good?” J.T. asked.

Heller slumped in his seat, sighed, and drank.

J.T. patted Heller on the back. Considered by the big guy to be a true artist, like Lou, J.T. often had a pass when it came to dealing with Heller. “It’s all good, man. Just give her time to realize you only pound bad guys. Last week just got a little messy is all.”

At Lou’s arched brow, J.T. explained, “The last time we came in, Fletcher mouthed off. You know Fletcher? That racist asshole with the stringy blond hair?”

“Oh, that guy. Good riddance.”

Heller grunted.

“He said something about Rena that Heller took exception to. Except Rena didn’t hear the mouthy part. She only saw Heller take out Fletcher and his cousins.” J.T. turned back to his buddy. “And speaking of which, you’d better watch your back, man. Fletcher has an in with some of the gangs running guns in town.”

“Whatever.” Heller muttered in German and poured another beer.

Lou and Johnny eyed him with caution before Johnny said, “He’s not going to go apeshit in here, is he? The last time he downed beer that fast, he wiped the floor with Argess and Monroe.”

J.T. laughed. “That was a fun night. No. He’d never drink that much,” he directed to Heller, emphasizing each word. “Not when Rena’s still watching him from her safe spot behind the bar.”

Heller sighed, took another sip, then pushed his glass away. “I’m hungry.”

Lou tried not to laugh but couldn’t help it. Another powerful man brought down by a woman with dimples.

Heller cursed in German, Lou answered in Spanish, and then the big German chuckled. “You’re such an asshole, Lou.”

“You got that right.” Johnny and J.T. clinked glasses, then Johnny said, “So if we’re not going to bug Rena or make fun of Heller, I think we should skip the trash talk and go straight to darts.”

“Which is all about trash talk, dumbass,” Lou said.

“Darts?” Heller sat up and blinked, then gave a slow smile. “I like darts.”

Lou grinned. “He might look like a bear, but he’s a softy at heart.”

Then Fletcher and his cronies moved toward their table. Shit.

“A softy, my ass,” J.T. muttered.

“Hey, Adolf.” Fletcher sneered. “Let’s play.”

“Oh boy. Heller really doesn’t like being called that,” J.T. muttered to the group as they proceeded to watch Heller beat the crap out of Fletcher before turning to Fletcher’s friends. Bets were placed, beer flowed, and the night got steadily more entertaining.

Lou had seen Sam fight, and Sam was amazing with his fists. But Heller made the Terminator look like a pussy. He never flinched when hit. He just got mad.

Lou wondered what Joey would think of the place, of Heller, of his friends. He could see her tolerating the guys if not the atmosphere. Not with a heart that fragile.

He sighed and drank more beer, not surprised he couldn’t stop waiting for her to text him about this weekend. In the mood to treat Heller to something to eat, because watching the man fight was a thing of beauty, Lou excused himself to the bar.

“Rena, honey, we need food,” he said loudly to be heard over the rowdy crowd. A Friday night at Ray’s usually brought out the scumsuckers. Tonight was no exception. The place normally smelled of stale beer and burgers. Some smoke, because despite the no smoking signs, Ray didn’t actually enforce too much. A scarred wooden floor covered with chairs and tables, then some booths that weren’t too much the worse for wear lined the walls. A half-decent jukebox played a mixture of hard rock, alternative, and grunge music. The waitresses had threatened to quit if Ray put country on the machine.

A rowdy crowd of bikers, blue-collar stiffs like him and the guys, and other lower life-forms frequented Ray’s. It was Lou’s favorite place to hang out. Especially on a night like tonight. It felt good to be free from rules sometimes. Even better if he could watch the chaos from the outskirts, his hands safely protected from impacting some jackass’s jaw.

Rena scooted past her fellow waitresses, slid a beer to one beefed-up biker, took a bill, then sidled to Lou’s spot by the bar. “Whew. Are we busy or what?” She gave him her bright wattage of a smile, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “So what can I get you, handsome?”

“A plate of nachos, burgers and fries for eight.” There were four of them, after all. He paused. “And some water for Heller. He’s not drinking.”

She frowned. “Why does he keep fighting Fletcher and those jerks? He’s going to get himself shot or stabbed. Or worse.”

How to tell her Heller had been defending her honor? But then Heller could have explained but hadn’t, so he’d stay out of the guy’s business. “I don’t know. But Fletcher’s an ass. It wouldn’t hurt to convince him to go elsewhere for a good time. Before he starts dragging his friends from the triple-K club here.”

She sighed. “There’s that. Okay, food for the He-Man table, coming up.”

Before she could leave, he leaned over the bar and grabbed her by the arm. “He’s a good guy, Rena. You could do worse.” He nodded back at Heller, who held one whimpering cretin by the collar while he glared at Lou and Rena. More particularly, at Lou holding Rena.

“I have done worse,” she said with a huff. Then she kissed Lou on the cheek and smirked. “Ha. That’s what you get for defending him. Now you’re in big trouble.” She laughed and flounced away.

And Lou had to go back to deal with the nightmare that was Heller while J.T. and Johnny laughed at him. Yet the possibility of the big guy’s rage couldn’t wash away his pleasure when Joey texted her agreement to meet him the following night.

Man, he had it bad, all right.

Heller dropped the creep he’d been holding, and the bouncers dragged Fletcher and his thugs away, since several of them had trouble standing.

Lou returned to the table and held up his hands in surrender. “Not the face or the hands. I need to be pretty for my girl when I see her tomorrow.” At Heller’s barely concealed rage and J.T.’s narrow-eyed stare, he hastily amended, “For Joey. Not Rena. Jesus, Heller, get a grip.”

Mis-take. Because now everyone focused on him.

Heller grunted and eased back.

Johnny and J.T. exchanged money.

“Hey.”

“All’s fair in love and rejection,” Johnny said. “Though I’m still surprised it took you this long to win over the flower chick.”

“Her name is Joey.”

“Her name?” J.T. kicked back in his chair. “Hey man, be who you gotta be. We just want you to be happy. And if it takes ‘Joe-y’ to get you there, so be it.”

Heller barked a laugh. “This I want to hear.” But he still shot a fist to Lou’s gut that made him blow out a breath. “But no more flirting with the bartenders.”

“She was flirting with me! Okay, right, gotcha.” He wheezed. “And Joey is a her, asshole,” he said to J.T.

“Yeah, the flower chick.” Johnny nudged J.T. “You remember. The woman who straight-up ignored him for how long?”

“Four months,” J.T. answered without missing a beat.

Heller laughed.

“Shut up, Webster,” Lou growled. “Or I start talking about you and a blond I remember you mooning over at your sister’s wedding.”

“Time for a refill.” J.T. darted away. Smart guy.

Everyone turned back to Lou, waiting.

He sighed. “I had coffee with Joey at NCB. And then we went out to dinner the other night.”

Johnny sighed. “I’m always the last to know. Well, Lou? We want details. Because we need to figure out how long you’ll last before she gives you the boot. I’m down for a month. Foley and Sam will want in on the action too.”

Heller shook his head. “And these you call friends?”

“Sad, I know.” Yet Lou wanted to know the answer to his drop-dead date as well. With any luck, he’d ensnare the woman before she could think to tell him no. Not until he’d gotten his fill of her. Which wouldn’t be anytime soon; he knew that for a fact.

* * *

Joey spent her Saturday morning doing chores. That afternoon, she took Brandon to a matinee, a cartoon about ninja fighting snakes he’d wanted to see, then they walked downtown through the crowds. She liked making sure her little boy felt comfortable in the city. Fear had never been a good instructor in her opinion. Better to know the good and bad about a thing before making up one’s mind.

Words to live by, because every time she thought about Lou, her girlie parts tingled and she wanted to throw up from nerves. No way that amazing time with him could happen again. Or could it?

And there went the butterflies of nausea again.

“I want a bowl of soup, Mom.”

Since she’d budgeted for the day with her little boy, she had no problem loading him up with a cup of stellar clam chowder. They ate and walked, enjoying the crisp spring weather. The sun shone over Seattle for once, and after petting Rachel the Piggy Bank at Pike Place Market—Brandon’s favorite thing to do—they walked around downtown before heading to a park closer to home.

She watched him run and play with some other children on the playground, swing to his heart’s content, then slide a few more times. “Brandon, we need to go.”

To her pleased surprise, her boy had made his own plans for the evening before she’d had to make them for him. A sleepover with a buddy. She now had no good excuse not to go out with Lou. Time to court her fear and learn what it was about the mechanic that affected her so.

Lou Cortez was just a man…with kissable lips and strong, firm hands. A man who’d actually given her an honest-to-God orgasm, her first with a partner in, well, forever.

Oh my God. I am pathetic.

She had to laugh, because she didn’t want to cry. Twenty-four years old and never been kissed…down there. Never had a partner given her a roaring O before “big” Lou. And never felt such honest-to-goodness lust in her life. Not even with Felix, and then she’d been drowning in nervous excitement and wonder. A sentiment quickly overridden by fear, regret, and guilt.

No wonder she had issues with sex. She’d never gotten it right until Lou.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since leaving the shop last night. Nor had she been able to forget so many sensations. Feeling him buried inside her while she found pleasure she’d never known existed.

Typically Joey hoped for a slim connection, a physical tie to another person for a short time. The pleasure of just being close to a man had been all she’d expected. But she’d never anticipated it could be so intense, so out-of-this-world amazing. No way it could be that good again. No. Better to not set herself up for disappointment. She should set her expectations low.

Yeah, she could do that.

She calmed herself while Brandon finished his last slide.

“If we don’t get going, you’ll be late for Todd’s party.”

A soccer buddy. Brandon played soccer on the weekends with a few friends from school, and he’d been dying for a sleepover with Todd for a while. It just so happened Todd had a birthday to celebrate. Tonight.

While she hung out with Lou. Would they go out, have a date? Or would they have more sex? Facing each other, maybe. Or not. That would be way more intimate than she’d be able to handle so soon. Maybe she should cancel the date and slow everything down.

But what about not succumbing to fear? Live what you preach, hypocrite.

She’d had sex on the third date. Well, technically, it hadn’t even been a date. More like a spontaneous sexual explosion.

Her cheeks heated, and she forced herself not to think about sex while spending time with her son. He was so excited to be with his friend at a sleepover party. She’d had qualms about him being gone before because he was so young, because he needed her to care for him. She was all he had. Yeah, and he needed to have friends and spend time apart from Mommy.

To her dismay, the idea of him leaving, even for the night, made her feel left behind. So stupid. Her son had to grow up sometime. It was good he felt confident enough to stay away from his mom, away from home. Besides, this wouldn’t be his first stay at a friend’s house overnight. Yet his eagerness to attend after giving her the third degree the other night when they’d been apart didn’t make sense.

If she hadn’t been so frazzled at the thought of seeing Lou again, she might have tried to figure the boy out. Instead, she put one foot in front of the other and managed to live in the now.

She took Brandon home, had him gather his things, then drove them to Todd’s. “Use your manners, be polite, and you call me if you need me. I can come pick you up. You don’t have to stay over tonight if you don’t want.” Yeah, call me and I’ll cancel with Lou. No problem.

“Yes, Mom.” Brandon rolled his eyes.

“I saw that.”

He giggled and rolled them again, then crossed them.

She kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye so as not to cause an accident while driving. “If you keep doing that, they might stay that way.”

“That would be epic.”

She sighed. “Trolled, epic, a-hole. Your vocabulary is hard to keep up with.”

At that, her boy laughed uproariously, and she couldn’t help joining him.

Dropping him off, she thanked Todd’s parents and handed the boy’s mother his present. “When should I pick him up? The invite said noon, right?”

The dad smiled and turned to address the gaggle of boys grouping behind him at the doorway. Once he’d ushered them back in the house, Todd’s mother ruffled Brandon’s hair.

Joey gave Brandon a kiss, tucked his arms in his overnight backpack, and shooed him toward Todd, who jumped up and down with excitement. “Have fun, Brandon.”

“I will. Bye, Mom.” He darted inside the house, not even a glance over his shoulder to see her leave.

“Noon? Hmm.” Todd’s mother looked ten years older than Joey. Her house had to cost a pretty penny. Joey had gotten so used to feeling inferior to the other kids’ parents that apparent wealth no longer threw her.

“Or sooner if you want. I’m flexible.” I’m also poor, but I’m getting there, one step at a time. Joey straightened and firmed her smile.

“Oh no. Please, let him stay at least until noon.” She glanced behind her then turned back to Joey and in a lower voice said, “We were actually hoping he could stay to play a little longer after the others leave. Todd loves Brandon. I was going to take them and maybe one other boy to the indoor soccer place for a while. Can he stay until three?”

Joey did the math. Twenty hours of alone time? “Seriously? How much do I owe you for my mini-vacation?” Realizing how terrible that sounded, she started to stammer a retraction when Todd’s mother laughed.

“I know exactly what you mean. We love ’em, but sometimes we just need a break.”

Joey relaxed. “Um, yeah. It’s fine if he stays. But I can always come get him if he changes his mind.”

“We’ll ask him tomorrow then, so he doesn’t slip and tell the other boys. Don’t want them to feel slighted.” The woman smiled. “I’m Janice, by the way.”

Joey blushed. “Sorry. I’m Joey. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Janice nodded. “We’ll have a blast tonight. You go enjoy the break.” Janice winked. “I plan to take a long, hot bath while my husband watches the kids. He owes me since I volunteered to be this season’s soccer mom.”

Joey grinned. “Have a great bath. I’ll just go sit at home and think about not having to nag anyone to brush their teeth tonight.” She felt giddy just thinking about it.

“Have at it. You have our number if you need anything.”

Joey left wearing a huge grin, pleased to know she could sleep in. A glance at her phone showed she had another two hours until she planned to meet Lou. She wondered where he’d want to meet. The location would surely tell her about his intentions.

Yes, she should wait to make up her mind about throwing up until after he told her where they should meet. In the meantime, she’d see if Becky was free.

Ten minutes and a text later, she drove to Becky’s house and planned to indulge in some girl time. Maybe Becky could help her understand her fascination for Lou.

She arrived at Becky’s soon enough. Her friend shared a condo with a fellow teacher. As Joey entered, said teacher left with a smile.

“She’s got a date tonight.” Becky motioned to the coffee table, laden with wine, crackers, and cheese. “And apparently now so do I. Dig in.” Becky lowered her voice and said, suggestively, “Welcome to my pad, sweetness. Boom chicka bow bow.”

Joey laughed. “Stop. That only works when I’m the plumber or the delivery guy.”

Becky sighed. “Guess I’ll have to save that for Trent, who’s out of town this weekend. How the hell am I supposed to seduce him when he’s helping his grandmother move?”

“Aw, that’s so nice.”

“Nice ain’t sexy. Gah.” Becky munched on a cracker. “But I’m excited to hang with you. I can’t believe you finally got paroled. So Brandon the criminal is hanging with the other hooligans, eh? Way to dodge that bullet, Joey.”

“Funny.” Joey paused. “Ah, there’s one thing. I can’t stay past eight. I have a…date.”

Becky stared. “Not with sexy Lou again.”

Joey’s silence answered for her.

“Oh my God. Dinner must have gone well the other night. Tell me.”

Joey swallowed. “He was polite, charming. He looked amazing. He’s really built.” She flushed, feeling that “built” inside her all over again. “We talked then walked after dinner. He paid too. And he was so nice, so sweet. We held hands.”

“Romantic.” Becky sighed.

And then last night he bent me over the flower table and made me see stars. Yeah, romantic.

Becky hugged a pillow to her chest, her expression dreamy until her eyes narrowed on Joey’s face. “Why are you blushing so hard? I mean, your face is really pink.” Her eyes widened. “Holy crap. You had sex with him, didn’t you?”

“N-no.” She cleared her throat. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

“Oh my God, you did. You did! Joey Reeves got some lovin’. Hot damn. It’s about friggin’ time!”

Still feeling overheated, Joey glanced up at her friend. “You can’t tell anyone.” She swore. “I can’t believe it happened. It just…I’m still trying to process it.”

“What’s to process? You fell for the magic in his man-wand.” Becky shrugged, as if it was no big thing. “Happens to the best of us. Well, except for me and Trent the Boy Scout,” she grumbled.

Joey was stuck on man-wand. “What did you call it?”

Becky burst out laughing. “If you could see your face. Hey, you should hear half the things they call it. Fuckstick, staff of life, lady’s lollipop. I could go on.”

“Please, don’t.” Joey grimaced.

“I know, right? Man-wand is so much better.” Becky paused. “Is it, Joey? Is it better? Or did you lollipop him? You know, like what we in the know call it—the hand and blow.”

Joey’s face threatened to melt clean off. She had a feeling she could fry eggs on her cheeks. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

“Me neither.” Becky grinned. “You’re like beet red right now. Or fire-engine red, maybe. Hey, did you guys remember to wear a ‘raincoat’?” Becky snickered.

“Stop talking, please.”

“Just tell me this. Do you want to do it again? As in, was it any good? Tell me, and I’ll shut up.”

“It was amazing, okay?” Joey growled. “So great I can’t stop thinking about doing it again. And I don’t tend to do well with men and sex.”

“That’s because you live like a nun in the Church of Reeves, presided over by Father Andrew and Sister Amy. God, it’s a wonder you have a kid with all the guilt your parents keep throwing on you. And after eight—”

“Nine.”

“—years, you’d think they’d let it go.”

“So maybe I was just desperate. It was a one-shot deal, right?” So why am I thinking of being with him again when I know it’s a mistake?

Becky shrugged and ate more crackers and cheese. “I think you should be desperate again. If you want him, have him. You have a right to be happy. Take joy in his man parts. Go forth, just don’t prosper.”

Joey choked on a laugh. “Yes, Mom.”

“Ouch.”

“Don’t worry. We were safe.” Rather, he was safe. She’d been so far gone, she hadn’t thought about protection until it was almost too late, which was just stupid. Granted, she wouldn’t have babies with Lou while on birth control. But she could always chance a disease with an unknown. She’d been so wrapped up in the moment, lost to her body’s needs.

But Lou had thought ahead.

Which put his actions in a different light. Had he expected to have sex with her?

“What’s that look?” Becky asked.

“He was ready for it. Us, I mean.”

Becky looked confused.

“He was prepared.”

“Jesus, Joey. You can say condom and not burn in hell. So he was prepared. Good for him.”

“You think?”

“Who cares why he had the condom? He had it, you had fun. And if you’re lucky, you’ll have more fun tonight.” Becky poured herself some wine. “Have some for me, would you? Because I’m clearly not getting any.” She cocked her head, considering something. “Unless Will’s home.”

“Becky.”

Becky laughed. “Nah. Will’s in Italy this month.” She chuckled. “Kidding, kidding. I’m wanting Trent. I am. Really.”

They laughed some more, and when Joey excused herself for the bathroom, a new text popped up. Lou had decided on the place. An address in Rainier Valley, where he’d mentioned he lived.

She didn’t know what to think, so she took care of business and blanked her mind.

She returned to the living room. “He invited me to his place.”

Becky blinked. “You were gone maybe five minutes.”

“He just texted me.”

“So go.”

“To his place?”

“Why not? Is he rapey or something?”

“No.” He’d been a perfect gentleman since she’d known him. And even after sending her to heaven, twice, he’d ended their impromptu session at the flower shop with a hug and by walking her to her car. “No. He’s nice. Sexy. Too—”

“He’s exactly what you need.” Becky nodded. “Give me your phone.”

Joey handed it over and bit her thumbnail, a nervous habit she thought she’d broken.

“There. You’ll see him in half an hour. Well? Get moving.” Becky nudged her to the door. “I want a full report tomorrow.”

Then she shoved Joey through, slammed the door after her, and laughed.

“I can hear you,” Joey said.

“I know,” came back, muffled through the door. “Now go get laid.”

Joey raced down the hallway so no one would associate her with Becky’s comments. Back inside her car, she laid her forehead on the wheel and tried to figure out what she wanted.

Live in the moment for once, the daring part of her insisted. You don’t know what he wants. He might just want to hang out, be friends without sex on the table. She laughed hysterically when she realized “sex on the table” applied, literally, to her.

Joey lifted her head, trying to talk herself out of going the entire way to Lou’s house. But the tough woman under all the wussiness, the girl who knew it was time to stop trying to please her father by being a born-again virgin, who wanted to be a role model for her son by facing her fears, knew she had to go.

After parking in Lou’s drive, she let herself out, locked the car, and took two steps up the driveway.

“Who the hell are you?” came an angry woman’s voice from behind her.

And this is why we should never listen to imaginary voices in our head, common sense told her before she turned to face the proof that she’d made a huge mistake.