The tattooed, grouchy bear of a man was right. I really didn’t like that about him.
“Argh! Fine. Okay. Let me think. Can I borrow your phone?”
He stood there staring at me, unmoving.
“For Pete’s sake. I’m not going to steal it. I just need to make a quick call.”
On a long-suffering sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“Thank you,” I said pointedly, then stomped back into my motel room. Waylay was still watching her movie, now with her hands stacked behind her head.
I dug through my suitcase to find a notebook and went back outside.
“You keep a notebook of phone numbers with you?”
Knox was peering over my shoulder.
I shushed him and dialed.
“The hell do you want?”
My sister’s voice always managed to make me cringe inwardly.
“An explanation for starters,” I snapped. “Where are you?”
“Where are you?” she mimicked me in a high-pitched Muppet voice that I’d always hated.
I heard a prolonged exhale.
“Are you smoking in my car?”
“Looks like it’s my car now.”
“You know what? Forget the car. We have bigger things to discuss. You have a daughter! A daughter you abandoned in a motel room.”
“Got shit to do. Can’t have a kid holding me back for the next while. Got something big in the works. Why ya think I named her Waylay? Figured she could hang out with her Aunt Goody Two-Shoes till I get back.”
I was so mad I could only sputter.
Knox snatched the phone from my ear. “You listen and you listen good, Tina. You’ve got exactly thirty minutes to get back here, or I’m callin’ the damn cops.”
I watched as his face got harder, his jaw tighter, showing off little hollows under his cheekbones. His eyes went so cold I shivered.
“As always, you’re a real fuckin’ idiot,” he said. “Just remember, next time you get picked up by the cops, you’ll have warrants. That means your stupid ass will be sittin’ behind bars, and I don’t see anyone rushin’ to bail you out.”
He paused for a moment and then said, “Yeah. Fuck you too.”
He swore again and lowered his phone.
“How exactly do you and my sister know each other?” I wondered out loud.
“Tina’s been a pain in everyone’s ass since she blew into town a year ago. Always lookin’ for an easy buck. Tried a couple of slip and fall schemes on some of the local businesses, including your pal Justice. Every time she gets a little money in her pocket, she’s rip-roarin’ drunk and wreaking havoc all over town. Petty shit. Vandalism.”
Yeah, that sounded like my sister.
“What did she say?” I asked, not really wanting the answer.
“Said she doesn’t give a shit if we call the cops. She’s not comin’ back.”
“Did she say that?” I’d always wanted kids. But not like this. Not jumping in one step shy of puberty when the formative years were already gone.
“Said she’d be back when she felt like it,” he said, thumbing through his phone.
Some things never changed. My sister had always made her own rules. As an infant, she’d slept all day and stayed up all night. As a toddler, she was kicked out of three daycares for biting. And once we hit school age, well, it was a whole new ballgame of rebellion.
“What are you doing?” I asked Knox as he brought the phone back up to his ear.
“Last thing I want to,” he drawled.
“Buying tickets to the ballet?” I hypothesized.
He didn’t answer, just strode into the parking lot with rigid shoulders. I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, but there were a lot of fuck yous and kiss my asses.
I added “phone etiquette” to the growing list of things Knox Morgan was bad at.
He returned looking even angrier. Ignoring me, he produced a wallet and fished out a few bills, then fed them into the soda machine.
“What do you want?” he muttered.
“Uh. Water, please.”
He punched the buttons harder than I thought necessary. And a bottle of water and two Yellow Lightnings fell out onto the ground.
“Here.” He shoved the water at me and headed back to the room.
“Uh. Thanks?” I called after him.
I debated for about thirty seconds whether or not I should just start walking until I found a new reality that was less terrible. But it was just a mental exercise. There was no way I could walk away. I had a new responsibility. And with that responsibility would come some sense of purpose. Probably.
I returned to my room and found Knox examining the lock on the door. “No finesse,” he complained.
“Told her she should’ve picked it,” Waylay said, cracking open her soda.
“It’s barely eight in the morning, and you gave her a soda,” I hissed at Knox as I resumed my sentry stance in front of the mound in the corner.
He looked at me, then beyond me. Nervously I spread my arms and tried to block his view.
“That some kind of tablecloth?” he asked, peering past me.
“Wedding dress,” Waylay announced. “Mom said it was ugly as hell.”
“Yeah, well, Tina wouldn’t know good taste if it hit her over the head with a Birkin bag,” I said, feeling defensive.
“Does that dress mean I have an uncle out there somewhere?” she asked, nodding at the pile of lace and underskirt that had once made me feel like a fairy princess but now only made me feel like a fool.
“No,” I said firmly.
Knox’s eyebrows raised fractionally. “You just decided to take a wedding dress on a road trip?”
“I really don’t see how this is any of your business,” I told him.
“Hair’s done up like she was going someplace fancy,” Waylay mused, eyeing me.
“Sure looks that way, Way,” Knox agreed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking amused.
I did not like the two of them ganging up against me.
“Let’s worry less about my hair and a dress than what we’re going to do next,” I suggested. “Waylay, did your mom say anything about where she was going?”
The girl’s eyes zeroed back on the screen. Her slim shoulders shrugged. “Dunno. Just said I was your problem now.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Thankfully I didn’t have to answer because a brisk knock had all three of us looking at the open door.
The man standing in it made me suck in a little breath. Knockemout sure grew them hot. He was dressed in a spotless dark blue uniform with a very shiny badge. There was a nice layer of stubble accentuating a strong jaw. His shoulders and chest were broad, hips and waist tapered. His hair was close to blond. There was something familiar about his eyes.
“Knox,” he said.
“Nash.” His tone was as cold as his eyes.
“Hey, Way,” the newcomer said.
Waylay gave the man a head nod. “Chief.”
His eyes came to me.
“You called the police?” I squeaked at Knox. My sister was a terrible person, and I was definitely going to let her know that. But calling the police felt so final.
“YOU’RE NOT STAYING HERE.”
Naomi
“You must be Naomi,” the cop said.
I might have been mid-panic attack, but I kind of liked the way he said my name in a friendly drawl.
Knox apparently did not like it because he was suddenly placing his muscled bulk directly in front of me, feet planted wide, arms crossed.