Page 26 of Bad Guys Need Love Too

Every time he lost, he pretended to be disgruntled and she tipped her head back and laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. It was the most fun he’d had in, well, maybe ever.

Until Dave, his stupid foster dad, came out of his Jack Daniels coma. He slammed their trailer door open and staggered outside, wearing nothing but a dingy tank top and a pair of even dingier boxer briefs.

“Did you steal my wallet again, you ungrateful little fuck?” he shouted.

Ren’s heart leapt into his throat as Lark’s eyes widened. “Go inside,” he told her. “Now.”

But she didn’t. She sat there, probably too stunned to move, as Dave staggered across the yard in their direction.

“I didn’t steal anything,” Ren told him.

It was a lie, of course. He’d stolen the wallet, cleaned it out, and bought enough groceries to get through the week. The evidence was stashed in the go-bag he kept hidden in the woods just outside the trailer park.

And if the missing wallet pissed Dave off, wait until he found out Ren had hacked the state’s records and made sure all future foster stipends would come in Ren’s name to the PO box he’d paid a homeless guy to get for him. He figured he’d get a few checks before Dave got up the balls to call and figure out what was going on. In the meantime, he’d blame his wife for spending the money and she’d blame him. It was the perfect crime as far as Ren was concerned.

Dave grabbed a fistful of Ren’s T-shirt and yanked him right up onto his toes. “You’re lying,” he hissed, making Ren cringe atthe stench of body odor and alcohol that clung to the guy like cologne. “You’ll give me back what’s mine or you’ll be missing the days when that black eye was the worst of your injuries.”

Ren tried to shove him back, but Dave outclassed him in height and weight. “You probably lost it at the bar.”

A plausible explanation. Dave spent every other night at the strip club. Yvette, his equally unpleasant wife, was a bartender there. Best Ren could tell, she was skimming at least 10% off the nightly take, based on the money she usually came home with.

He’d save that information to use against her on a rainy day.

Dave drew back his fist, and Ren closed his eyes, bracing for the blow. He couldn’t fight back and he couldn’t argue his way out of this. All he could do was hope he didn’t cry in front of Lark.

“Fuck!”

Ren cracked one eye open in time to see Dave clutching the back of his head. His gaze shot back to Lark, who was wielding a shovel like a baseball bat. She swung it again, this time whacking Dave’s shoulder. “Leave him alone!” She turned toward her trailer. “Someone help! Call the police!”

She wasn’t strong enough to really hurt him. Hell, she looked like she was struggling to even hold that shovel up at all. But she’d pissed Dave off, nonetheless. He growled like a pissed off bear and lunged at her.

The thought of that asshole getting anywhere near her set his blood on fire. Rage like he’d never felt roared through him and he kicked Dave as hard as he could in the back of the knee. He landed in a heap with a grunt of pain that was music to Ren’s ears.

“I’m gonna kill both you little shits,” he spit out as he tried, and failed, to get back up on his feet.

He’d do it, too. Ren knew that. The only reason he hadn’t killed Ren yet was that he was still worth some money, and Dave was generally too lazy to do much more than smack him around a little. But this was the angriest Ren had ever seen him, and he was looking like at Lark—hisLark—with blood in his eyes.

“Run,” he told her.

Tears filled her eyes. “I’m not leaving you!”

His heart cracked wide open. His parents had abandoned him. Every foster family he’d ever been with had abandoned him. But this girl who’d only known him for two hours was ready to do battle at his side.

And he couldn’t let her do it. She’d already seen way too much of his twisted life. It was time for him to leave this place—and her—behind.

Ren snatched the shovel from her and swung it with all his might. The sickly sound it made when it connected with Dave’s thick skull was something Ren would never forget. Dave hit the ground, face first, unconscious.

“Is he dead?” Lark whispered, looking horrified.

Ren glanced at Dave’s back, both relieved and irritated that he was clearly still breathing. “He’s alive. I can’t be here when he wakes up, though. When the police show up and ask, you tell them I hit him with the shovel to defend myself. Don’t tell them it was your shovel.”

“You’re leaving? Like, for good?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go into town and call CPS. They’ll put me with another family. Maybe even in another town.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, and it was the most beautiful and terrible thing he’d ever seen. Someone like her should never cry. But having her cry for him was…humbling. “I won’t see you again?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“No.”

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