Page 20 of Moros
“And why not? When was the last time someone touched your penis, other than you?”
I opened my mouth to refute that but clamped my lips shut.
“Can you just focus on something other than my penis for a second?”
“Why?” Pasha questioned. “Is there something more important than your penis?”
“Pash!”
She groaned. “Fine. What’s the deal with her?”
“I’m not sure.” I admitted. “She was attacked one night heading home from work. At first, we thought it was by people who wanted her purse. But there’s something not right. Boss did some digging for me and what he found left me with more questions than answers. Until I can figure this out, I need you to be her shadow.”
“Okay, I got you, Phi.” She agreed.
“I’ll send you her address and where she works.” I was already on my phone. “Just watch her for now.”
Exhausted, I left the bar earlier than usual and went home. After a long shower, I wrapped a towel around my hips and went back to the file I’d been creating on Ryanne. I couldn’t imagine growing up in the foster system, alone, no one wanting me.
She’d been fostered three times the entire eighteen years she’d been there and from what saw, she was returned each time. There wasn’t any information on why—all it said was foster failed.
I found an instant where she was hospitalized due to a near drowning. She was kept in the hospital for a little over two days due to a fear of second drowning, but other than that she was a healthy child.
Her grades in school were very good—and there weren’t any disciplinary actions on her file.
Then what stopped her from being adopted?
Why did her fosters fail?
I had so many questions rattling around in my exhausted brain.
Like I usually did, I fell asleep in my office, leaned back in my overstuffed chair. But while it wasn’t the best place to sleep, the nightmare of the night that changed my entire world filled my brain. It floated in on me like the smashing down of a tsunami wave and left me struggling to breathe because of the main and the chaos.
Having a sharp blade slicing through the skin was a kind of pain I didn’t wish on anyone—that coupled with the panic and the fear that curled my inside forced me awake, panting.
No matter how long ago the attack happened, I didn’t think I would ever get used to it.
I didn’t think I’d ever get rid of the nightmares that came with it.
Shaking, I stood.
The towel I had on slipped to the floor but since I lived alone, I didn’t care.
Walking my naked body into the kitchen, I grabbed a couple bottles of water and then wandered up the stairs to my bedroom. After using the bathroom, I drank one of the bottles of water, set the other on the bedside table then plugged my phone to charge.
I tried again to settle in, but my brain went from the nightmares to Ryanne.
That was dangerous territory.
5
RYANNE “SHORTY” LARWICK
The sharp, familiar sound of the door falling off its hinge again caused me to roll my eyes. I was tired of asking for it to be repaired by a professional. If it fell off on a customer that wasn’t my issue, and I was at the point where I didn’t care.
Exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before, I carried someone’s order to their table, refilled their water and stole a bottle of ketchup from a nearby table for the little boy with the chubby cheeks. He giggled at me when I set the squeeze bottle close to him.
“What do you say?” His mother asked in that sugary voice used on small children.