Page 29 of Small Town Hunter

“It’s simple,” I tell her.

“Simple?”

“You either you go back with him, or–”

You stay with me.

She can’t stay with me.

“I don’t want to go back!” She grabs my arm and her pleading eyes are like warm rain in the cracked clay of my soul.Oh, hell.

“Please, let me go with you. I’ll do anything,” she pleads.

Anything.

I push her lower lip with my thumb. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Her pupils dilate under my touch. “Please,” she whispers.

“I can’t be liable for you,” I say, fighting with my judgment. “I have a job to do. You’ll only slow me down.”

She looks down at the Reverend.

“I made a mistake,” she whispers.

“Leaving wasn’t a mistake, Trina. Your timing is just pig-shit.”

McCall’s gone inside again. He can’t go anywhere after what I did to his car, but that isn’t a comfort since it’s clear I need to get out of this town like a bat out of hell.

“You can come with me. But it’s now or never,” I tell Trina, hoping she’ll saynever.

This is the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever done. But with Trina bear-hugging me, pushing all up on me with her softness everywhere I’m hard, cold reason ain’t doing the talking.

“I’ll give you money. Anything — whatever you want,” she promises wildly. “Thank you! Thank you!”

“If you go back to him it’s your ass. Understand?” I growl. “No second chances.”

Keeping His Holiness in check with the gun, I direct Trina into my Challenger to find my spare set of cuffs.

Once her former lover is trussed like a pig at the barbecue, I run his pockets and put all his belongings in the bed of his King Ranch.

“Should we take his phone?” Trina asks helpfully.

“And add ten more years to my sentence? No. Leave everything.”

“You redneck bastard,” Wilson spits. “I’ll make you pay for this!”

Trina glares at him. “All your money is just a show. You don’t have a soul. You are of the devil.” She is shaking head to toe. “You’re a terrible man and one day everyone will know it. I believe in God and his son Jesus Christ, but not the way you preach it. God is love and compassion. You’re nothing but hate! And guess what? One day I’ll get a good man to give my delicate rose but it willneverbe you! You— pervert!”

She exhales.

“Go get our stuff then, darlin’. Hurry,” I tell her.

The plump son of a bitch struggles against the cuffs as Trina for once listens to me and hurries back into the motel. His tomato-red neck bulges with fury against his tab collar. “Littlewhore…”

I consider him. “With just a couple guys, you’d have me beat. Instead you come here by yourself waving that pea-shooter likeyou could do something. Reverend, are you that confident or just dumb?”

“I didn’t know she was with a — a man like you. You clearly don’t know who I am. I amtheReverend Spud Wilson.”

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