He hits me again. My reluctance wavers, and in its place, a new kind of want forms.
I’m ready for more.
I’m ready to take him back.
Closing my eyes, I hold my breath and prepare myself to respond, but before I can be sucked back into his vortex, I’m abruptly interrupted.
“I’m worried about Mitch.”
The four words are as effective as being doused in ice-cold water.
“Why, what’s wrong?” I look up from my phone to find Sue in the kitchen, standing at the opposite end of the breakfast bar.
I had come in here to get something to eat, but Hetch’s texts disrupted me. Now I’m so flustered, I’ve lost my appetite.
“We found this in his room today. Had it hidden in a tear in his mattress.” She steps around the breakfast bar, stopping an arm’s length away from me and hands me a small pocketknife.
Jesus.
“You confronted him?” I turn the knife over in my hand, taking a closer look.
“Yeah, and that’s what I’m worried about. When we asked him why he had it, he wouldn’t tell me. Just said he needed it for protection.”
“From his brother?”
“He didn’t say, but who else would have him scared?” The implication that Dominic is a part of this seems fitting. I’m just not sure we see it right.
“Hetch said Dominic and his crew moved underground when they raided one of his places. It could be someone else, someone his brother is mixed up with.” Jesus, I don’t know what’s worse: Dominic still threatening Mitch or someone else who’s out to get revenge.
“Well, either way, we need to keep a close eye on him. When I took it off him, he lost it. Said he can’t leave the house without it. I’ve never seen him like this.”
“Okay, I’ll have a word with him today.” I place the knife in my pocket, making a mental note to lock it away in my office so no one else can find it, and make a call to his caseworker before my shift ends. “Maybe I can get him to open up to me about what’s going on.”
“Or maybe you could have a word with Hetch. I know he’s been coming around a lot more. Maybe he might have something else to offer. He may be able to reach Mitch in a way neither one of us can.”
My body locks at the sound of his name.
“Ahh, yeah,” I ease out, hoping she didn’t notice the change in me at his name. “It can’t hurt to involve him, give him a more active role as a mentor around here. I’ll have a word with him, see what he thinks.” I step away from her, effectively ending the conversation of Hetch. My earlier need resurfacing right now is not what I need.
“Okay, I’m leading rec time today. I better get out there.”
She walks out without a backward glance, leaving me alone with too many thoughts and too many concerns.
Later in my shift, another text comes through. I contemplate ignoring it, but curiosity gets the better of me.
Hetch: I know you don’t want to hear this, but my cock is hard for you right now, thinking about the last time I had you.
Seriously, I’m screwed.
Thirty-One
Hetch
“Hetch?” The knock comes through the wall unexpectedly, causing a spike in my heart rate. I just got home after a long twelve-hour shift where my SWAT team were smashed with high-risk arrest warrants most of the day. After receiving an elbow to the jaw from some cracked-up meth head, my head still pounds, and my body aches from tackling said meth head down a flight of stairs. But as much as I want to sleep for the next two days straight, the sound of my name coming through the wall takes every one of my issues away.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” I sit up in my bed and move closer to the wall. Normally. I'm the one who instigates these talks, but something tells me after my risqué text today, she’s finally coming around. Perhaps knowing I still get a hard-on for her was all she needed to hear?
“Do you ever have days where you think you don’t know what the hell you’re doing?” Her voice is quiet, unsure, and a little unsteady.
“Ha, you do know who you’re talking to, right?”
She lets out a shaky laugh before clearing her throat. “I’m serious, Hetch.”
“What’s going on, Liberty?” There’s a pause on her end before she replies.
“I’m worried about Mitch. He’s pulling away, and I don’t know what to do.”
“What’s been happening?”
“Sue found a pocketknife in his room today. When she took it off him, he freaked out, said it was for protection.”
“You think his brother is pressing him?” I don’t doubt he might try, but with an arrest warrant out for him, the dickhead would be stupid to try anything.
“He said he isn’t, but I don’t know if I believe him. I think he’s hiding something.”