Page 13 of Untouchable
“It was for a good cause. That guy needed to die.”
“I know, but it’s like the property is haunted now or something. It’s like he’s dead but he’ll never be gone from there.”
Siren rolls her eyes. “Do some spiritual bullshit and call it a day. An asshole died and your stalker is gone. You should be celebrating.”
I’ve always admired the way that Siren can let anything roll right off her. Even murder, apparently.
“Seriously, though, you’re so lucky Ox was there. Can you imagine if that guy had come after you alone?”
I shake my head, because she’s right. I am lucky he was there, except all I’m thinking about is how he was slapping my pussy, and how I was about to come.
Who’d have thought that would be so great?
“I am lucky,” I say. “You here for the weekend again?”
“Yes.” She pinches her lips together. “I’m helping Mom with wedding plans, which is more awkward than you’d think by the way. You should come by tomorrow. We’re going dress shopping.”
“Umm… I have to wash my hair.” I grin. “Maybe you should wash yours too. It’s looking pretty greasy.”
“Please! Can I skip out like you? I’d rather chew my foot off than keep going back. She’s driving me crazy. But you know me, please your mother at all costs.”
I pinch my brows together. “Is that you? I thought that was me. You’re the defiant one.”
Her eyes roll in a circle and her hand lands on her hip. “Oh, please… I’ve been vying for these people’s approval my whole life.”
“These people?” I laugh.
“Yes, these people, because clearly, we’re adopted. Well, I am. You could pass for Dad’s kid. You two love the same hippy, dippy, bullshit.”
I smack her arm playfully. “Hey!”
“What? It’s not an insult to say you’re like your father. You love him, right?”
I shake my head and bite back a grin as I lock up the door and head out into the parking lot, my sister close behind. “I’ll think about tomorrow. Text you later?”
She kisses my forehead. “Text ya later. Love you.”
“Love you, too!”
Usually, I see Maddox pulling up with the goats this time of night, but maybe he’s bringing them by in the morning. Either way, the hay is ready. I climb down into my car, roll down the window, and take off, driving up the long forest road toward my trailer. The further I climb, the cleaner the air gets, and soon I’m sucking in the scent of pine, sunflowers, and daisies.
It’s late in the day and the sun would be in my eyes if it weren’t for the cedar that blocks it from view.
Reaching toward the radio dial, I twist until the music is nearly as loud as it will go. It’s an attempt to drown out the thoughts that won’t leave my head, but it’s not working. It hasn’t worked. Every hour of every day for the past two weeks, I’ve thought about Ox.
His rough hands on my skin. His deep voice in my ear. The way he spoke and commanded me. The way he took charge of my body. The way his massive frame dwarfed me like a tiny little bug. The way he called me little one.
My heart jumps and beats heavily in my chest. What’s happening? I can’t breathe.
I attempt to sing the song that’s blaring, but tears roll down my face.
It was one night. I spent one night with this guy. I shouldn’t feel anything. I shouldn’t have felt anything.
Rain patters against the windshield as my trailer comes into view. Outside, there’s a truck parked with black tinted windows and a man stands leaned against the door.
My stomach squeezes and my heart stops. It’s Ox.
I drag in a heaping of air and stare at him with tears in my eyes. I asked him to leave. I told him we couldn’t do this, that we shouldn’t do this.