by M. S. Parker
A part of me still couldn’t believe that I’d had sex. With Slade. This couldn’t be real. But it was real. All the nerves and anxiety that had disappeared last night came back with a vengeance now. I closed my eyes and started taking slow breaths.
Before total panic set in, something else caught my attention.
The smell of food.
My stomach growled loudly, and I remembered that I hadn’t eaten dinner yesterday. When I’d rationed out what I had left in the cabinets, there hadn’t been enough for both Austin and me through the weekend. I’d planned on shopping this morning with whatever money I had left.
I needed to go.
I slid out of bed, taking the sheet with me as I looked for my clothes. Which were nowhere to be found. What the hell had he done with my clothes? Had I been completely off in thinking that I was safe with him? Was he some sort of freak who lured women back to his place for sex and then took their clothes, so they couldn’t leave?
“Cheyenne? You up?”
Who else would it be? I kept my snarky comment to myself. Clothes were more important. “Yeah.”
“I tossed your clothes in the washer,” he said. “I figured you might like something clean to wear home. The bathroom is across the hall, and I put fresh towels in there for you.”
Was he kidding? Who did that for a one-night stand? Especially considering everything he’d done for me already.
He couldn’t be for real.
“Feel free to wear something of mine while your clothes are finishing up. I have bacon and eggs whenever you’re done.”
“Um…thanks.” It sounded as lame coming from my mouth as it had in my head, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Based on the happy whistling coming from the kitchen, I assumed Slade was fine with that bit of gratitude. I tried not to wonder if he’d expect anything else from me before I left, but even as I pushed the thoughts from my head, I knew it wouldn’t matter. If he wanted me to give him a blow job in exchange for the shower and breakfast, I wouldn’t even think twice. Hell, I’d probably enjoy it, even if it had been nothing more than me choosing someone who hadn’t tried to take it from me. We weren’t a couple. Just because he was a nice guy didn’t mean anything.
I let the hot water soothe my mind as much as it did my muscles. The white noise was pleasantly numbing, chasing away all those annoying thoughts that made me tense. By the time I wrapped up my hair with one towel and wrapped another one around my body, I’d calmed down enough to be able to think through what needed to happen next. I’d get dressed, eat some breakfast, then thank him for everything he’d done, change into my own clothes and then head home. Once I was there, I could freak out about everything.
As I rifled through his top drawer for a pair of boxers I could wear with his massive t-shirt, however, I found something that left me stunned.
My first thought was that I’d been wrong about why he’d taken my clothes. Now, it looked like it was to keep me from sneaking out before he arrested me. I’d known plenty of women who’d gotten busted for solicitation after the cop had sex with them. But then I looked closer and saw that he wasn’t a cop.
He worked for the Drug Enforcement Agency.
I’d spent the night with a DEA agent.
Fuck my life.
Seventeen
Slade
Yesterday, I’d been riding a high after an amazing night. We had breakfast together, then I’d taken her back to her place, and while we hadn’t talked much, I’d felt a connection.
This morning, however, as I walked into work, I was starting to wonder how much of that connection was in my head. How much I’d talked myself into thinking there was something between us, so I wouldn’t feel like a complete dick for taking her virginity.
I’d had the best intentions when I’d brought her back to my place. I’d planned on showing her to my guest room and letting her have a quiet night to herself. Then she’d told me she was a virgin, and that she wanted me…and all those good intentions had flown right out the window.
I was a jackass. A horrible, advantage-taking asshole who should have been thinking about protecting her instead of having sex with her.
And I was still thinking about sex with her.
The way she’d come apart under me. The clean, salty taste of her. The soft silk of her skin. The faint scent of apples underneath it all.
“You look like you had a weird weekend,” Joey said as she handed me a cup of coffee. “Like you had fun but are now starting to think that you made some questionable decisions.”
She had no idea.
“Shit, Hunter,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “What the hell did you do?”
I took a drink of my coffee, wincing as it burnt my tongue. At least that meant I didn’t have to taste it. No matter who made the coffee, it always tasted like someone had used their ass as a filter.
“I didn’t do anything,” I lied. “I mean, it was pretty much just what you were there for at the bar.”
“Mm-hm.” Joey drained the rest of her coffee. “I seem to remember you and Neely talking about heading somewhere else. You sure you didn’t do something stupid.”
“What about you?” When in doubt, deflect. “You were the one being all mysterious about your ‘date.’ Maybe you’re the one who did something stupid.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “You are so predictable, Slade, you know that?”
“Did Slade get laid?” Ramon asked as he joined us at my desk. “Cuz it’s been a couple weeks, and the only time you go that long without sex is when you’ve found someone you want to date. Which means, unless you’re keeping us out of the loop on your dating life, you better have gotten lucky.”
“Did Slade get some too?”
Shit. Neely.
“Too?” Joey echoed. “What the hell did the two of you do?”
Neely had one of those obnoxious shit-eater grins that always made me want to slap him. For once, though, I was glad to see him. Maybe him talking about his conquest would take the attention off me.
“I took Slade to DDD.” He slapped my back. “Those bitches were all over me.”
“A strip club.” Joey gave me a look. “I thought you were better than that.”
I shrugged. “Apparently not. I’m just a guy, right?”
Ramon sat at his desk, turning the chair around so he was facing me. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a strip club.”
“I’ve never really had a problem with getting girls to take their clothes off for me,” I said honestly.
Joey narrowed her eyes. “You’re a prick.”
“The girls at DDD were banging. Great ti–” Neely glanced at Joey. “Great bodies, but he barely looked at them. I got this one chick, a rack and a half right in my face, this great ass bouncing on my lap, and he just drinks his beer and keeps staring at some waitress.”
Shit.
I’d completely forgotten that he’d been there to see Cheyenne. He should’ve been too drunk to have noticed me paying attention to her, but maybe he wasn’t as stupid as I thought.
“Do you guys know who owns DDD?” I changed the subject. “Fernando Sanchez.”
“Sanchez?” Ramon scowled. “I thought he was some two-bit punk.”
I shook my head. “He’s worked his way up the last few years, but he’s done it quietly.”
“Who’s Fernando Sanchez?” Joey asked.
“A drug dealer and a pimp,” I said, not even bothering to hide my contempt. “He uses the strip club as a front.”
“I don’t know about that,” Neely said, his face turning red. “It could be legit.”
Shit. “Did you, or did you not, get a ‘private lap dance’ that turned into you paying her for sex?”
Neely’s expression went dark. “What are you accusing me of?”
“Did you pay a stripper for sex?” Ramon asked, pitching his voice low. “Neely, please tell me that you didn’t.”
“Of course I didn’t,” he said, l
ooking everywhere but at us. “I paid a stripper for a lap dance. That’s not illegal.”
“You said you got laid,” I pointed out. “That was someone else?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not exactly.”
I groaned. “Neely. You didn’t.”
“I swear,” he said, both hands up in defense. “I paid her for the lap dance. The sex just happened.”
“You’re an idiot,” Joey said. “Men and their dicks. Do you guys ever think with anything else?”
“Like you’ve never made a stupid mistake for sex,” Neely said sullenly.
“Not that stupid,” she countered.
“I thought we were talking about Slade getting laid over the weekend anyway,” he said, nodding in my direction, the muscle in his jaw popping in agitation. “I’m sure that’s more interesting than my sex life.”
Joey and Ramon looked at me.
“I thought we were going to talk about Fernando Sanchez,” I said. “Besides, Neely said it himself, I wasn’t interested in the strippers.”
“You were interested in that pink-haired waitress.”
I glared at him.
“What? You were. And she was kinda cute.” He shrugged, both shoulders going up to his ears. “I mean, if you’re into the whole waif thing. Personally, I’m not into that sort of thing. I prefer my women with some curves.”
“Really? That’s where you’re going with this conversation?” Ramon said.
“Guys!” I leaned forward. “Can we please focus? The last I checked, our job was to stop drug dealers. Fernando is a drug dealer.”
Who just happened to be trying to blackmail the girl I cared – no. He was trying to blackmail a decent girl into something she never wanted. I’d become a DEA agent to help people. Now, I was going to help Cheyenne.
Eighteen
Cheyenne
I never thought I’d be thankful that Rhoda had fired me, but at this moment, I was.
I brushed Austin’s dark hair back from his face, and he looked up at me, as miserable as I’d ever seen him. I’d gone out yesterday morning to look for a second job, leaving him with Iva again when Estrada told me she was sick, and at some time after midnight, I’d woken up to the sound of him vomiting. Whatever Estrada had, it seemed Austin caught. I just hoped I could avoid it, or I was going to be in an even worse position this Friday than I already was.
I put the back of my hand on his forehead, but I couldn’t tell if he had a fever, or if he was just hot from the exertion that came with a stomach bug. I’d tried everything I could think of to settle his stomach. Crackers. Ginger ale. Juice. Water. Nothing stayed down, and I knew that wasn’t good. Even children could go a couple days without eating, but dehydration was a very real threat.
I shifted his weight to give me better access to his hand. After he was born, I’d done some research about basic first aid, things that parents should know. He wasn’t my son, but I was the only parent either of us had. One of the things I’d learned was how to tell if someone was dehydrated or not. I pinched the skin on the back of his hand, frowning as it stuck. Tenting. That meant he needed fluids, but I couldn’t get him to keep anything down.
I needed to get him to the hospital. The free clinic down the street wasn’t going to do shit for him, and the closest urgent care was a joke. If it’d been just for me, I would’ve taken the chance, but I wouldn’t do that when it came to Austin’s health.
By sheer luck, the ER was relatively deserted when I carried Austin in, and we were taken right back. I breathed a prayer of thanks as I followed the nurse to a room.
“How long has he been vomiting?” she asked as she checked his temperature.
“Since around midnight.” I twisted my hair back and up. One of the reasons I preferred the free clinic for most things was because they didn’t ask questions about how old I was and my relation to Austin. I needed the doctors to see me as Austin’s mother without having to lie about it. “His usual babysitter had to call off yesterday because she was sick. I think he might have caught what she had.”
She gave me a distracted smile. “Does he have diarrhea?”
I nodded. “When he was sick before, I was able to get him to drink some ginger ale, but this time, he can’t keep anything down.”
“He was sick like this another time recently?”
“Last Friday. He threw up a couple times, but it didn’t last as long, and like I said, he was able to keep liquid down.” I folded my arms to keep from reaching for him. The fact that he just lay there, looking around, rather than trying to get up and move, told me just how awful he felt.
The nurse left, promising that the doctor would be in to see us soon. She was right. We only had to wait a few minutes before the physician swept in.
“You were right to bring him in,” the doctor said after listening to his heart and lungs. “He’s dehydrated. I’m going to get an IV started and then we’ll try to figure out what’s causing the problem.”
“You don’t think it’s the stomach flu?”
She kept working as she talked. “The stomach flu is a common misconception. Since he was vomiting a few days ago, then was fine, and is now doing it again, it could be something in his environment.”
My stomach dropped. “You think he’s sick because of something at home?”
“You’d be surprised the things kids can get into,” she said. “Even long-time parents show up here because someone got into something.”
I did a mental scan of the apartment. “I don’t keep anything out where he can get into it.” I dropped my face in my hands. This was all my fault. I’d done something wrong. “I have locks on all the cabinets, the refrigerator, and the trash cans are all in cupboards. I don’t keep bug killer or anything like that in the apartment at all.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said kindly. “We can’t think of every little thing.”
But I had thought of everything. I’d been the one to pick up Mom’s cigarette butts and beer bottles. I’d made sure she kept all her shit up high where Austin couldn’t get it.
“Hey there.”
The doctor’s voice changed, and I knew Austin had woken up. I moved closer, and he smiled when he saw me.
“If you can get him to talk to you, that would help,” she said quietly. “Let him know that he’s not in trouble. Many times, fear of punishment keeps children from giving us important information.”
I nodded but didn’t look away from Austin. “Hi, sweetie,” I said. “You’re in the hospital, and the doctors are going to help you feel better.”
“It hurts,” he said, pointing at the IV.
“I know,” I said, blinking back tears. “But it’s going to help you, okay? It’s giving you medicine.”
He nodded solemnly.
“Now, sweetie, I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to tell me the truth. You’re not in trouble. You just have to tell me.” I smoothed back his hair again. “Did you eat something you weren’t supposed to?”
His bottom lip trembled, and then he nodded. “Iva gave me treats.”
I glanced at the doctor. “Iva’s his backup babysitter.” I turned my attention back to Austin. “What treats? The cookies?”
He shook his head, sliding his eyes away from me as he muttered something.
“What was that?” I asked, straining to hear.
He still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Milkshake.”
“I’m going to kill her,” I muttered. To Austin, I said, “Thank you, sweetie. Now I want you to close your eyes and rest.”
He nodded, his eyelids already drooping.
“I’ve told her before that he’s allergic to milk,” I said to the doctor. “I don’t even keep it in the house. Austin’s usually good about doing what he’s told, but he was a four-year-old who wanted to be able to eat ice cream and drink milkshakes like his friends.
“I’ll order some tests,” the doctor said. “It was likely the milkshake, but I’d rather be sure.”
“Thank you.” I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was still early, but I was supposed to work tonight.
“I want to admit him,” she said. “Keep an eye on him for any other possible allergic reactions, make sure he stays hydrated.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “How long?”
“Overnight. There’s paperwork you need to fill out, and you can stay with him as much as you like.”
“I’d like to stay the whole time,” I said honestly. “But I can’t miss work tonight.”
“I understand,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “Being a single parent is hard.”
My shoulders sagged in relief. She wasn’t going to think I was a horrible person when I left tonight.
Well, as long as she didn’t find out I was working at a strip club. Even if I said I was a waitress, when people heard strip club, they assumed the worst. If it hadn’t been for Slade, it would’ve been the worst.
I pushed thoughts of Slade out of my head. This wasn’t the time or place to be thinking about him. Austin was my priority.
I knew I couldn’t avoid Fernando all night, but I was determined to try. He’d followed me almost my entire shift on Monday, not even bothering to be subtle about it. I’d ignored all the comments he’d made, and the looks I’d gotten from the people who’d heard him. I didn’t care what they thought of me, but I couldn’t deny that some of his remarks hit me a little harder than I liked. No matter how I wanted to look at it, the truth was, Slade had paid Fernando, and I’d had sex with Slade.
I made it until eleven o’clock without being cornered by Fernando, but when I came into the back room at the end of my shift, he was waiting.
“You’re not working tomorrow, so two more days and you got a payment due,” he said, pushing off from the wall he was leaning on. “After last week, I’m thinking I been taking it easy on you. I underestimated how much your cunt’s worth.”
