Page 23 of Broken Skulls

He slows his steps, running his hand over his beard. “What happened here?”

I look at the beat-up Dodge.

“It’s a junkyard. What do you fucking mean what happened here?”

Dan squats, picking up a large shard of broken glass. His gaze roams over the evidence of my woman’s pain.

“JD, I’m going to say this once. I allow you to be friends with Lily because she loves you, and you both see parts of this world the same. But if I, for one minute, think you’ve got something shady going on, I’ll put a stop to it.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a goddamn promise.”

“Good. I hope you’d protect her at all costs.”

He nods, giving my yard another look. “I guess I’ll report back to the boss that nothing is amiss.”

I take my hat off, running my hand over my brow. “I don’t know why she’s up my ass all of a sudden.”

“She didn’t like your joke the other night,” he says, like it should be obvious.

“My joke?”

“The one about having a woman in your basement.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t have Tank’s ex in your basement, do you?” he asks as he climbs up in the cab of his truck.

“Again, she has a name.” I wave to him and head toward the house, hoping he doesn’t remember he asked me a question.

He chuckles, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear his door close. I’m going to have to be more careful. When I’m with her, I forget the rest of the world exists.

I deliver her breakfast uninterrupted. She doesn’t speak to me nor do I to her. I’m sure she has a lot of thoughts running through her mind. And I have one thing on mine.

How to get Mr. Baxter here.

I saw her rage last night, but I saw a lot of other things too.

I’m going to have to put it on hold for the time being because I’m meeting up with Lily at the warehouse. I’m helping her withthe last bit of electrical work on the lamps for the auction. I hope fucking Jesse isn’t there.

“Hey,” Lily says when I join her on the patio.

I give her a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down beside her. “Shit, you made quite a few of these.”

“Yeah, well they go so fast.”

“I’m not complaining. I love that my junk helps.”

She smiles at me. “It’s been fun doing this with you for so many years.”

We get to work. It gives me time to think about Mr. Baxter.

Mr. Baxter.

Mr. Baxter.

Mr. Baxter.

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