Page 333 of All For You Duet
Yeah, he’s in federal custody, but the FBI agents let me have this, too. They know the story of Pamela, of my friend, so this public act on her behalf is payback the whole nation will see.
Gentry doesn’t speak a word. He’s too smart. He won’t indict himself any further, though I don’t know why he cares. There’s no judge or jury he can bribe to get out of this.
I press my hand over his perfectly parted hair, shoving him hard into the backseat of a patrol car. He’s wearing madras pants and a bow tie, and I love this too much because I hate those fucking pants almost as much as I do him. And I’d rather strangle him with that bow tie, but his preppy ass will get a daily beating in prison… I’ll make sure of it.
He won’t look at me. Staring straight ahead with his hands cuffed in front of him, I can smell his god-awful Abercrombie cologne as I lean into the car, my lips nearing his sweating face, terror seeping from his greasy pores.
“This is for Pamela, Redix, and me.” I flick his cheek, making him wince. “How you like us now?”
I laugh as I slam the car door behind me.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“I got this onion shit down.”
I look up from the peppers I’m slicing to smile at Cade dancing around our kitchen.
“Pony” by Ginuwine is playing for old-time’s sake on the Bluetooth speaker, and Cade’s giving one helluva show for me and the empty dishwasher behind her.
“If you’re gonna shake your ass in those tiny red shorts, put the damn knife down and grind it my way.”
She doesn’t even cry anymore when she chops onions. Hell, she hasn’t cried in months. It’s been four of them since Mama G passed, and we found Pamela, since we’ve all found the peace we deserve.
I got Pamela the best care. I found a place in Arizona where she and her mom live now. It’s like a spa resort with cottages where Pamela gets all the medical care and counseling she needs. We have a trip planned to visit her next month. Pamela looks good on our video chats in the meantime.
“Mom loves the weather here,” she told us on the last chat. She’s starting to get a tan. “They have these adorable tiny therapy goats we do yoga with, too. They hop all over us.” She even had a twinkle back in her eye. “Y’all should get one.”
“Yes!” Cade was way too excited. “Let’s get a tiny goat.”
“Oh shit.” I was outnumbered. “You two and your crazy schemes.”
“The crazy scheme was you taking my mom to the Golden Globes,” Pamela laughed, and it felt like old times, the three of us joking together. “She won’t stop talking about it.”
“Good,” I answered her. “Because she’s going again with me this year.”
I’d do anything for Pamela and her mom. So would Cade. And those details Pamela shares with a gentle smile. But she’s not ready to share more, and we all understand why.
Cade wants to get married at our house in Malibu. That way, Pamela doesn’t have to return here, and I don’t blame her. I like the idea. Our wedding deserves a destination without the history that’s here. Though we’re strong enough to live with that, too.
Pamela and Penny will be Cade’s bridesmaids, while zero guesses who’ll be my best man.
“You mean you want this ass?”
Cade turns and starts working her firm cheeks over my cock like I have pockets full of twenties.
“Woman, you better grab your ankles because I’m about to fuck one of your tight holes.”
She laughs, but I can play just as much as she can because, damn, she’s turning me on. I push the chicken in the skillet away from the heat and turn off the burner because something else is about to get cooking.
It’s been like this since I got home. She’s all feisty because she busted Gentry, Derek’s in jail, too, and TJ’s gone for good.
We’re more than free. We’re happy as hell even though I had to leave for two months to film in Vancouver, so Cade’s been jumping my bones every night since I got back.
I’m the luckiest man alive.
“When are you gonna tell me?” I love how she interrogates me. Turning around, her palm glides down my length, hanging heavy for her under my shorts. “What are we doing for my thirtieth birthday?”
“Our thirtieth birthday.”