Gingerly, she moved her tongue over her busted lip, listening to find out if the man she’d met outside that ramshackle grocery had returned. He’d been gone for hours, or so she thought. She couldn’t say with any certainty. Before he left, he’d given her another shot. She’d been floating in euphoria for God knows how long. As a result, she wasn’t aware of who was in the house with her or how much time had passed. She couldn’t even tell if it was day or night. She had only one frame of reference: she could remember being driven to an old pueblo-style house that sat on hard-packed dirt with the desert stretching for miles beyond it. The windows had been blacked out, the place had smelled like mildew and there’d been plenty of BDSM toys in the bedroom—along with a video camera.
“Dick?” Her voice sounded more like a croak. But she didn’t care. She was trying to remember if Dick was even his name.
No answer. Running water droned in her ear. When she listened carefully, she was pretty sure it was the toilet in the bathroom.
“Dick?” She lifted her head, trying to see if the video camera was rolling, but there was no way to tell. He’d left the overhead light on, but she couldn’t see a red indicator on the camera.
She called his name two more times, louder, and tried to move but found that her right arm was still shackled to the headboard. What the hell? How dare he leave her like this? How would she get free?
She was just starting to tug in earnest, despite the pain caused by the slightest movement, when she saw a key on the nightstand. She could unlock herself and leave. But beside it was a syringe containing a brownish liquid and a note that read, “Have a good time while I’m gone. Merry Christmas.”
28
The Christmas feast Dylan had bought was tasty despite the fact that it wasn’t homemade. And, after running home to get cinnamon and cloves, Cheyenne had managed to bake a coffee cake and an apple pie, which everyone seemed to like. Everything would’ve been fairly idyllic—as idyllic as could be expected under the circumstances—if not for Aaron’s morose mood. His gloom overrode the excitement of the new smartphones Dylan had purchased for each of his brothers. Mack and the others showed a great deal of interest, but Aaron would barely touch his. He seemed preoccupied and upset, and that made it impossible for Cheyenne to forget the reason.
Not long after they ate, she went home. Dylan walked her to the door and promised to come over later but returned to his brothers. She was glad. She felt Aaron and Mack needed his attention. Also, she was planning to call Eve, and she figured it would be better to have some time alone for that.
But even after she and Lucky had gone in and she’d locked up it took her several minutes to work up the nerve. So much had changed since Eve left that Cheyenne had no confidence she’d be able to explain what it all meant.
She tried Presley’s number first, but was immediately transferred to voice mail, which suggested the battery was dead or the phone had been turned off.
The same thing had occurred the last hundred times she’d called. With a sigh, she forced herself to dial Eve’s cell instead.
“Don’t tell me this is my best friend calling,” Eve said without preamble.
Cheyenne cringed at her wounded tone. “I’m sorry, Eve.”
Silence.
“Did Riley tell you about this morning?”
“Yes. And I can’t believe it.”
Lucky was sniffing around her feet, trying to climb into her lap. Cheyenne reached down to help her. “I need you to trust my judgment,” she said. “I…I really need that.”
“I don’t want to see you hurt, Chey.”
“I understand. The fact that you’d give up Joe, the man you like, rather than see me with Dylan tells me how sincere you are. But Dylan is a good person. Even if he’s not perfect, neither am I. I believe…I believe he’s the right man for me.”
“Wow.” Eve sounded shocked. “I’ve never heard you talk like this.”
Her puppy curled up in her lap and laid its head on her thigh. “Because I’ve never felt like this.”
“I have to admit—that threatens me in a whole new way.”
Encouraged that Eve seemed to be bending, Cheyenne hurried to reassure her. “You have no reason to feel threatened.”
“I don’t? You get with Dylan and suddenly I’m not even important enough for you to answer my calls.”
“That wasn’t it at all. I…” She ran her fingers through Lucky’s fur, taking solace in the feel of it. “I couldn’t bear to hear you tell me not to see Dylan.”
“He’s that important to you? Already?”
She smiled, as she did every time she thought of him. “I’m in love.”
It took Eve a few seconds to absorb this news. “Oh, boy,” she said when she spoke again. “And we were going to stage an intervention.”
“Please don’t. Don’t even try. I need him. Especially now. My life’s a mess. I’m still getting my bearings. But I have two things going for me.”
“Those are…”
Cheyenne felt the wet rasp of Lucky’s tongue. “You—and him.”
A sniff showed that Eve was crying.
“Can’t you just…support me even if I’m wrong?”
“Of course. We’re best friends.” She sniffed again. “If it turns out to be a good decision, I’m here to celebrate with you. And if it turns out to be a bad one—”
“You can say ‘I told you so.’”
“No. Then you’ll need me even more.”
“Do you mean that?” Cheyenne asked. “There’ll be no more talk about making the biggest mistake of my life and taking unnecessary risks and…and interventions?”
“Riley said an intervention wouldn’t do any good, anyway.”
“He’s right.” She tried to lighten the moment with a laugh. “Nothing can save me now.”
Emboldened, Lucky stood to lick her face. Cheyenne raised her chin so the dog wouldn’t be able to reach the phone, which made her bark.
“What was that?” Eve asked.
Cheyenne urged Lucky to lie down again. “My Christmas present from Dylan.”
“He gave you a dog?”
“A puppy.”
Eve sighed audibly. “Okay. He wins.”
Cheyenne smiled. “You’re going to like Dylan. You’ll see. All you have to do is give him a chance.”