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Angel asked, “What is it?”
“Serenity is a bondage club.” Melanie gave me a judgment-filled look. “We’re not going back there. Let’s take my sister home.”
Her voice had all sorts of disdain dripping off her words, as though she were asking,What the fuck is wrong with Cook that he would take my sister there?
Why was she acting like I was a kid? I wasn’t, and I could use my body how I wanted. For once, this was my choice and there was nothing wrong with it. Roni had said her friend went to Serenity. One of the other bikers in the club went to Serenity too. Cook and I weren’t weird or alone.
“But Cook,” I pushed.
“I’ll text him, jeez,” muttered Melanie, picking her cell phone.
I tried to peek at what she texted, but she had her cell phone angled away. She typed too long to simply say she was taking me home. She was probably saying something about Serenity. How fucking embarrassing.
When Angel pulled the Mini Cooper up in front of Cook’s house, I placed my nose against the window, searching for Cook’s motorcycle. It wasn’t here. There wasn’t a light on in the house either. Melanie opened the backseat door I had been leaning on, and if I wasn’t still wearing my seat belt, I would’ve fallen out onto the rusty dirt.
Once I unbuckled and stood, I fumbled with my keys to the house, the only item in my tiny purse except my cell phone. My hands were still shaking from Serenity and Cook being missing.
Finally, I lined up the key and slid it into the lock.
Inside, I uselessly searched for Cook. No matter how many lights I switched on, he was nowhere to be found, not that I expected him to be sitting in the dark. Shit, where was he?
Angel blew out a low whistle. “Stuff has changed around here.”
I ignored him and kicked off my boots. This was our home. We had worked hard over the last few weeks to make it ours.
Melanie wandered to the far wall, frowning, and I got a bottle of water from the fridge. What else would she judge me about? She didn’t like Serenity and wanted me to leave Cook. She lowered herself to stare at a black and white photograph, narrowing her gaze. I drank the water greedily, but the need to be a good host bubbled up with every gulp.
Cook would expect me to be a good host, no matter how uncomfortable it made me.
“These are nice,” murmured Mel.
I snorted. “Sure.”
“They are,” said Mel, straightening. “You really have an eye for photography.”
I scrutinized my sister. I should have wanted to spend more time with her and trust her, but she got to live a good life. She got to date and follow her dreams. And what did I get?
Rape. Torture. Cages.
With Cook, I was finally free. Days and weeks after being freed from Signora, I was finally able to choose my own life.
“Is Cook helping you with these?” asked Mel, pointing to the photographs.
“Yeah,” I said over the lump in my throat. She didn’t care about what mattered right now. Where the fuck was he? I looked down at my cell phone, still gripped in my hand. It remained quiet. He hadn’t called me back. Hadn’t even texted.
“How new are they?” asked Melanie.
I arched my eyebrow at her and then scanned my surroundings. My house. Cook’s house. Our house. They needed to leave.
“Oooo-kay?” Mel sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you taking photos. I was so focused on... on you.”
That was why she showed up unannounced, unwanted. What didn’t she get about that?
Angel cleared his throat. The white light of his cell phone fluttered across his face. “Shit.”
He slipped it in his cut pocket as Mel and I looked over at him, mirror images of each other. The likeness between us made my guts clench. I hated that we looked so alike on the outside when everything about us was different.
“I gotta head to Bou’s shop. Lanie, you good here?”
