Page 73 of Tormented

“Do I look like a goddamn babysitter?”

I smirk. I can’t help it. Visions of him changing nappies flash through my mind. It’s so wrong it’s just absurd.

“No,” he affirms. “Didn’t think so. And yet, there I was”—he holds a hand toward where he slept—“keepin’ you safe from whatever.”

What do I say to that? Can’t argue that I didn’t ask him to, because I pretty much did. Also can’t argue that it wasn’t needed, because it was. I haven’t felt so secure in a long time. I’m usually up every hour, even when Hooch has his sleepovers. The habit of forever being on edge gets kind of hard to shake when even a locked door couldn’t keep you safe as a child.

“Fine,” I say on a sigh. “Anything else?”

“Your tank’s a little twisted.” He points to my chest with a devilish smirk.

Jesus, I could die. I look down and yank the fabric around so my nipple isn’t poking out the side of the armhole anymore.

“Hey,” he says with a chuckle. “We’re almost even now, right?”

“Almost?” I cry. “Why only almost?”

“You got full frontal last night. I only got a peep of nip.”

“Ugh. Serious?”

“Deadly.” He bites his bottom lip, screwing his palms together.

“Fine.” It’s long past time to call this fucker’s bluff. I spin around so my back is to him, feet shoulder width apart, and wrench my cut-offs and panties down my legs, bent double at the waist. “Even?”

“Baby, you got no idea.”

***

“Morning, Abbey.” Tap enters the dining hall with a frown on his face.

“Lovely day out there,” I murmur.

“It is.” His gaze drifts across the room to where Sawyer sits at one of the far tables; chair reclined on its back legs as he sips his coffee. “You were up early,” he addresses me, while still staring at Sawyer.

“Always am.”

Sawyer smirks.

I push the last quarter of my waffle around the plate before me, well aware I’m being watched.

“King expects you back today.” Tap returns his focus to me. “The rest of us will head off later today—all the officers have been called in—but he wants you on the road this morning.”

“Of course he does.” Couldn’t let my leash out for too long.

“Sawyer,” Tap says, eyeing me suspiciously. “My office in an hour.”

“No can do.”

“Excuse me?” Tap’s head snaps around.

I take a small bite of waffle, watching their showdown with interest.

“I said,” Sawyer drags out. “No can do. We can talk about whatever it is you got on your mind in Lincoln.”

“Look, I get you’re keen—”

“Ain’t the reason why I want to leave early.”