Hannah’s text came at 9:40 the next morning.
Appointment got moved up. Can you go by the house and let Marcus know? He’s working from home. Key’s under the mat if he’s in the garage.
I stared at the screen. My cunt was still faintly sore from yesterday, a low ache that hadn’t gone away. I typed back that I’d stop by, then drove over with nothing under my skirt.
Marcus opened the door in sweats, no shirt, and looked at me like he’d been waiting.
“She’s not here,” he said. “Garage is a lie. Get inside.”
I stepped in. He locked the door, took my bag, and nodded toward the stairs.
“Their bed. Now. Clothes off. You don’t get to stand in my kitchen acting like yesterday didn’t happen.”
I went. Stripped in their bedroom. Lay back on the sheets that still smelled faintly like s*x and deterg
