Can't Save Me

Grant

"We need to go to the police, Maddie."

"And say what?" Madeline asked, tossing a hand lackadaisically into the air. She was trying to make light of the whole situation from the previous evening, but I knew it was putting her on edge. I'd spent so much time with the woman in the last month and a half that I noticed every change in her posture, in the way she spoke. It was bugging her, no matter how dismissive she was acting about it. "A woman paid to get me in Champagne Room, poured me some bubbly, and made some veiled threats? They're not going to do anything, Grant."

I'd been trying to convince Madeline that she needed to go to the police ever since she'd confessed what had made her so jumpy the night before. She'd tried to keep it from me, but after making her come so many times that her brain melted, she gave it up. Hell, I think she would've rattled off the entire Declaration of Independence if I'd asked.

As if that hadn't been my plan the second I took her panties off anyway.

"I still think it's a good idea to give 'em a heads up," I insisted after starting a pot of coffee. "I can't imagine you're the only person Braun is hustling."

"I'm sure I'm not, but this isn't Braun."

I arched an eyebrow. "She said she was his daughter."

"Do you think it's true?"

"Does it really matter?" I asked turning around and leaning my back against the kitchen island. Madeline sat on the counter across from me, kicking her legs like it was no big thing. I, on the other hand, was riddled with tension; shoulders set in a firm line, posture rigid. She might've been able to act like it wasn't a big deal, but I couldn't, and I didn't want to.

I didn't know who this Eva character was, but I didn't really care. She'd scared Maddie enough to cause her to scream bloody murder when I approached her in the alley. That was all I needed to know and I wanted this shit solved before anything else could happen.

Madeline sighed, her dark eyes locked on mine as she sipped from the mug of coffee in her hand, a jug of pumpkin spiced creamer sitting beside her.

I realized when I bought the damn sugary shit just how fucked I was when it came to this girl. I'd only ever taken my coffee black and now my cupboards and fridge were riddle with all kinds of sugary, syrupy accoutrements.

"Will it make you feel better if I agree to talk to your friend?"

I had a high school buddy that was now on the Vice squad. Chuck, Mike, and I had been the Three Musketeers in school and still were close to this day. They'd been my groomsmen when I married Gwen. If anyone had any intel on Braun and this Eva, it'd be Chuck.

"Yes," I answered, folding my arms over my chest. "It would make me feel a lot better."

"Okay," Madeline responded with a nod. "Then set it up."

"Really?" I questioned a bit suspiciously. "You're gonna go along with it that easily? I was prepared for more of a fight."

Madeline laughed softly as she slid of the counter and padded her bare feet toward me. "If it will make you feel more at ease, yes," she stated, placing her palms against my chest. Her touch instantly made me feel warmer, calmer. "I will talk to your friend."

"Thank you," I replied before dipping my head down and giving her lips a quick peck.

"Of course," Madeline responded with a devious crook to her delicious mouth as she stroked my cheek. "Is there anything else I can do to... help you relax?"

I sucked in a sharp breath as she walked her fingers down my stomach, my abs flexing with every tiny step her fingers took. I swallowed thickly as she started fiddling with the waistband of my sweatpants. "Depends what you're offering," I responded huskily. The gravel in my voice, however, was more than eager to convey my interest.