Maybe. . .she doesn’t need the handcuffs all the time.
She entered the bathroom and shut the door.
I stared at it.
No. It scares me to let her walk around free.
In fact, panic ripped through my chest at the very idea.
No. My plan stays. The handcuffs stay too.
Minutes passed.
She returned to the room. Instead of going straight to the bed, she went to her suitcase.
My gaze never left her.
She’s testing me.
She unzipped the bag.
I placed my hand on the night stand next to my gun.
She pulled out a black shirt and put it on. The fabric fell over her hips and past her ass, hiding most of her body from me. She dug back into the bag as if looking for pants.
I moved my hand from my gun. “That’s enough clothes for now.”
Rolling her eyes, she zipped the bag, returned to the bed, and sat next to me.
I turned to her. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
I grabbed her handcuffed wrist and pulled it toward the headboard. “I’ll make us something.”
She looked down at my hand. “What are you doing?”
I hooked the other handcuff back on the headboard’s bar. “It stays on.”
“Are you serious, Cain?”
“Give me time to trust you.”
“Then, you’ll have to give me time to trust you too.” She lay back down, grabbed Dr. Fuzzy, and shut her eyes.
I sighed. “We’re back to that?”
Silent, she didn’t move.
Alright then. Let the games begin.
Livid, I left the bed.
She didn’t open her eyes, but I knew she was hyper aware of my movements.
This is not how the day will go, Phoenix. I had plans.
I grabbed my jeans, put them on, and left the bedroom. The gaudy Greek statues greeted me. While their bodies remained stiff and their expressions lifeless, I swore their blank eyes followed me.
I’m the one in control, Phoenix.
By the time I hit the bottom level, anger boiled through me.
I should be inside of her.
Country music poured from the kitchen. It was a slow melody of guitars and violins.
I stormed in that direction.
A man sang about making love to his woman in a grassy field of daisies.
I groaned in annoyance.
Instead of this shit, Phoenix’s moans should be filling my ears.
I entered the kitchen.
Griff waved a spatula at me. “It’s about time you woke up.”
Grunting, I went to the fridge.
“How’s your prisoner?”
I glared at him. “She’s not my prisoner.”
He stared back in confusion. “She isn’t?”
I returned to the fridge and grabbed a carton of eggs. “West went shopping?”
“He did. All that you desire should be in there.”
She’s not in there.
I pulled items out to make Phoenix and me a decent breakfast.
Griff began to sing with his song.
I stifled another groan.
He chuckled. “Someone woke up in a bad mood. Married life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”
Silent, I pulled out two pans to cook.
Griff took his plate of pancakes over to the bar. “Have you checked out the job’s plan?”
“No.” I poured oil into the pans. “I gave the box to West.”
“But you are going to go over it today?”
“Of course I am.”
With that, Griff returned to chomping on his pancakes and humming his country songs.
I focused on putting together homemade potatoes.
Later, West came in. “The job looks good. Have you checked it out yet?”
I put bacon into the pan with the potatoes. “You have it.”
“I read the file last night and then put it over there.” West pointed to the dining table in the other room. “You haven’t read it yet?”
I flipped the potatoes. “I just woke up.”
“Really?” West checked his watch. “This is late for you.”
I grabbed plates from the cabinet. “It was a long night and morning.”
“But you usually only sleep two or three hours.”
“That was because Phoenix was gone.”
“You didn’t sleep much before her either.”
Griff mumbled, “That’s true.”
“I’ll check the file later.” I set the plates on the counter. “Get off my dick.”
Laughter left Griff . “Wow. Someone’s in a serious mood. No one is on your dick, Mr. Grumpy.”
West chuckled. “You do realize that when Johnny says twenty million, he’s only talking about our cut. The whole job is forty million.”
Griff whistled.
“Exactly.” West put his thumb up. “I want to do it. That money will set us up for life.”
“We could put ten million away for Erin and the kids.” Griff forked several pieces of pancakes. “Then, we can split the other ten million three ways.”
West nodded. “I’m down for that. A little over three million will serve me right. Especially, if my brothers and sisters are taken care of.”
I cracked eggs and dropped them in the pan. “Did you miss the part about the Syndicate owning it?”
West shrugged. “We haven’t gotten caught yet.”
“Because we haven’t fucked with the Syndicate.”
“Or because we’re that good.”
“Then, why push our luck?” I plated the potatoes and bacon. “Twenty million means nothing if we’re buried six feet deep.”
West held his hands to the side. “So, we’re not going to do it?”