Circling the house without incident, I walk Cassandra to the far corner of the yard.
Like our houses, this one butts against thick woods. But this patch of forest is the same patch of forest behind the abandoned house at the end of Holly Court.
And the couple that lives here spends all their free time on cruise ships, so they don’t spend much time in their yard. And they’ve never ventured past their mown lawn. So they haven’t noticed the trail I carved, allowing a person easy access from one property to the other.
I duck under the low-hanging, untrimmed branches of the lilac bushes that line the back of this yard and enter the forest.
Tall grass brushes against my calves, and I make a mental note to grab the other bag I put together for Cassandra.
I love the way she looks in her tiny shorts, but my dick twitches at the thought of her dressed in matching tactical blacks.
“What is this?” Cassandra whispers from my side when she sees the narrow path in front of us.
“This is called being prepared.” I keep my voice just as quiet.
A finger jabs into my side. “Who’s the brat now?”
I should be focused. And I am. But I’m also smiling. And that’s weird.
