Blended (Redemption #1) (4 page)

I was delivered to the front of Stafford’s where my suitcases were patiently waiting for me on the sidewalk. Lawson greeted me with a nauseating grin on his face as he handed me a white envelope, sealed shut, containing what I assumed was my last paycheck.

Deviant fucker.
If I hadn’t already been packed and planning on leaving, this might have rocked me, but I couldn’t care less at this point.

It’s been about four and a half hours since I was put out on the curb by his goons, and I have since made my escape. I rented a car during that time and drove myself across the Nevada state line and into Southern California where I’ve been taking in the sights ever since.

I could possibly pass as a Cali girl, but my skin might not contain the appropriate amount of melanin in it to fit in seamlessly. I’ll get a hotel room for the night and try to figure out where my next adventure will begin. I’ve circled around LA a few times before I decide on something a little bit more risk-worthy. I pull the rented car into the rental return line at LAX, deciding to forgo the hotel and buy the next available plane ticket out of here—let the world decide where my next stop will be.

The rental agency attendant walks up to me, taking in my casino attire before asking for my name. I give it to him while his eyes shift back and forth from my cleavage to the touch screen device before he tells me that the total will be charged to my American Express card.

“Thank you,” I say emotionlessly as I move to the back of the vehicle to get my suitcases out.

Thirty minutes later, I’ve managed to change into a comfortable pair of black leggings, nude Steve Madden booties, and my beloved black
She’s Whiskey in a Teacup
tank. Once I’ve trashed my casino uniform, I head out. It takes me another hour to get to the front of the Southwest check-in line to purchase a ticket to my final destination.

“Do you have a reservation with us this evening?” the redheaded woman behind the check-in counter asks.

“I actually don’t have one. I was hoping that you could book me onto the next available flight out.”

She glances at me and then at my luggage before lowering her voice. “I can do that. It’s none of my business, but are you all right, ma’am?”

“I’m great, thanks. I’m just surprising myself with a domestic vacation.”

I’m sure that she assumes I’m running away from my life or an abusive relationship, but I’d rather not get into my life’s details with a stranger.

“Oh, well, there is nothing wrong with treating ourselves every once in a while.” She goes quiet for a minute or two before offering up any more information. “All right, the next flight that you will be able to catch after going through security is leaving in a little over an hour, and it will be going to Chicago Midway. Would you like for me to reserve your seat?”

“Please,” I answer as I take out my license and credit card, handing them both to her before she tells me to put my first bag on the scale. Both of the bags are overweight, but I really don’t give a fuck. I pay up and take my cards and boarding pass before making my way through the airport to stand in the hellish security lines.

Another hour later I’ve made my way through security and I’ve taken my seat on the plane, just as the flight attendant closes the doors and my journey to Chicago begins.

I step out of the jetway and shiver in the slightly cooler air of the North as it hits me through the thin material of my outfit. My phone vibrates in my hand with an incoming call from Lola Marc, a friend I’ve had since I was placed in my second foster home with her. We grew close rather quickly between the abuse and lack of parental guidance. I texted her while the plane taxied to the runway before taking off from LAX, telling her that I would be landing in her city at this god-awful time in the morning. She’s a saint for coming to collect me at six a.m. while the sun still struggles to make an appearance.

“Hey Lo. I just stepped off of the plane, and I’m on my way down to baggage claim.”

“Hads,” she squeals, making me cringe away from my phone. “I’m beyond excited to see you. Do you have a place to stay yet? I honestly don’t mind if you crash with me.”

“That’s really sweet of you to offer, but I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Stop being polite and be the bitch I know you to be. You’re crashing with me whether you want to or not.”

I laugh at her response. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Bye.”

Lo has been the only person to understand the inner workings of my mind when it comes to sex because she was in the same place with me for a while before I left. I know that she’s moved on since our past foster-care abuse, unlike myself.

Even though it’s been eight years since I’ve seen her, I don’t doubt that we’ll pick right up where we left off. She’s always been involved in my life, checking in with me at least once a month to find out where I was or what adventure I was on or whose dick I was riding at the time. She’s the one person in my life who has been worth holding onto.

I turn the corner and search the sea of faces waiting for their loved ones, looking for her dark hair.

“Hads,” she calls out to me, and I turn in the direction of her voice just as she slams her body against mine. I can’t contain the giggle that escapes me, making me feel like a teenager again as I embrace my oldest friend.

“Holy crap, Lo . . . I can’t . . . breathe.”

“Sorry,” she loosens her grip on me before holding me out at arm’s length. “You look exhausted.”

“Gee, thanks,” I say as we walk to baggage claim together where my bags are already circling on the belt. She grabs one while I grab the other and we head out to her car while dragging them behind us.

“Please tell me that these will fit in your vehicle.”

“I have an SUV, so they should. If not, though, I’m sure your toned ass won’t mind walking.”

I roll my eyes at her response as we get to her white Mercedes-Benz SUV.

“Holy shit. Who are you banging?”

She snickers as we lift my suitcases into the trunk. “I don’t need to bang anyone if I can afford this baby on my own.”

“Wow, Lo. I’m . . . proud of you.”

“Thanks. You know, if you plan on staying here, I’m sure my place wouldn’t mind hiring an extra hand.”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” I beam at her as I buckle up. “But I’m sure that I can find my own job, and if not then I’ll consider taking you up on your offer. What the hell are you doing nowadays, by the way?”

She backs out of her spot, and we pull out of the parking deck and onto the highway before she offers up an answer. “Uhm, well, I’ve kind of opened up my own boutique which hosts a variety of my own designs. It’s only taken off in the last year, though.”

“Wait, what? Are you kidding me? Lo, that’s incredible.”

“I know, right?” she all but yelps at me.

“I don’t know if I could live with you and work for you . . . and manage to remain friends. That might be pushing it.”

“You may be right, but the living part won’t be unruly because you will have your own room and neither will the friend part. Had-Lo for life, bitch.”

“That damn nickname needs to go before it gets re-introduced to the wrong people,” I say before we both burst out into laughter.

Being with Lo has always been simple and amusing. My thoughts of Lawson and his dick have evaporated as she pulls into a high-rise apartment building called Walton on the Park. We walk into the lobby and her doorman takes my suitcases from us while Lo signs me into the long-term guest registry. Once we’re done signing in, the doorman shows us to an elevator, and we ride up to the twenty-third floor, walk down a hallway, and stop at double doors at the end. She opens the doors, and we’re suddenly engulfed in the early-morning summer sunshine. The apartment is bathed in light as I walk to the middle of the foyer, taking in the bright and spacious place.

“Holy shit,” I murmur under my breath.

“I know, right? I’m still trying to get used to it myself. I’ve been here for only four months, so this is all still rather new to me. This is probably one of my favorite parts of the city. We’re right next to Washington Square Park, which is a great little escape. Come on, I’ll show you to your room and let you get ready for the day before I assault you with questions and take you out to see the city.”

I follow her through the apartment to a closed door that she swings open. I step through and smile to myself as I enter. “This is stunning, thank you, but you don’t have to take off work to cart me around Chicago. You’ve already done too much.”

“It’s Sunday, Hads. My boutique is closed today, and regardless, I wouldn’t miss my first day with my new roommate.”

“Oh, well, if you insist.”

“I do. Now get changed and I’ll see your skinny ass shortly.”

She closes the door behind her once the doorman places my suitcases in the room and I glance around, taking in my new space. I swear if I didn’t know her better, I would think that this was the master bedroom. The walls are a pale gray color with a king-sized bed in the middle of the rear wall. The block drapes are gray and pale peach. The bedding matches her color scheme with pale grays, whites, and pale peach accents. I personally would have never paired the two colors together, but the room is warm and delicate at the same time. I pause to place my purse on the bench at the end of the bed. I can think of a few different positions I’ll be able to get into with a man standing behind me right here.

I kill that thought for now and move to my suitcase in search of my makeup bag and hairbrush.

Throughout the morning, Lo has been showing me the most beautiful architecture that Chicago has to offer. I swear every building comes with a story in this city, and I’ve been held captive by it all. Who knew that architecture could be so enthralling?

We’ve just finished brunch at
Taverna 750,
where I’ve had a few too many bottomless mimosas when Lo asks me what I know she’s been holding back since I landed. “Are you still doing it?”

I lift the champagne flute to my lips and throw back the rest of it before I set it down and glance up at her. “More than ever.”

“Hads, I can hook you up with my therapist if you’d like. He’s helped me over the last few years. I’m sure he’ll be more than able to assist you through the same thing.”