Page 27 of The Love Shack

Now, here with Berkley so many years later...maybe that was changing.

5

“Okay,” she said, tilting away from him with a dark frown. “Back up. What do you mean you got her to end her reign of terror against me?”

Incredibly aware that she wore only a swimsuit while he was fully clothed in a shirt, jeans and boots, his gaze dipped over her.Notlooking at her body became harder by the second. “I told her that I saw her creepy husband repeatedly coming on to you, and I saw you repeatedly tell him to get lost.”

Berkley blinked. “You did?”

Back then, he hadn’t missed much. He’d felt like his survival depended on him being aware, and that was true as far as it went—yet with Berkley, he’d always noticed her a bit more than anyone else.

There’d been certain “types” in their neighborhood. Those who needed something, those who’d take what they wanted and those who were utterly lost. Berkley had stood out as something else. Quiet but not cowed, determined but not ruthless. Dedicated to her mother and that yappy little dog in a way he hadn’t seen before.

Look at her now. She’d spent her childhood helping to care for her mom, and as an adult, she cared for animals. Yet she kept to herself as much as she could, not cold and standoffish, just very private—not asking anything of others.

Her uniqueness was something that couldn’t be ignored.

“I saw what you were going through,” he said, and didn’t elaborate further.

Her expression softened. “A spectacle like that would have been hard to miss.”

“I’m sure for you, being in the middle of it, it felt that way. But think about it. People sold themselves on the corner. Others OD’d on their front steps. There were street races, brawls and shoot-outs monthly.” Talking about it put him back there, to where he could almost smell the tar on the street, hear the shouts and curses, and feel the threat of too many eyes watching him. “The gangs were always trolling for recruits.” Outside...and in his home.

It sickened him to recall that his parents hadn’t offered any safety. No, they’d often been complicit with a gang and different dealers. A son? They saw him as a ball and chain, and often his dad accused him of thinking he was too good to carry his own weight.

By helping with their illegal activities.

Tension seeped into his neck and tightened his jaw, a bead of sweat rolled down his temple, and then suddenly, Hero was there in front of him, watching him with a whine, catching the hem of his shirt and giving it a tug.

“He’s saving you,” Berkley murmured. “You might want to let him know you’re okay.”

Lawson regrouped.

Subtly, through his nose, he inhaled a cleansing breath. As if he hadn’t just been dragged back from the hell of his youth, he idly reached out to scratch Hero’s ear. His fur was soft, almost velvety there, and it felt soothing to touch him.

Releasing him, Hero sat back on his haunches and closed his eyes in pleasure.

Berkley didn’t say anything else, but he knew she was aware of his struggle. Not about to mention the relief Hero had just given him, Lawson got back to his point. “A high school girl having a fling with an older guy was tame in comparison to what we regularly saw.”

She hesitated, then nodded her agreement. “I guess, but you’re right. It hadn’t felt that way to me.”

“That’s because Sabrina Durkinson pushed it.” He shifted, which put Hero on alert again. “Relax, buddy. It’s all good.”

Hero tipped his head, snuffled against him, then sprawled out on the rough ground with a sigh of relaxation. He looked content with his bed of sand and rocks and weeds.

“He’s astute” was all Berkley said.

No kidding. It made Lawson wonder if Hero was trained beyond being a companion dog. He’d have to remember to stay chill so the dog wouldn’t fret. “I noticed when the jerk showed up at your place a few times, and when you argued with him on your porch.” Now, looking back, Lawson wished he’d taken the guy apart. “I also sawhershow up at your house.” Durkinson’s wife. Sabrina had been no more than a female version of Chad, both of them cruel.

Covering her face, Berkley gave a long, aggrieved groan that ended with a rough laugh. “God, that was such a horrendous day.” She dropped her hands and then used her bare toes to rub Hero’s hip. Probably her way of letting the dog know she was fine.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“Why not? We’re doing all this confessing stuff, right? But you first.” She nodded at him. “Let’s hear it. What did you do?”

Yeah, he should probably get it over with, especially since he didn’t know how she’d react. “The newscaster lady came tearing out of your house in a fury, all dressed up like she was ready to go on the air but with steam coming out her ears.” He especially remembered that because she’d stood out so badly. She might as well have been waving red meat in front of a pack of hungry jackals. Sure, people knew her roots and generally cheered for her, but that wouldn’t have stopped one of them from taking what they wanted, like her jewelry, clothes, car—orher. A lot of brutality happened in their neighborhood, sometimes in the middle of the day. Those who saw it pretended they didn’t; it was safer for them that way.

Luck was on the news lady’s side, though, because other than appearing red-faced with anger, she’d reached her car at the curb without anyone approaching her.

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