Merrville County

  Chastain Residence

  Morris enters the living room holding a small pile of laundry. Titus runs up to Morris and peers up at him, yipping enthusiastically. Madison pats her right knee, calling the annoyed corgi-mix back to the sofa.

  "Come here, Titus. Come on, boy. This is Morris' house. You're just a guest. Come here. Bad boy. Come here."

  Titus finally stops barking at Deputy Chastain. However, the dog isn't happy about it. He chuffs loudly and swaggers back towards the couch. Twice, the chubby mutt looks over its shoulder--as if warning Morris to keep his distance. Morris rolls his eyes and waits for Titus to be safely in Madison's arms before he ventures close to the sofa.

  "Here you go, Maddie!" Morris says, handing Madison the pile of clothes. "It's just a few things my ex left here when she...Uh. Here. I hope they fit."

  "I'm sure they will," Madison responds, climbing to her feet.

  Titus jumps to the floor and stands between Madison and Morris. He grumpily watches his favorite human as she takes the clothes Deputy Chastain offers her.

  "Thanks, Morris. I didn't have time to dress. I just came on out here. I didn't know who else to turn to. I mean...There's Dave. But, his life is just starting to get better too. I don't want to ruin what he has going with Octavia. Oh gosh. That sounds so terrible. I don't want to ruin you either, Morris. But it seems...Wherever I go...I'm sorry."

  "It's no problem. Use the guest bathroom. First door on the left," Morris says with a weak smile. "It's clean...But not in the best shape. Sorry about that."

  "It's fine, Morris. Thank you," Madison replies in a soft voice.

  She makes her way to the guest bathroom, grumpy Titus in tow.

  -

  -

  Somewhere in Castleton

  Rachel parks Ned's Astrovan and hurriedly climbs from behind the wheel. She rushes to the front door of the somewhat cluttered, but otherwise cozy, home they find themselves at.

  "Cole! Cole! It's me! It's Rachel. Open up? Please."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Rachel glances over at the minivan, complete with wheelchair rack, parked on the other half of the double driveway. Light streams out from the garage windows and there is a loud whirring coming from inside. Cole is definitely in there.

  Rachel raises her hand to knock again, but there is no need. Cole Ethridge presses a wheelchair accessible button on the wall and the front door gradually opens. He stares out at Rachel as he waits for there to be enough space to move forward.

  "Hey, Rachel! Long time...No see," Cole lisps. "Haven't laid eyes on you since just before Karine...Uh. How you been? What brings you to my door?"

  "Cole, I need your help," Rachel says breathlessly. "A friend of mine is injured and I didn't know where else to go."

  "A friend, eh?" Cole replies, his eyes lighting up. "Does your friend have a name? Why bring him to me? I'm not a damn hospital, Rachel."

  "I know. I know, Cole," Rachel pleads. "And I'm sorry. It's just that...I need somewhere safe for him. He's in danger and he has a serious head wound. I need someone to look after him for a bit. Someone...I can trust."

  "Trust? Now, there's a thought," Cole scoffs, slapping his right knee. "Ever since my accident...Everyone's been treating me like some damn pariah. No phone calls...No letters. Now, suddenly...I'm the person people trust? Get out of here with that crap, Rachel. I've got stuff to do."

  Cole prepares to shut the door but Rachel shoves a foot inside and steps closer to the wheelchair bound man. She tenderly strokes one side of his face and offers him a friendly smile.

  "Okay, fine," Rachel says. "His name is James Mackey. You may know of him from the news. Don't believe everything you hear. There's some really questionable people after him. They might be after his wife and kid too. He asked me to help him. And I'm gonna do that...With or without your help, Cole. I'd prefer...If it were with your help."

  Rachel uses her other hand to lift the bottom of her black tank top to just above her navel. Cole's eyes narrow and his jaw tightly clenches. His eyes narrow even further as Rachel very incrementally inches her blouse up higher. Rachel's voice drops to a sultry whisper and she narrows her eyes as well. Just one of the few tricks she'd learned while watching Karine prepare for her nightly rounds.

  "It won't be for long," Rachel continues. "Just until he's strong enough to move around on his own. And then, we can figure out what's really going on. I need to make contact with his family. I'd appreciate it if you'd watch over him for me. After what Mackey tried to do for Karine...I owe him one. You'll help me...Won't you, Cole?"

  By now, Rachel is practically flashing the poor man. Cole's jaw is no longer taunt. He stammers as he looks around her at the parked van in his driveway.

  "Uh. Su-su-sure, Rachel. Yeah. Whatever you need. I'll help you get him inside."

  "Thanks, Cole. You won't regret it," Rachel says, releasing the bottom of her blouse at just below her bra.

  Cole releases a disappointed sigh. He's already regretting his decision to give Rachel an answer. Another couple of inches and his day might've gone a little better. Another ten or twenty seconds to bliss and he'd blown it. He's wanted Rachel since the day she first showed up on his doorstep with Karine and Stefan. The night he and Stefan had shared Karine in his bed. Rachel had chosen to wait outside in the car, as the threesome worked out their sordid business. School in the morning, she'd unconvincingly claimed.

  Rachel had never approved of their abnormal lifestyle. But Cole had always approved of her body. Imagining what it would be like to calculatedly undress that wonderful form. Not much has changed. Except this wheelchair and the increased size of Rachel's womanly breasts. Likely natural too. Oh man.

  "Well, let's go get your friend," Cole manages to say, moving towards the wheelchair ramp built into the left side of his porch.