Chapter Twenty-Seven-Delaney

Delaney slammed the door behind her, taking in the abandoned house, with empty soda cans, and trash littering the floor. She'd been to his mother's house that one time, but seeing it now, it seemed worse. Sad. She couldn’t have imagined walking into her childhood home and seeing it in this position, but maybe Patch was used to it.

He'd grown up in a completely different environment.

The smell of drugs lingered in the air, which tasted stale in her mouth. If Patch hadn't reassured her that staying the night was safe, she wouldn't have considered it. It looked like a squatter had been living there.

The floors creaked as she made her way through the house and toward the kitchen. Patch emerged from the laundry room, jabbing his finger over his shoulder he said, "I put the sheets in the washer. We are not sleeping on those. I can't imagine the last time my mother wash them." He chuckled. "If she ever did."

Delaney's brows raised to her hairline. "We, as in the two of us?"

Patch smirked