Page 17 of Sinner's Secret

He had a system and it had worked pretty well.

Never get attached to any one person—so he kept moving, driving a cab was ideal.

Never bring someone home—so he didn’t have a home to live in, just his trunk.

But here he was watching over a woman, ready to kill any other asshole who might put his hands on her. A woman who, if she figured out how different he was, could end up killing him herself.

Yeah, he was an idiot.

Baz got out of the car and went into the diner and waited for Nika to notice him. She came over right away.

“Do you want a table?” she asked as if he were a normal customer.

He kept his voice low so no one could overhear them. “Naw, I just realized how creepy it would be for me to sit out there all night. So, I’m going to go to work. I’ll be back, like usual, in a few hours. Don’t leave here with anyone else.”

She gave him a look that said about time you came to your senses. “See you later.”

He left, got in his car, and drove to Joe’s.

It was busy at the pub and he had a string of people to drive home for the next few hours. The cab company dispatch kept offering him other fares, but he put himself on the flag only list for his entire shift despite dispatch whining.

“You look antsy,” Joe said to him about an hour before Nika’s shift ended. “What gives?”

Baz shrugged, but he didn’t stop drumming on the bar with his thumbs.

“Don’t give me that,” Joe said with a frown. “I’ve never seen you like this. What happened, did you meet a girl?”

His thumbs stuttered for a second or two before he found the beat again.

“Holy shit,” Joe said with a smile blooming on his face. “You did meet a girl.”

Baz rolled his eyes. “Not that kind of girl.”

“How many kinds are there?” Joe asked.

“It’s one of the waitresses at the diner. She’s got some trouble at home, you know what I mean?”

Joe’s smile died. “What happened?”

“I had to step in.” he put his hands up. “She’s okay, but we both had to give statements at the police station.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, but my boot has air conditioning now.”

Joe came around the bar and looked at Baz’s footwear. His eyebrows went up. “That’s a bullet hole.”

“Yes,” Baz said in a deliberately dry drawl. “I noticed that right after the gun went off.”

Joe blinked. “Gun? Shit, this is serious.”

“I know, this pair of boots is comfortable damn it. It’ll take weeks to break in another pair.” He sighed long and loud. “That is, when I can afford another pair. Steel-toed boots aren’t cheap.”

“You wear steel-toed boots to drive a cab?”

“Of course, for the same reason cowboys wear cowboy boots.”

“Why’s that?”

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