When He's Dirty, стр. 52
She scoots over beside me and rests her head on my arm, glancing up at me. “Is this okay?”
I wait for some kind of internal push-back, some rejection of my growing bond with Pri, but it’s not there. Something inside me is changing, and it’s all about her. “Yes,” I say. “Perfect.”
She’s perfect, I think a while later when the rain is steady and so is her breathing. Too perfect for me and it guts me to know that it won’t be long until she agrees.
Chapter Thirty-Six
ADRIAN
When we hit the gravel road not far from the cabin, with rain pounding the windows, Pri bustles to life, sitting up with a jolt. “What’s happening?”
“Bad roads,” I say. “Easy, sweetheart. All is well.”
Her shoulders roll forward. “Thank God. How long was I out?”
“Most of the drive. We’re about to arrive now.”
She presses her hands to her face and then her legs, as if she’s trying to get her circulation pumping. “I can’t believe I slept that hard.”
“We did sleep on the couch last night and it’s been an intense day.”
“True,” I say. “Very true.” She scans the woods around us. “Good thing we ate before we left.”
“We have some supplies, but nothing fancy. I have chocolate and booze, though.”
“Well then,” she laughs, “we’re living like kings.” She groans. “Why’d I have to bring him into this?”
“At least you said kings and not devils, but Waters is all over our lives right now, sweetheart.” I point ahead as the wood cabin comes into view and then maneuver us close to the front door and porch. “It’s not the Ritz, but it’s cozy.” I kill the engine. “Hang tight and I’ll help you avoid the mud.” I open the door and rush out into the cold rain, drenched in about ten seconds, but I plug onward.
Pri opens her door and I scoop her up and out of the rain quickly before carrying her up the steps to set her on the porch. “I’ll grab our bags,” I say, rushing back out into the rain and returning with her bag, and shortly after, another three the guys packed for us.
“You’re dripping,” Pri worries as I unlock the cabin door and flip the switch controlling the lamp in the living room.
“I have clothes to change into and we have power which in this case means power to run the air conditioner we’ll need when the rain passes. My father pre-paid in cash for the power for several years in advance.” I push open the door and motion her inside, quickly joining her. She scans the plastic-covered couches, and fireplace, while I toss the bags to the floor by the door. “Like I said,” locking up and kneeling by my bag to pull out a change of clothes. “It’s not the Ritz.”
“I don’t need the Ritz,” she says. “I just want to stay alive.”
“The back and sides of the house are booby-trapped by the way. If anyone comes at us beyond the front door, they’re in for a painful surprise. My father knew how to cover his bases. You can feel safe here.”
“Booby traps,” she murmurs. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“We won’t need them,” I assure her, pulling off my wet T-shirt and replacing it with a dry one, then standing with a dry pair of jeans in my hands. “Kitchen,” I say, pointing to the right where a brown table sits. “One bedroom and bathroom. I’m going to go check those rooms.”
“I’ll uncover the furniture,” she offers, and I nod, heading to the back, checking things out, and then drying off before changing pants.
Once I’ve returned to the main room, I find the basic brown couches exposed and Pri kneeling by the bags. She holds up a candy bag. “We have plenty of M & M’s, I see.”
“Dessert and superpower food.”
She laughs and pulls out a bag of Cheetos. “Also superpower food.”
“You know it,” I assure her. “Now we just need whiskey. See if there’s any soda in those bags, will you? I have frozen and canned foods, if we need them to get by but Savage packed us some extras.” I walk into the dusty-ass kitchen, and find an equally dusty-ass bottle of whiskey, a couple bottles of water, and two plastic Solo cups, before returning to the living area.
Pri stands up, holding the candy, and displaying a small bottle the size of a salt shaker between her index finger and thumb. “It’s called Sweet Tea Mio, one of those flavor additives for water, and there’s a note from Savage that reads, ‘Water, Mio, whiskey. Thank me later.’”
“Savage knows his whiskey, so let’s give it a try.” I motion to the living room and we settle onto the couch. Pri’s already removed the plastic from the basic wooden coffee table and we set our haul on top. “No cable,” I say, filling our glasses with whiskey and water, while Pri adds the Mio. “But we have computers.”
“What about the internet?”
“Lucifer will give you a secure line. I have a new phone for you, and Lucifer will forward your calls to it.” I hand her a glass and lift mine. “Shall we try it?”
“I’m all in,” she says, and we both take a sip, the sweet mix of tea and whiskey a surprisingly good combination.
“I like it,” Pri says. “And I don’t even really like whiskey.” She takes another sip and leans back onto the couch cushion, facing me. “Tell me about your father.”
I lean into the couch facing her. “He was a good man, a proud man. A skilled agent. He made me want to be a better