HANS: Alliance Series Book Four, page 8
I don’t have a mission tonight. No plans to utilize all the pockets hidden in my pants. But I like to be prepared. And anytime I’m sitting in my room downstairs, watching my monitors and sharpening my knives, I make sure I’m ready to go, should the need arise.
“I’m good,” I reply and pull my keys from my pocket.
Cassandra spins around and walks ahead of me to the front of my garage.
I click a button on my key fob to open the overhead door, and we wait for it to rumble open before going to our respective doors.
It’s not until we’re climbing into my truck that I think to ask, “Where am I taking you?”
Cassandra pulls her door shut and answers while reaching for her seat belt. “Dinner at my parents’ place.”
CHAPTER 29
Cassie
Hans slowly turns his head to face me as the truck rolls down his driveway.
I bite my lip, refusing to look at him, worried that if I do, he’ll throw the truck into park and demand I get out.
Not that he requires eye contact to kick me out.
“Your parents?” His voice, though much better than it was yesterday, is still a little scratchy, making him sound more serious than his already serious tone.
“Yes,” I kinda squeak. “But you can totally just drop me off. They’re in St. Paul, and I know that’s a bit of a drive, but I’ll pay you for the hassle, and I’m sure I can find a ride that will bring me back this way.”
It’s Sunday evening, so there won’t be much traffic, and we’ll get there in like thirty minutes, but I don’t want him to think I can’t pay for his time. I never expected him to offer to drive me.
Then again, I can’t really picture him letting me take his truck alone either, now that I think about it.
Hans lets out a sigh, and I chance a glance at him just as he turns out of the driveway and presses down on the gas. “You’re not going to pay me.”
He doesn’t sound excited, but I still relax. If he was going to kick me out, he’d have done it already.
It’s not like my parents would be mad if I had to cancel on them, but they would worry. And that worry would turn into phone calls and questions and suggestions that I just don’t feel like listening to.
“I am going to pay you,” I insist, then keep talking before he can argue. “Would you like me to tell you directions as we go or put their address into your GPS?”
CHAPTER 30
Hans
“Just tell me,” I clip out before she can reach for the screen on my dashboard.
I don’t actually need her to tell me where to go; I know exactly where her parents live. But if she starts to type the address into my truck GPS, she might see that particular location already labeled as CP. And she’s a clever enough girl that she might realize it stands for Cassandra’s parents. I sort of doubt that’s something she’d be cool with.
Changing the topic from addresses, I add, “You can let me keep the book as payment.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her crossing her arms. “If I say no?”
I slide her a look. “I’ll keep it anyway.”
“Hans.”
“Cassandra,” I mimic her stern tone back like I’m in fucking middle school.
I glance at her again, and she narrows her eyes. “Why do you call me that?”
“It’s your name.” I play dumb.
“Yeah, but it’s my full name. Everyone calls me Cassie.”
“Well, then you shouldn’t have introduced yourself as Cassandra,” I lie.
Her face does that cute scrunching thing she does when she’s thinking. “I did?”
I force my focus back on the road.
“You did,” I lie again.
“But I never…” She trails off.
“Maybe if you figured out your own name, then your mail would be addressed correctly, and that sex book would’ve been delivered to the right house.”
“Sex book?” Cassandra sputters a laugh. “They are tasteful boudoir photos.”
“They’re a taste of something,” I grumble.
“What was that?” She turns toward me as she asks, causing the skirt of her dress to ride up her thighs.
“What part of St. Paul are we going to?” I try to distract us both.
“It’s by the science museum. You ever been?”
I shake my head, trying to imagine a scenario where I take myself to a museum for… Well, for any reason.
And just like that, the little voice I tried to lock in my basement reminds me just how different we are. How different our lives are.
“You totally should,” she starts, then spends the next ten minutes telling me all about the exhibits there and how often her parents took her growing up.
Her memories sound so fond, and I can’t help but think of my childhood. My parents took us places. I remember loving the zoo. But based on Cassandra’s descriptions, I can imagine how much my sister would’ve loved trying to gross me out in a body parts exhibit.
My sister was always going back and forth between wanting to be a doctor or a veterinarian. She wasn’t squeamish about cuts and scrapes. Never shied away from potential gore. Blood and guts weren’t my thing.
Until they were.
“That’s probably why my parents chose to move near there.”
I missed the last part of what Cassandra said, but I make a noise of agreement anyway.
“How long have they lived there?” My voice sounds scratchy, but I’ll blame that on my recovering throat and not wistful memories.
The rest of the ride is filled with Cassandra explaining how her parents decided to move to a retirement community. How she went on tours with them, the mishaps of a moving truck with a flat tire, and how her parents’ ninety-year-old neighbor, Harold, hits on her every time she’s there.
Me and Harold are gonna have a problem.
Cassandra’s hands fly up. “Turn here!”
The panic in her actions is unwarranted since I was already lifting my hand to flip on my blinker, but, of course, she didn’t notice that. Which is good.
I follow her directions through the large complex of buildings, parking lots, and well-manicured lawns.
Having looked it up, I know this place has everything from regular apartments to full nursing care, so residents can just move buildings as they age.
It’s nice. If you’re into this sort of thing.
Even with this new talk of retirement, I don’t really see myself living to the age of ninety. Hell, at this rate, if I hit fifty, I’ll be fucking lucky.
Cassandra has me pull into a spot labeled for visitors next to her parents’ building.
“Seriously, thank you so much for the ride. I really—”
I turn off the engine.
Cassandra pauses unbuckling herself. “What are you doing?”
She really thought I was just going to drop her off and let her fend for herself to get back home.
She’s pretty. But she’s a fool.
“I’ll wait,” I tell her.
“You’ll… You’ll stay for dinner?” Her tone is a mixture of shock and hope.
“No, I’ll wait.” I settle back in my seat. “Go eat with your parents, Cassandra.”
I should’ve opened the window before I turned off the truck, but I’ll do that after she leaves.
A small choking sound leaves her throat. “You can’t just sit in your car.”
Heaving out a breath, I turn and face her. “You aren’t getting a ride home from some stranger, Butterfly. It’s dangerous. Now get out of the truck and go inside. I’ll be here.”
She mouths the word butterfly before shaking her head. “You’re coming with me.”
“No—”
She cuts me off. “I literally cannot go enjoy myself while you sit out here roasting like a potato in an oven.”
“Potato?” I look down at myself. I know my outfit isn’t the height of fashion, and I might not be as chiseled as I was in my twenties, but potato?
She shoves at my shoulder. “I didn’t mean you look like one. I just like food analogies.” She fans her face. “Seriously, I’m already baking in here. Let’s go.”
With that, she unclips her seat belt, opens the door, and slides out of my truck.
Yeah, sure, let’s go have dinner with my obsession’s fucking parents.
If Karmine could see me now.
I shouldn’t be seen with Cassandra in public.
I shift my eyes to the rearview mirror, looking for anyone suspicious.
But I also don’t believe anyone is following me. The men after me aren’t like that. They aren’t going to watch me to learn my patterns. When they find me, when they get eyes on me, they’ll come for me. Hard. And then it’ll be me or them. Nothing in between.
Cassandra stands on the sidewalk, waiting for me.
Yearning battles with reason as I remember the feeling of waking up with her in my arms.
I open my truck door.
CHAPTER 31
Cassie
I part my lips and try to pull in a silent gulp of air. I’m going to blame my thudding heart on the heat and the flight of stairs and not on Hans at my side.
Hans, my neighbor, who only started talking to me this weekend. Who pulled my hair and gripped me between my legs with his big hands. Who ate my soup. Who stole my birthday book. Who slept with his body pressed against mine.
His booted feet hardly make a sound on the hallway’s industrial carpet beneath us.
I try to sneak a look at him.
I’ve felt his body, clutched it, but still, seeing him like this is almost… jarring.
He looks so strong with his biceps filling out his short sleeves and his chest muscles stretching the fabric of his T-shirt.
I never really had an opinion on guys with long hair, but I’ve decided I like it. I like it a lot.
Thinking of his hair, I press my lips together and glance up at it.
He has it pulled back into a low, messy bun like he always does, and I want to pull it free. I want to tug on his hair the way he tugged on mine.
I move my eyes to his face and find him staring back at me.
Caught.
“You’re really handsome.” I admit the obvious.
His lips part. But he doesn’t reply. He just looks stunned. And that makes me feel a little less embarrassed about him catching me looking.
“Ready?” I ask, stopping in front of my parents’ unit.
He shakes his head. “Probably not.”
I grin at his answer and pull the key for their door out of my bag.
CHAPTER 32
Hans
When Cassandra lifts the key like she’s going to unlock her parents’ door, I make an executive decision and reach up, knocking on the door.
She pauses with the key in the air. “But I—”
“I doubt your parents are expecting you to have a guest. I don’t really want to surprise them by just walking in.” I’m aware of the irony of feeling this way, but I don’t care.
Cassandra rolls her pretty eyes at me. “Oh my god. It’ll be fine.”
Before I can think better of it, I dart my hand up and grip her ponytail.
Her mouth pops open.
“Watch the attitude, Girl.” I give the command quietly, but there’s no mistaking my tone.
“Or what?” she breathes. “I don’t think your punishment worked last time.”
“No?” My cock starts to thicken. “I’m sure we can find your limit.”
She leans toward me, increasing the pull I have on her hair.
She presses her hands against my chest. “Promise?”
A low growl rumbles behind my ribs. “Cassandra.”
She keeps her eyes wide as she looks up at me. “You want to count to three again?”
I lower my face toward hers, then I hear a lock click open.
Releasing her ponytail, I straighten and face the door.
Cassandra is still turned toward me when her mother pulls the door open.
“Oh geez, did you lose your keys again?” Mrs. Cantrell asks her daughter.
I watch my neighbor’s flushed cheeks darken further with embarrassment as she shifts to face her mom.
“I didn’t lose my keys, thank you very much.” I love the sass in her voice. I hope she tries that tone on me soon.
“Then what are you—Holy hell!” Mrs. Cantrell slaps a hand to her chest when she notices me.
“Mom!” Cassandra sounds offended, and it takes all my effort not to laugh out loud.
Her mom runs her eyes up and down my form once before lowering her voice to her daughter. “Are you in trouble?”
Cassandra tips her head back and shakes her head.
“What?” Her mom defends her assumption. “He looks like security.”
“Someone called security?” an older male voice says from behind Mrs. Cantrell.
“No, Honey, it’s Cassie.”
An older man steps up beside his wife, filling the rest of the doorway.
Side by side, you wouldn’t mistake these two for anyone except Cassandra’s parents. All three of them are the exact same height. And even though Cassandra has the same hair as her mom, she gets her eye color from her dad.
“You in trouble, Cassie?” he asks.
Cassandra puts her hands up. “Oh my god, no one is in trouble.”
She’s barely finished speaking when her dad steps forward to pull Cassandra into a hug. But her hands are still up, so her arms get stuck between them.
“Hi, Dad,” she huffs good naturedly.
“Nice to see—” Just like his wife, Mr. Cantrell reacts with a jolt when he finally notices me. “Oh, Jesus!” He steps back from Cassandra and puts his hand to his chest.
Mrs. Cantrell gently smacks his arm. “That’s who I was talking about.”
Mr. Cantrell faces me. “Whatever it is, I’m sure she did it.”
“Dad!” Cassandra presses her hand against my side, trying to get me to move. “You know what? I think they’ve finally lost their minds. Let’s go back home.”
“Home?” her mom gasps. “You’re living with him?”
Cassandra stares up at me and whispers, “Help.”
“But you’re doing such a good job,” I whisper back.
The corner of her mouth twitches.
Then the door across the hall swings open.
“Is that my Cassie?” An ancient man steps into the hallway.
“Hey, Harold.” Cassandra lifts a hand and waves.
Unlike the Cantrells, Harold notices me immediately. “Well, well, well.” He folds his skinny arms across his chest. “You my competition, then?”
I dip my chin.
“You willing to fight for her?” He narrows his eyes, bunching his bushy brows on his forehead.
I make a show of clenching my right hand into a fist. “I’ve never punched a geriatric, but I’m not strictly against it.”
Harold grins widely. “I like you.” He leans to the side to look at Cassandra’s parents. “I like him.”
“We like him too,” Mrs. Cantrell replies, pretending they know who I am.
Cassandra snorts, and then something starts to beep inside the apartment.
“Okay, okay, everyone in.” Mr. Cantrell steps back from the door and waves us into their apartment. “That’s the egg bake.”
“I’ve got it,” Mrs. Cantrell calls over her shoulder as she hurries toward the kitchen.
“Alright, kids, take your shoes off, then come eat.” Cassandra’s dad follows after his wife, and I notice they’re wearing matching red slippers.
My body is still a bit sore from the last job, so it takes some work not to groan as I lower down to one knee and start untying my first boot.
Cassandra drops her purse onto the floor, then bends to untie her tennis shoes.
“They seem nice.” I can’t help myself.
We’re nearly eye level like this, so I can perfectly see the expression she gives me as she deadpans, “They seem insane.”
“That too.” I smirk, then switch so I’m on the other knee.
Cassandra shakes her head, moving to untie the other shoe. But as she does, she turns more of her back to me.
Bent at the waist, the back of her skirt has come up so far I can see the bottom half of her lacy white undies.
“That’s one, Butterfly.”
Cassandra turns her head toward me at my low words and sees where I’m looking.
She snaps to standing, smoothing her skirt down. “Sorry.”
My fingers itch to slide up the back of her bare thigh. To feel that lace under my hand. But I can’t right now. Because her parents are just feet away.
I stand and leave my boots next to her tennis shoes, the size difference as extreme as our height difference.
Before she can step away from me, I hook a finger in the front of her dress, holding her still. The warmth of her cleavage surges through my body.
“I swear, if you wear this dress out of the house and flash your sweet ass to anyone else like that…”
Cassandra shakes her head. “No. Never.”
Her chest rises with a deep inhale, and I have to force myself to step back.
I pull my finger free of her dress just before her dad sticks his head around the end of the short hall and tells us to hurry up.
CHAPTER 33
Cassie
Hans presses his palm to my lower back, making me walk ahead of him.
Every step brings us closer to my parents, and I’m realizing what a massive error it was to let Hans come here with me. They’re going to ask so many questions and assume so many things, and it’s going to be a disaster.
I slow, causing Hans to apply more pressure to my back.
“What is it, Butterfly?” His voice is low, but it still sends a shiver down my spine.
The nickname is enough to pull my mind away from the edge of stress. “Why do you call me that?”
