DROPPING THE TOWEL, it pools at my feet. I reach into the bag and pull out a white button up blouse, and pull it over me. It’s big. How Mildred thought we were the same size is beyond me. It’s three sizes too big, fitting as a nightgown, but it’ll work for a few hours of sleep. It’s actually pretty comfortable, even if the cuffs of the sleeves hang off my fingers by at least two inches.
Tossing the bag on the counter, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I hate that we’re staying here, but the bags under my eyes disagree. Zeek has never steered me wrong before, and as bitter as I am about everything happening, I do love him. He said he loved me before, but I lost sight of that after everything that happened. Him picking me over his club speaks volumes, reminding me of the reason why I fell for him in the first place. I may not understand what happened with my father, but he was right about my department being as dirty as they come. If I want to live to prove my innocence, I’m going to have to get with the program and stop being such a pain in the ass. Even if that means I’m going to have to get my own hands dirty to do so.
My heart strikes with fear just thinking about it, fear licking up my limbs.
Shaking unclear thoughts from my head I kick my bloody clothes in the corner then grab my badge that I had set on the counter before showering, my finger thumbing it. I used to think it held so much power before. Just holding it up to a civilian you’d instantly get a look of respect. Now though, this badge doesn’t have any power. It’s just a piece of metal. I shove it in the bag, not wanting to look at it any longer. I saunter out of the bathroom and notice Zeek has a chair propped up against the front door, his head leaned back. The couple on the bed are rubbing at their wrists, and eyeing Zeek like the Devil. Well, Donald is, Mildred looks like she wants to comb his hair while she tells him all about her life.
I climb into the bed, and scurry under the over-starched covers.
“If you’re smart, you won’t try anything,” Zeek rasps. He has one eye open, his hand grasping a gun sitting on his knee. Slowly I look at the couple, and they glance my way, neither of us sure who he is talking to. “Sweet dreams.” Zeek smiles, flipping the light off behind him.
Sitting in the dark I watch him. He’s leaning back in the chair, his head lolled back with his feet kicked up on the dresser. His boots are untied, and his shirt is sticking to his toned chest from sweat. I shift in my spot, becoming aware of how uncomfortably hot I suddenly am.
His chest rises, as he nibbles on his bottom lip soundlessly. His facial hair has grown. I like it. A lot, actually. His eyes are closed, sealing off the deep hardness in the pools of his irises hiding the transparent anger outlining his face. The light pouring through the edge of the hotel curtain casts a glow along his body, illuminating beads of sweat that have formed on his skin. With the gun in his lap he looks just as insane as he does sexy. The emotions rising in my chest are unsettling as I look at the man I am so in love with. I hate him…I think?
However, I’d do anything to have him in bed with me, the scruff of his cheeks rubbing against my shoulder as he pulls me close. Of course I’d pretend like I hated it, but secretly I need him more than anything right now.
Isn’t that ironic. The only cure for my heart being broken is the one who caused the damaged.
One of his eyes pop open, and my stomach drops with the realization that he caught me ogling him.
Quickly I turn and toss the sheet over me. My heart pounding. Now he knows I’m conflicted, I saw it in his eyes, even if briefly. He knows that I want him…
Fuck!
***
HOLLOW BROWN EYES plague my dreams. Blood pouring over my vision as I continue to run through my viscous nightmare.
“Jilly Bean, I want you to know I love you. I know I don’t say it much, but I do. When you came into our department, I hoped a new leaf would turn for our workforce. I want you to promise me you’ll keep that spitfire that burns so bright inside you.”
“Dad.” I cry out, my hands clutching his chest.
He dissolves in my hands, falling to the desert floor before sifting away with the wind.
“Nooo!” I sob, trying to grab the ashes.
“Jillian!” The voice of the Devil booms from behind me.
I clench my eyes shut, trying to will it away. A hand mimicking a scaly demon clamps down on my shoulder. “Jillian! Wake up!”
My eyes pop open, and Zeek is holding me in his arms tightly. My borrowed shirt soaked with sweat, my hair everywhere.