Hemi watches me closely. I can see that his mind is whirling behind his eyes and it makes me tense as I wait.
“I think I could do that. We could start you out doing some original sketches then work you up to doing stencils. Then, eventually, to using the gun on skin.”
I’m thrilled for several reasons, not the least of which is the amount of time this means I’ll get to spend with Hemi.
“That would be fantastic! And I really appreciate it.”
He gives me a tight smile as he absently runs his fingers over the words that I drew on his side. “My pleasure.” He holds my gaze for a few more seconds before he looks away, almost uncomfortably. “I’m gonna run out and get us some supplies. Toothbrush, toothpaste, things like that. Do you need anything?”
I don’t know why, but I get the feeling he’s anxious to get away from me.
“No, I’ll be fine until we get home tomorrow. Toothbrush and toothpaste is plenty.”
Hemi nods. “I’m gonna put my clothes back on and then I’ll hit the road.”
I nod as well and he disappears back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. When he reemerges, he holds up his phone. “What’s your number? I’ll text you from my phone so you can call if you need anything?”
I think it’s an odd request since he’s only going out for a couple of things. How long does he plan to be gone?
I keep my thoughts to myself, however, and I’m as casual as I can be when I give him my number. He taps it into his phone and a few seconds later, mine chirps with an incoming text. It says simply, “Hemi.”
Then, with a rushed Be right back, he’s gone. I wait for about half an hour, wide awake, before I scoot down in the bed to get more comfortable. It’s then that the events of the day catch up to me and my eyes get heavy.
I don’t know when I fell asleep, but when I wake, all the lights are off in the room but for the lamp on the desk. I see Hemi sitting there, sketching something onto the complementary notepad. His head is bent and his face is intense in the soft, direct light. I roll over to look at the clock. It’s twenty minutes after two. When I glance back to Hemi, his head is up and his eyes are on me. He says nothing and neither do I. I just lie back down, closing my eyes and trying to push thoughts of him out of my head so I can go back to sleep.
And, sometime later, I do.
Finally.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Hemi
Sloane has been quiet all morning. I’m sure she’s responding to me disappearing for a while last night. I needed to go get my head together, think things through. Seeing those letters on my side reminded me of my goal, my mission. And, even though I like Sloane and I feel guilty for what I’m doing to her, it’s what I have to do. Period. If I told her, she might even understand it. Then again, she might not. But I’ll never know because I can’t tell her. I can’t trust her with it. She could ruin everything and that’s a risk I just can’t take.
As soon as she woke up and said her leg was feeling much better, I suggested we get on the road. It’s Saturday, so she might not have plans, but I do. I need to get back to work. And now I need sleep, since I got none last night.
When we are about an hour outside Savannah, it starts to sprinkle rain, so I turn down the music and pull off onto the shoulder to put up the top. It’s as I’m easing back onto the highway that I hear a grumbling sound.
“Shit, damn, piss! I’m such an ass**le!” I say aloud as I start surveying signs we pass along the interstate.
“What?” Sloane asks me, her expression puzzled. “Why are you an ass**le?”
“You haven’t even had breakfast. And I’m sure you’re hungry.”
She shrugs. “I’m fine. I’ll live.”
“Stop being so agreeable. You need to speak up, tell me what you want.”
“Seriously, I’m fine. It’s not a—”
She’s so sweet and understanding and it only makes me feel worse about what I did. What I’m doing. “Look, I feel like shit and you’re just making it worse. Call me a selfish bastard. Tell me to stop the car and get some food in your damn stomach. Punch me in the leg. Do something!” My rant comes out angrier than I intended. I can tell that by the stung expression that now clouds Sloane’s features.
“Fine,” she says. She pauses for a second before she reaches across the seat and punches me in the leg. And it’s no light little girl punch either. This is a punch she probably gives that Sasquatch brother of hers. “Stop at the next restaurant and get me some breakfast, you selfish bastard.”
There’s sincerity in her voice, so much so that it leads me to believe she has some aggression of her own to get out, no doubt a product of last night.
“I didn’t say you had to do it all,” I mutter, teasing her. “Damn.”
She glares at me for a few seconds. I stare back, wearing my most wounded expression. Finally, she relents and smiles.
“Sorry. I get grouchy when I’m hungry.”
“Grouchy? The hell you say! You’re mean as a snake!”
She laughs and slaps my arm playfully. “I am not.”
“Now I’m gonna have to explain why I have a limp.”
She rolls her eyes, but her face looks more relaxed, which was my goal. It won’t do me a bit of good to alienate her at this point. I need her. And I need her to be able to talk to me.
I see a sign for an IHOP, so I take that exit. Within a few minutes, we are seated in a booth with menus in our hands.
After we order and the waitress brings us coffee, Sloane says conversationally, “I don’t blame you for forgetting breakfast.”
“And why is that?”
“You said you’re not the breakfast kind of guy.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“I’m flattered that you’d make an exception for me.”
“We didn’t sleep together, so this doesn’t count.”
“So you don’t take the girls you have sex with out for breakfast?”
“Nope.”
“And why is that?”
I shrug. “I just don’t have the time or the inclination to get that…involved with anybody.” Sloane doesn’t meet my eyes. She blows carefully into her mug to cool her coffee before she takes a sip. I take the opportunity to change the subject. “So, tell me about this family of yours.”
She sighs. “Well, I have three brothers. They’re all cops. My father is, too. To say they’re overprotective would be like calling the Gulf of Mexico a puddle of rain.”