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It’s his phone’s turn to ring, and I take it as the escape needed to head into the kitchen and finish up the “drive-by” meal.
40
Well-Oiled and Poorly Behaved
Kale
Ididn’t sleep a wink.
Instead, I have been parked outside of the Captain’s house waiting…
I don’t have a plan. No idea what I’m going to do when I see her.
I imagine she won’t be here until right at 5pm. What will she do? Does she really plan on shooting him?
Should I tell the Captain?
Except, there’s a reason Reuben wants him dead.
I tap the steering wheel a few more times, staring at his house. There are fifteen steep steps that lead up to his front door, and a large brick wall that surrounds his property.
And I take in the home on the hill. The size, the area, the realization that he couldn’t have afforded this on a Captain’s salary.
He can’t be dirty… He’s the only reason I was able to get out…
Cinnamon’s familiar car rounds the corner. My eyes flick to the clock.
It’s 4:45 p.m.
Why is she early?
She swings to the bottom of the steps and slams into park.
My confusion peaks.
What is she doing?
And then she flings herself out of the car, grabs a bunch of to-go containers from the back seat, and shuts the door with her hip.
The top container wobbles but doesn’t fall.
Is that food?
She looks at the stairs and curses under her breath before taking them one at a time.
Without thought, I slink out of my car, closing it silently behind me, and creep towards the wall. I want to see what her plans are. Decide if I should stop her.
She wobbles and wriggles all the way to the top, and it takes an incredible amount of self-control to pull my attention from her ass and to whatever the fuck she is doing.
She bends over to set the containers down, and as she does, her chest knocks against the top.
It topples over, and I wince as it lands on his front stoop.
I can’t hear her cursing, but I can feel it. Her head pivots behind, towards me, and I slip behind the wall.
I wait a few beats before poking my head out again.
Her shirt is off.
