BAD Beginnings by Shelley Wall Page B

she had tiny ankles. And muscular calves. He tugged one heel from her foot then the other and with them in hand, pulled her along through the corridor.
    “Ummm, Logan, the windows are waaay out of sight now.” She dropped a hand to her hip and stared over his shoulder. Okay, the bedroom loomed behind him. That was purely coincidental.
    He grinned and whispered, “You think they’re gone?”
    The rasp of a key in the lock answered his question and he spat out a curse. The asshole chose this moment to come home? Fuck. “Not now.” Only it wasn’t him.
    He heard the clip of heels on the shined entry, then he shivered as Sharon’s voice called, “Where the hell are you, you little shit-ass? What do you mean running out on us like that? You’ll have— Oh, well look who’s here.”
    Sharon’s perfectly manicured fingers trailed along the wall as she moved toward them like a panther approached its prey. Baden’s breath caught. A chill ran down his spine and lodged in his ass. So, Mommy dearest had a key even though she was never anywhere near her son. Interesting.
    He frowned but the darkness swallowed the expression. “Normally when someone doesn’t answer the door that means you’re not welcome. Or maybe they’re not home. What do you want?”
    “I came by to see you. Don’t be shy now. I know you’re not real keen on my new hubby but hey, a girl’s gotta find her own happiness, right? Besides, your dad’s been gone for a decade.”
    “Not a good time right now, Sharon.” Baden couldn’t shake the chill.
    Gemma pulled her shoes from his fingers and cleared her throat. “I’d better go Logan. You seem to have a bit of catching up to—”
    He grasped the shoes, then her wrist in a failed attempt to intercept her departure. “No. Don’t go.”
    The light from the entry glanced across her face, a mere moonbeam in the dark. “It’s okay. I’ll see you at the office on Monday.”
    He groaned as she raced down the hall and out the door. With the car gone, he had no idea how she’d manage to leave and he wasn’t about to—
    “You need a ride.”
    She pulled a keychain from the bowl by the door and jingled it. “Mind if I borrow yours? I’ll bring it back clean on Monday.” Without waiting, she slipped through the door and disappeared, leaving him with—Cruella Deville.
    Sharon crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “Let her go, dear. She’s a big girl. She can manage fine.”
    Yeah, she can, but what about me?
    “So why are you here, Sharon? What’s so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow? Or next year?” He brushed past without letting her get a closer look and headed toward the bar. Forget the hot tea, he needed bourbon.
    “Tsk. Tsk. Such a cold welcome after all this time.” Sharon tossed her clutch on the bar, grabbed the glass he’d poured, and tossed it back. “I expected you to stick to your end of our bargain.”
    He hadn’t a clue what she referred to but the bitch had depleted his patience when she drank his healthy portion of the glorious bourbon. Logan’s stash was the best he had tasted. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
    Sharon leaned toward him, the hot stench of her alcohol-infused breath blew against his cheek. “Enlighten me, Looogaan, what’s that writing on your chest all about?” She slid a finger along his lapel then traced the top of the tattoo on his bicep. Her eyebrow raised when a button gave way, exposing the words. “The Truth Shan’t Set You Free. Seriously? Sweetie, I am the only truth in your book. If it weren’t for me, you’d be rotting in prison just like that—” She shook her head and let his shirt fall closed. “You want to tell me why you decided not to send my check this month?”
    “Your check?” Damn he wished he knew what this woman meant. And why he felt like an angel of death was standing before him.
    “Don’t fuck with me, sonny boy. I made you. I saved you from that truth you flaunt on your chest.