Page 40 of I Should Hate You-but I Don't

"Twenty and twenty-one."

His dad whistled between his teeth. "Pruitt's demands were simple. Keep the girls safe, and don't let them find out he's a walking dead man. You've fulfilled your end. The girls are adults. Let them go."

Anger coiled in his stomach, pitching him forward on the chair. "Kingsley's running his ass off all across the northern states trying to catch Pruitt's daughter. I wouldn't say she or Kingsley are safe because of your damn favor. The other daughter suffers every God damn day because I can't love her the way she needs loved." The hum in his ears intensified. "She lugs a fucking backpack around constantly like a ball and chain shackled to her because she's afraid of losing one more thing in her life because she's already lost her mom, her dad, and her sister. So, don't fucking tell me it's impossible to see Pruitt. Make it happen."

He shoved the chair back and walked away when the announcement came that the visit was over.

Chapter Eighteen

Zane

—Two years ago—

––––––––

The halftime show started. Zane tipped back the beer and watched the cheerleaders run out onto the field when fast footsteps warned him River was home from work. His gut tightened in anticipation of seeing her.

She stopped at the entrance to the room, and her whole body sighed with relief at the sight of him.

Her backpack slid off her slim shoulders and slowly traveled down her arms, landing with a softplopbehind her. The only time she let herself take a break from having the heavy load was when he was in sight of her.

"You're here." She smiled, hurrying forward.

She sat beside him on the couch, kicked off her shoes, and put her feet on the cushion. The action caused her to lean against him. He set the can on the end table, prepared for River to invade his personal space. He'd gotten used to the way she always touched and pressed her body against him.

Gone was the innocence of a teenager. The signs of a woman were all around her. He noticed how the men in Gem Haven looked at her. Most days, he found himself pissed off that the members looked at her the way he felt.

He never asked to be in the position that he was in. If he'd met River six months ago, he'd be all over what she offered.

But those years of drying her tears, comforting her fears, and proving he'd stay in her life held him back.

She turned and looped her arms around his neck. "Guess what?"

"I can't imagine," he drawled.

"Lori, let me serve food during the last hour of my shift, and I got a hundred and fifteen dollars in tips." She bounced against him. "How much does it cost to hire a detective?"

He'd need to talk to Lori. River still had two months to go until she turned eighteen. Without disclosing that information to the others, he needed River to stay in the background. If the state found out she was here, they'd take her back into custody.

And he'd go straight to prison.

"A lot," he said.

"I knowthat." She laid her head on his shoulder and nuzzled against his neck. "I need to know the exact amount, so I can hire him to find Kenna."

"Thirty thousand, at least."

He had no idea how much one would cost, but he set the amount high—too high for her to achieve that much money anytime soon. Kingsley was as talented as any investigator at finding someone.

It was a waste of her money to hire a detective.

Besides, the P.I. would likely find out Tom Pruitt sat on death row if he dug into River's family history. He'd need to take care of that before it happened.

"It's going to take me a long time." She sighed, turning her head. "Do you think Kingsley will find Kenna? It's been almost a year since he lost track of her."

"He's trying, sweetheart."

His brother had found more dead-ends than clues. Kenna was a year older than River and no longer tracked by the state. They couldn't buy their way into her file or stake out the social worker anymore.

---