(Dis)content (Judgement of the Six #5)

I shifted my weight as I struck out with a kick to the man’s knee. He surprised me by blocking with a downward thrust. We both pulled back and eyed each other. Meanwhile, his sidekick had moved nervously to the mouth of the alley. That was when I realized I was alone.

Crap. How had I lost Carlos? I needed to move this along so I could find the big guy.

“Why do you need the cash?” I asked.

Ethan would have shaken his head, but he would have understood. I needed to know I wasn’t kicking some down-on-his-luck dad who had starving quadruplets at home or something.

“Why do you need to know?”

His aggression hadn’t slipped to concern or desperation, so I knew there were no extenuating circumstances to prevent me from kicking his butt.

I let him have it.



Fifteen minutes later, I found Carlos leaning against one of the buildings across the street. My knuckles were bruised and my foot sore, but it was nothing compared to what I’d done to the two men.

“Better?” he asked, eyeing me.

“Much.” But for how long?

“Want to run back?”

I nodded. I had a feeling I’d need to do a lot of running and hiding here.

We made it to the parking garage in less time than it took to find my marks. Bethi and Luke were a few feet back from the guard at the door. When they saw us, they spoke to him; and he buzzed us through.

“Come on. We’ll show you to your apartment.”

We followed Bethi up three flights of stairs and opened a heavy metal, yet nicely painted, door to a plush hallway.

“Here’s your key,” she said, handing it to me. “It’s for the third door on the left. If you keep walking, we’re around the corner a ways. Carlos has Luke’s number if you need anything.”

They left us just outside our door.

I shoved the key in the lock and turned the handle, opening the door to a spacious apartment. I did a quick walkthrough. Comfortable couch positioned in front of a huge TV. Treadmill behind the couch. Nice. Breakfast bar in the kitchen. Cupboards stocked with dishes and fridge loaded with food. Then, I walked down the short hall. Bathroom on the right. Bedroom on the left. That was it.

“One bedroom?” I said, staring at our bags, which were already on the bed.

“The rest are sharing two bedroom apartments. Jim is taking a couch in one and Sam a couch in another. They thought it would be easier if you were kept separate. Michelle said bigger apartments are harder to come by, especially short term.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” I said quickly. “Just observing.”

“Would you help me with the bandages? I think I’ll take a shower then go to sleep.”

“Sure.”

And right there in the hall, he tugged his polo shirt over his head. I’d seen his bare chest several times already. Yet seeing him take off his shirt was completely different. I loved the roll of his muscles as he moved. He turned his back to me.

Carefully, I peeled the tape back and removed the bandages. Scabs clung to the deep wounds; however, the lighter abrasions showed recently healed pink skin.

I ran my fingers gently over the marks, unable to believe how incredibly fast they were healing. It took a few seconds to realize he was holding still for me.

“Sorry. You’re all set.”

He nodded, grabbed his bag, and went into the bathroom. The water turned on, and I walked to the kitchen to open the fridge. Inside, I found fancy sandwich fixings, including croissants instead of bread. There was some type of green stuff in a jar and carved, seasoned turkey. In the crisper were avocado and sprouts. Shrugging, I slapped it all together then took a huge bite.

Carlos stepped out of the bathroom in time to catch my groan. He stopped to watch me.

“You have to try this,” I said after I swallowed.

I hurried to him and offered up my sandwich. His lips twitched then he took a bite.

“Whoa! Was that a facial expression?”

He chewed then swallowed.

“Almost. That was good. Is there more?”

“Sure. I’ll make you one.”

I walked away wondering why he’d almost smiled. Maybe he wasn’t used to people sharing food with him. After watching werewolves eat, I could understand why.

He disappeared into the bedroom with his bag and came back a minute later to sit at the island and watch me put together his sandwich.

“How is it in here?” he asked.

I knew he meant the emotions.

“Not bad. I don’t really feel too much of anything. A wisp of this or that every now and again. That’s it.” I slid the plate with the sandwich over to him and took another bite of mine. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“Charlene and Michelle are trying to find a way to contact that reporter, Penny, to set up a meeting. It won’t be tonight. Tonight we rest.”

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