Page 18 of Unleashed

I don’t dislike men in general. I just don’t have time for their bullshit. They’re much more trouble than they have ever been worth.

Especially this one.

“No.” His eyes flick to the placard on my console. “Who’s van is this?”

“It’s mine.” I know my plan was not to engage, but part of me wants him to know I bought this all by myself. It’s the nicest vehicle I’ve ever owned. And while it’s not nearly as luxurious as what he drives, it is pretty freaking nice. “Now can you move?”

I’m not saying please twice.

Trevor’s dark brows pinch together, like he can’t believe I actually managed to have the purchasing power for such a thing. I start to get offended, but then he asks, “Why did you get it?”

I don’t talk about my personal life at work. It’s really no one’s business. Plus, when people find out about my little sister, and then learn I’m actually raising her, they generally act like I’m some sort of saint for adopting her. And that pisses me off. Because they don’t just mean I’m a good person for adopting my sister. They mean I’m a good person for adopting my sister with special needs.

Like she’s some sort of burden.

Zara isn’t a burden. No child is.

Taking care of her isn’t what makes me a good person. Not throat punching any little kid who’s mean to her is.

“Because I liked it, and the ramp makes it way easier to move bodies.” I give him a sweet smile. “Would you like me to show you?”

I wouldn’t actually murder Trevor and roll his body into the back of my van. First of all, he’s huge. There’s no way I could get his giant ass into the back of this thing, even with the ramp. Secondly, it would probably upset Brooke. And I’d feel bad about that.

Trevor stares at me a second longer, eyes narrowed. Then, something in him shifts. The line of his mouth gets softer. The clench of his jaw relaxes. And the eyes that have been on mine up to this point, slowly glide over my body.

“Stop it.” I grab his face, forcing his focus back to mine. “Quit it, right now.”

He gives me a slow smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You dick. Yes you do.” I squeeze his jaw a little tighter, sinking my fingers into his slightly stubbly skin. “Stop thinking about what happened in the bathroom.”

He smirks. “That must be your guilty conscience talking, because I wasn’t thinking about what happened in the bathroom at all.”

“Liar.” I’ve known him long enough to understand his ways. His moods. The way what he’s thinking is usually written all over his face.

As long as you know what you’re looking for.

“You can’t read my mind, so I guess you’ll never know.” He pulls out of my grip, finally stepping back. “I could be thinking about it all day every day or never at all.” He gives me a little shrug. “Who’s to say?”

Heat races through my body at the idea of Trevor thinking about what we did. “Well if you’re doing it, stop. It’s never happening again, so you might as well forget it ever happened.”

He tucks both hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels as he shakes his head. “No.”

I scoff. “No?” I shouldn’t be shocked at his refusal. He’s just doing it to aggravate me. The worst part is, it works. Just like I know what he’s thinking, he knows how to rile me up. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean I’m not going to forget it ever happened.” His smile widens. “I’m also not in agreement that it will never happen again.”

I’ve got my next comeback locked and loaded when my cell phone pings, reminding me I still haven’t finished reading the text chain, and I still have to go home and do laundry. And make dinner. And check my sister’s thick head of hair for bugs.

“I don’t have time for this.” I grab the door he’s no longer blocking and pull it shut, locking it—just in case he gets any bright ideas—before starting the engine. I don’t look to see where he is before I pull away. Trevor’s a grown man. He should know how to get out of the way of a moving vehicle. If not…

Guess I’m going to have to figure out how to roll him up the ramp.

I check my rearview, just so I know how the rest of my evening is going. And whether it will involve hiding a body or not. My belly flips when Trevor’s eyes lock with mine in the reflection. He’s still smirking as he watches me drive away. Like he knows something I don’t know.

That’s a problem for tomorrow Maren, because I seriously don’t have time for him tonight.

Thanks to his bullshit, I’m already late, and I have to push the laws of speed past their breaking point as I rush to pick Zara up before they start charging me by the minute. I love the place that handles her afterschool care, but they don’t mess around when it comes to pickup time. They say five forty-five, and they fricking mean it.