CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Hostile“About b****y time!” Hector’s face assumed a mask like quality as he processed his relief at Leilah’s reappearance. His tone sounded harsh and jarring. His bare feet rested on the low coffee table, the heels hard and calloused from spending his life on his feet. The television played in the background, snowstorm news impossible to follow.
Leilah shrugged in response, pressing his buttons for no apparent reason. “You know where I was.” She bent to remove her Roman sandals, noticing the blisters from the uphill walk.
“I know where I didn’t want you.” Eyes like gimlets, he fixed a hard gaze on her face. “You need to start towing the line, my girl. There are things you don’t know.”
Leilah huffed out a breath and tossed her hair. The graze and bald patch reminded her
