He didn't come back.
Mamma Jo came into the room without knocking. I'd showered and had put on shorts and a baby blue T-shirt, but by no means had I packed my things. I wasn't going with Aloha Pete. He'd have to drag me from this room before I'd let him bully me into moving in with him. Stupid me.
Mamma Jo, a woman who could carry off a muumuu with flare, looked me up and down and crossed her arms over her wide bosom. "What have you done?" she asked, her kindly gaze falling on the condom wrappers that were still littering the floor beside the bed. She shook her head. "My keiki is stomping around the office, grumbling how he had no choice but to buy you. What does he mean that he's bought you, Kyra?"
I almost wished someone was trying to kill Pete again. I'd much rather take another bullet for him than untangle this mess I'd made for myself. At best, he'd toss me into jail once I explained how I was investigating Tina's disappearance, without a PI license—and was not selling my body. This misunderstanding would more likely end our friendship. Forever. Which made me feel miserable.
"Oh, Mamma Jo..." I sank down onto the bed and dropped my head into my hands while fat, noisy tears spilled down my cheeks. "He's going to hate me."
The mattress sagged as Mamma Jo sat down next to me. "You have him twisted up into knots," she said. "You're his pet project—the young girl he can keep safe. You know he stops by just about every night to ask about you?"
"He does?"
She patted my leg. "He's a good boy. He wants to save everyone, but he can't. His job takes a terrible toll on him. You're his anchor. If he can protect you, I think it makes everything else okay. Sleeping with him...that was a mistake."
I nodded. She was right and admitting it only made me feel even more miserable. He'd taken me to bed out of pity, or perhaps he'd felt panicked about my safety and thought that sleeping with me was the only way he could protect me from myself. A blush stung my cheeks.
"I love him, you know," I whispered.
"I know," she said. "But that still doesn't make it right."
"No." And if I saw him right now, I would probably make some God-awful confession that would only embarrass the both of us. He needed me to be safe. He didn't need me to love him. "I have to go, Mamma Jo," I said as I scooped up my purse and darted for the door. "Tell him I'm sorry."