As the Liquor Flows by Angela Christina Archer

Author:Angela Christina Archer [Archer, Angela Christina]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Long Valley Press
Published: 2016-03-19T04:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

I TIPTOED FROM the powder room and into the master bedroom of Max’s apartment. Daylight cascaded through the sheer white curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Not but a few hours had passed since the run-in with the cops, and the anxious tickle through my raw nerves still stung with every loud sound, every movement that wasn’t mine, and every shadow that darkened the wall.

I sat upon the bed and drew my knees up close to my chest, tucking my hair behind my ears as I glanced around the room.

The faint recollection of Max’s strong arms carrying me to bed whispered through my mind. His smooth gate had rocked me. Nice, comfortable, secure, my body had relaxed into his with a seamless fit as though his frame was an extension of my own.

As gently as he scooped me up, he laid me down upon a soft bed. My head rested upon a fluffy pillow as he covered me with warm blankets.

His deep voice had told me to ‘just get some sleep’, while his fingertips grazed against my forehead and brushed my hair from my face.

The perfect ending to the night, after our less than perfect kiss.

WHACK!

I slapped my hand across my forehead, massaging my temples. His kiss so wonderful, and yet, so unexpected I hadn’t reacted as I desired.

I hadn’t reacted at all.

Instead, I simply stared off into the sea of delivery trucks sitting around us, causing him to pause and retreat from me as though he believed he’d done something wrong.

I’m such a fool.

A telephone cradle shook with a thunderous rattle, ringing loudly in the hallway just outside the cracked open bedroom door. Footsteps clumped against the hardwood floor and someone lifted the headset from the cradle.

“Yeah.” Max’s voice boomed.

The voice on the other line blared through the speaker, mumbled and incoherent, even with the volume.

“What? Wait . . . what happened?” He exhaled a deep sigh that rumbled through his chest in a low growl. “Are you serious? Where’s Vinny?” he paused again. “All right. Yes, yes, I’ll be right there. No, no, don’t do that, I’ll be right there.”

He slammed the headset down onto the cradle so hard that the ringer bell rung, and then he knocked on the bedroom door.

“Evelyn? Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

He slipped inside the room. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I whispered.

My heart fluttered at the sight of him crossing the room. I had to fix the misunderstanding from last night. I had to clue him to the fact that I, not only had wanted the kiss in that moment, but I had wanted it for quite a long time.

“Something happened at the warehouse. We need to get down there as soon as possible.”

“Is everything all right?”

He ignored my question and rummaged through a blazer hanging on a coat rack in the corner. Anger and confusion plagued him, dragging him inward into his own thoughts.

“Max?”

“Someone decided to send Vinny a message.”

“What kind of message?”

“They shot up the warehouse.” His words held a hint of disbelief that twisted in my gut.

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