TWENTY-SEVEN
Merchant didn’t come to her in the dark. For most of the night, Tulsi stayed awake. If Wreck was on the other side of the door in the corner, she didn’t hear him. A foolish fragment of her juvenile mind laughed when she imagined the men coming face to face at the threshold of her bedroom.
As far as she knew, Wreck was unaware of what Merchant did with her at night. In spite of his ignorance, if Wreck encountered Merchant in the dead of night, he wouldn’t be understanding. Wreck could just punch him in the face. Given the alternatives, that was the best Merchant could hope for.
The laughter never lasted. Having Wreck so close and being unable to talk to him or to touch was a new kind of t*****e all of its own. Maybe it was inadvertent, but more likely it was a part of Mercha
