Took Me Yesterday (book 2 of The Tomo Trilogy)

Complications

"I want a divorce," Penny said, then waved her arm in our direction, "and I want these people—and whatever you're involved with—out of my house."

Pierson stepped closer to the blonde. "Penny—"

"Don't Penny me." She held up her forefinger, as rigid as a knife. "You have no idea what I've been through, what all of Louis has been through."

"Please, Penny." He laid his hands on her shoulders, and it was only then that I realized she was taller than him. "I need your help. I need you."

"How convenient," she scoffed. "Need is a pliable thing with you, isn't it?"

"Not with you," Pierson said, and he sounded like he meant it. "I missed you every day. I thought of you every second. I dream of you."

Penny folded her arms and turned her face away.

"Here." Pierson let her go so he could unzip a pocket located inside his jacket. He pulled out a photograph the size of his palm. "I carry you next to my heart everywhere I go." Penny's eyes trailed back to him, just as he faced the photograph toward her and laid his free hand on his chest. "You're in my heart, always."

Penny blushed, and her glare crumbled apart into a swoon. "Puppet."

Lily leaned against me and whispered, "Did she just call him Puppet?"

I couldn't believe it myself, but I nodded. "Yep."

Pierson was married, Penelope was his wife, and they could not stop staring at one another.

"I just put on some tea," Penny said. "I'll get some for everyone." She gestured to the table in the middle of the room, but still looked at Pierson over her shoulder. She even winked. "Acai tea."

Pierson relaxed, and his shoulders fell as he held the photo against his chest. He looked young again. Lily broke the mirage by giggling. For the first time since entering, Pierson looked at us, and his eyes widened like he had forgotten we were there. His face burned red, and he cleared his throat. "Some things aren't meant to be witnessed," he said, returning the photograph to the pocket nearest his heart.

I kept Noah's watch near my hip. I wasn't exactly a romantic, and from the looks of it, neither were the cabin's occupants.

The little shack was dusty, dirty, and drab. Various herbs hung from the ceiling, and broken bits laid scattered across the rickety floorboards. Mouse droppings followed them. Penelope didn't seem to notice, though. She hummed to herself as she picked up a cast iron pot and poured hot water into mugs of various shapes and colors. Her entire house mimicked her mug collection, a slew of unpredictable breakables. I had to sidestep between a small giraffe statue and a decorative yet empty coat rack to get to the dining table. Each chair was different, and she had a dozen of them, crammed together around the round table like she expected a hundred guests at any moment. The dust on the floor told me that never happened. I decided on a chair with dolphin etchings. Lily picked the one next to me without a word.

"So, how old are you, Dr. Medic?" Tasia asked, dropping a picture frame onto the table in front of me. The shaped frame formed a puzzle piece, but the photo inside only caused more questions. It was a wedding photo, but Penelope had short hair. This woman's hair went down to her slim waist, even when tied up.

Pierson sat down across from me and grabbed the picture. A small smile pulled at his lips. "I was eighteen in that picture." That was already two years older than I thought he was. "I'm twenty-seven now."

Lily's jaw dropped. "What?"

"I know, I didn't say anything, but—"

"It's a part of his job," Penelope explained as she leaned over Pierson to look at the photo. She didn't smile. "Always has been. Always will be." She placed a steaming mug in front of him. "No sugar, a little bit of honey."