Page 5 of Never Bargain with the Boss

“That worked. My wife says thanks.” I hear a smacking sound in the background and he grunts apologetically. “I mean,wesay thanks. And sorry for jumping down your throat. What do you want?”

For a minute there, Cole almost sounded… human, before he went grumpy again.

“Oh, never mind. I’ll uh… I’ll figure it out myself. Sorry again.”

I’m about to hang up because exactly how terrifying Cole Harrington can be is coming back to me quickly and I’m not sure how I could’ve forgotten or downplayed it in my memories.

“Riley, I haven’t slept in days and don’t have time to fuck around. Shit… I mean, fudge around. Shit, I mean… shoot.” He sighs heavily, sounding exhausted, and something about the way he’s correcting his language because of a baby who can’t understand a word makes me smile.

“How’d you know it was me?” I ask, because I totally caught that he said my name. He probably has some private investigator, super-tech app that gives out the caller ID no matter who’s calling. Or maybe he recognized my voice?

“This is the same number you had before. I memorized it.”

His answer is short and to the point. The ramifications are anything but. “You memorized my phone number years ago and have just been waiting for me to call?”

He grunts. I’m not sure if it’s a yes or a no, but it seems to be the only answer he’s going to give. “What do you want?” he repeats, more forcefully this time.

“Oh, uhm…” I stammer, really not sure this is such a good idea anymore.

A vision of Austin sitting in his recliner, Beth smoking on the front porch, and whatever kids they have staying with them doing homework at the kitchen table while the oldest kid cooks dinner flashes through my head. If that’s it, it’s okay. But what if that’s not all it is? So I swallow my pride and ask for help, something I hate to do. Something I don’t do, have never done.

“I wondered if I might could ask you for a teeny-tiny favor?” I let my voice lift several octaves above my natural timber to hopefully encourage the menacing man to agree.

“Anything,” he replies instantly. “I told you that.”

I relax a bit. He did tell me that, right after bluntly informing me that my biological father had died of a heart attack mere days after I’d met him for the first time and my last genetic link on this earth was gone, just like my mother.

“Back when I was in foster care,” I start, figuring if he memorized my phone number, he probably remembers my history, “I was adopted by Austin and Beth Collins. I ran away about a year later, but Austin tracks me down every once in a while. He called me tonight, told me to come home and bring him the severance money I just got because my nanny gig ended. I told him no, of course, but then he said something that made me worry…” I trail off, nibbling at the cuticle on my thumb as I replay Austin’s words in my head.

“Are you safe?”

“Huh?” I shake my head, refocusing. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m worried about the kids with him and wondered if you might check in on them somehow. Make sure they’re not being grossly neglected or worse.” I let that hang in the air, not willing to give voice to what could be happening in a worst-case scenario.

“You think he’s hurting them?” Cole growls, sounding terrifying.

“No, no, no,” I rush to say, but then swallow. “Austin and Beth aren’t that type. Or they weren’t. But I got a bad feeling and I can’t exactly roll up to the front door and demand proof they’re taking care of the kids. Just better to check than be sorry.”

“Why not call in for a welfare check with the state?” Cole questions flatly.

I hum, now chewing on my lip as I consider what would seem to be a reasonable suggestion. “Because if it’s the usual neglect, the kids might be better off there than where they’d be sent. Austin and Beth aren’t fairy godparents, but they’re not the worst either, and I’d hate for the kids to pay the price if I’m overreacting to Austin’s threats.”

“He threatened you?”

Cole’s voice is nothing more than an ice-cold rumble, and I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “He called me a ‘pretty little thing’.” I know that’s not bad. Hell, I’ve been called worse by men on the street, but it felt ickier from the man who once claimed he wanted to be my father. Hell, who according to the state actuallyismy adoptive father. “And he’s been showing up at the places I go lately. Stuff like that. But I’m fine. I can handle that myself. Just check on the kids for me, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, and the knot in my gut releases. If Cole says they’re fine, I’ll know they are. He’s not going to leave kids in danger or any type of sketchy situation. He’s scary as hell, but he’s good at his core. Reading people is one of my many superpowers, one that’s saved my ass more than a few times, soI trust my instincts implicitly, and they tell me that Cole is one of the good guys despite his gruff façade.

“Thanks.”

“On one condition,” he adds, and my breath hitches. His voice goes quiet as he asks, “Can you come help with my son for a few days? Janey is amazing, and Emmett is awesome, but I’m a complete fuckup. I mean, fudge-up. And you obviously know what you’re doing because the gas trick worked. And you said your job ended, so you’re available. I’ll pay double whatever your usual rate is.”

It’s virtually a long, rushing, run-on ramble of words from the typically brusque man, and I can’t help but laugh. “I could come for a little bit if it’d help.”

I make the decision instantly, instinctually, the way I decide most things, letting life lead me to where I’m supposed to be. Some people would call that flighty. I call it understanding that life is full of curveballs when you least expect them, so there’s no use in trying to live with a plan etched in stone because the only things for sure are death, taxes, and change, three things I’m all too familiar with.

“I’ll send you the address.”

My phone dings in my hand, and I pull it away to look at the text message from Cole. It’s not too far, a few hours’ drive at most, which would give me the distraction and distance from Austin that I need. “Give me two days to pack up here, and I’ll be there.”

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