Page 53 of Rescued By Midnight

“No way.” He shakes his head and walks past me toward the kitchen.

His t-shirt is tucked weirdly into his jeans.

Anger overcomes me, and I have to say something. “Did you make her give you head?”

“The fuck?” He looks back at me over his shoulder. “I didn’t make her do anything—what kind of fucked-up rapist do you think I am?”

I shouldn’t have hit him so hard with that accusation, but anger has me saying shit I don’t mean. Rather than make things worse, I keep my mouth closed.

He laughs. “Are you mad that I made a move? Or are you mad that I made a move without you?”

“Fuck you, Wells.” But his words have me thinking. Which is it? Alice is in a vulnerable place. She’s still technically married—even if that marriage is a sham created by her so-called church. So I’m mad he made a move.

And I’m mad he did it without me, because fuck if I don’t want her, too.

He opens the fridge and pulls out a beer. “Do I need your approval for everything, or are we partners who trust each other?”

There’s no trust where Alice is concerned.

“I would do anything for her,” I say.

“So would I. So when she was sitting there, getting turned on at the thought of messing around with us, I took her needs into account. And I talked her through getting off. You should smell my car now, Sprechter. So fucking sweet, like coconut candy.”

Fury rushes through my veins, dulled only by how fucking hard my dick is at the thought of Alice getting off in front of Cody.

“Here’s the problem,” I say.

He raises his eyebrows and takes a long, slow sip of his beer. “Yeah? I’m waiting.”

“The problem is that she’s traumatized, and she’s special. And I want something that lasts with her, but you don’t know what the fuck that looks like anymore. That’s why I’m mad, dickhead.”

I don’t wait for him to respond, but I catch a glimpse of his surprised face before I spin around and leave the kitchen. Let him think on that for a while.

We both have a lot to think about.

ALICE - NOW

Every time I close my eyes, I see Brayden’s face twisted with anger, his hand up, palm open.

It wouldn’t have been a light slap, though; it would’ve been the kind of hit to knock me over.

He’s never done that before.

Then again, I’ve never talked back to him like that before.

Is this what he’s always like when he doesn’t get his way?

I just wish I could get his face out of my head. It’s terrifying.

Maybe Landon’s still up. I throw on a light sweatshirt because my personal rule is no bras after ten p.m. and I don’t want to terrify him with my boobs loose in a t-shirt.

I sneak out of my room, hoping I don’t run into Cody. I’m not sure how to face him now. He acted like everything was cool, like what we did in the car isn’t a big deal.

Maybe it isn’t to him, but it’s a big freaking deal to me. And I’m not ready to see him yet.

The hallway is empty, so I go straight to Landon’s door and knock quietly. I hold my breath, waiting to see if he’ll answer. This is probably wrong. I shouldn’t be knocking on a man’s bedroom door at night.

I turn around, grateful he hasn’t answered. He’s probably asleep.