Burn (Bayonet Scars #5)

“Well, maybe it wouldn’t be wrong if I use it to spruce up my new house,” I argue. With myself. Aloud. I’m going from silly goose to total whackadoodle pretty quickly.

Without any more thought on the subject, I grab the purse, open it, and find the money is still there. It’s a big purse and carries well, so I shove my sunglasses, wristlet, and phone inside and stride out of the closet trying not to feel guilty. He’s said it a million times—he doesn’t care what I do with the cash. I bet he doesn’t even realize I still have this much since he refuses to even talk about money. He gets this grouchy voice and says, “I’m taking care of you, babe. I stop giving you what you need, then we talk about money. Until then, shut up about it.”

I don’t have my keys to lock up the house, so I don’t even try. They’ve been missing for days now. I even asked Ian if he’s seen them, but he just brushed me off and said I didn’t need keys to the house or my car. For someone so morose all the time, he is so deliciously possessive about certain things. I’d rather he take me on his bike over driving my car any day, but still, I don’t like leaving the house unlocked. If I wait for him, I don’t want to stress over it, but I’ve waited long enough. The man is ditching out on birthday time with me, and that’s just not cool.

I try to calm myself about leaving the house unlocked. It’s not like anybody is going to find themselves out here in the woods and walk right into the cabin at random on the one day it’s not locked up. Plus, anybody who knows the cabin is here likely knows who it belongs to, and they can’t be stupid enough to steal from Forsaken.

“You used his toothbrush, and now you’re going to get his house robbed. Score one point for being awesome, Mindy.” As I make my way through the woods and then across the field that separates the cabin from Ruby and Jim’s house, I continue to argue with myself about taking the money and then leaving the house unlocked. I’ve only ever been good at being bad when I was high or drunk. The rest of the time I’m way too neurotic to really pull it off.

Just as I’m passing the barn, almost to the house, I see a petite figure standing on the back deck. It takes me a moment of focusing on the person’s frame before I realize it’s Alex. She’s got a coffee mug in her hands and is taking slow sips from it. I’m surprised that they’re letting her stand out here unguarded. Nic’s told me how much she misses Alex. The more dangerous things get around here, the less she gets out. Ryan has apparently kept her under lock and key. The more I get to know Ryan, the more I see him as a brother, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see the man is fine as fuck. If I didn’t have Ian, I might be cool with him locking me away.

“Hey!” Alex says with a wave in my direction.

I wave back and give her a smile, hoping she doesn’t think it’s weird that I’m just kind of appearing out of nowhere. I never come to the house without Ian or without Alex or Ruby coming to get me. I know we’re right on the other side of the woods from the house and technically on the same plot of land, but I don’t feel comfortable just popping by yet.

I make it within twenty feet or so of the back deck before I realize that she’s not alone. Lying in the sun beside her, with its face lying on its paws, is a pit bull. Its eyes are focused on me, and its butt is raised in the air. It emits a low, fierce growl. I pause, afraid that the dog looks like it’s about to rush at me. This is the other reason I don’t make a habit out of dropping by unannounced. The first time I came by, Ruby told me I was lucky the dog didn’t try to tear my leg off. Apparently they keep highly bred guard dogs on site. Or they did. Now they’re down to just one.

But not for long. That’s the other awesome thing about today—puppies. Well, not puppies, but Ian and I are heading out and picking up the new guard dogs from the breeder. The man promised me a dog, and today he’s making good on that promise. Every time I bring up something he doesn’t want to talk about, he redirects my attention by talking puppies, which is totally unfair because it works so well.