Read Online Safer With You by Trisha Madley - Free Book Online

vanilla. I keep picturing her in the bed of my truck, her soft hair falling around her.
    For the first time, I actually enjoyed talking to a woman. She seems genuine, and not at all interested in my money, which is a welcome change. I don’t even care that we didn’t have sex. I just want to be around her. I loved being around her…until that incompetent fucker Michael Malone called.
    I think back to that stupid phone call.
    “I need your services, now. There’s been a leak. I thought he wouldn’t care, but he did. He threatened me and he’s out of control. You need to help me. Uncle Malone says you’re the only one who can control him.”  
    The last thing I wanted to do was deal with Isaac Campone. I’ve had to cover for that fucker more times than I care to count.
    This was the first time I got a call from Michael. He works for my client, Senator Malone. The senator usually deals with him when he fucks up. Michael just recently joined the team, and because he’s my client’s family, I haven’t had to deal with him yet.
    These two are just gofers, asked to do the simplest tasks, and yet fail every damn time.
    “Does this affect the senator?”
    Michael responded, “Yes, directly.”
    “Explain.”
    “I didn’t conceal the evidence well enough and he found out. He said he was done trusting me and would take care of the situation once and for all,” Michael said.
    “I’ll handle Isaac.”
    Thankfully, the situation was handled easily, and now it’s seven a.m., and I’m headed back to my Uncle Joe’s, hoping to get some sleep. Later, I plan on getting ahold of Nora. I can’t stop thinking about her.
    Before I left last night, I switched my truck for my brand new baby, a Mustang Shelby GT500. Pulling up to the main house, I see that the guest house lights are still on, even though the sun has come up. I notice a small red car parked in front and the door to the house wide open.
    I’ve been in the business for a long time, and I don’t feel right about the situation. I drive up and decide to park behind the red car. It’s eerily quiet as I exit my Mustang.
    I walk up to the driver’s side and lean over to look in and immediately wish I could erase what I see. I have seen a lot of fucked up shit, but nothing can prepare me for the sight of Nora in the passenger seat, head against the dash, covered in blood.
    I can’t move. My mind is not processing the sight in front of me. It feels like a nightmare. This isn’t real.
    My body is in slow motion as I try to yank the door open. It’s locked, so I run to the passenger side. I can’t take my eyes off of her, and I need to get to her.
    Nora’s head is face down on the dash. Her arms are dangling at her sides. I want her to be drunk or sleeping. Anything. But the fact that blood stains her hair and streaks down her arms makes that seem unlikely. Her silky pink dress from last night is also stained. Panic sets in. I’m banging on the glass and pulling at the door handle, but nothing stirs her.
    I can’t even fathom what happened to her, as questions race through my mind. How can I get her out of there? Should I? Is she alive? I’m hoping against all hope that maybe this isn’t her, but I know it is. Even though I can’t see her face, I studied her enough last night to know it’s her.
    That thought motivates me to do what I do best. I’ve broken into cars before. Hurrying to the driver’s side back door, I take off my jacket, roll it around my fist, and shatter the glass. My hand wiggles through the shards of glass, and I reach around to the front driver’s door, pull up the lock, and rip open the door.
    I lean in over to the passenger seat and shake her shoulder gently, “Nora, wake up. Can you hear me?”
    No response, no movement—nothing. I grab her wrist and check for a pulse. It’s there, but faint. As I lift her head from the dash as gently as I can manage, nothing, and I mean nothing, can prepare me for the sight before me.
    Her eyes