Page 122 of Live for Me

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know how to play,” Abbie stated, grabbing her beer and putting it to her lips.

My mouth went dry, thinking about how she got down on her knees for me earlier.

Lawson rolled his eyes. “You acted innocent, played me, and now you want my money.”

“Do you not understand the concept of poker?” I asked, tilting my head. Abbie bit the inside of her cheek before looking away,trying not to laugh. Lawson was silent. “How much did you bet, anyways?”

Abbie cleared her throat. “Oh, he owes me two hundred.”

This time, I was the one who threw my head back and laughed. Abbie joined in, and I swore I was in a damn dream—a beautiful, heavenly dream.

Then, that dream came to a screeching halt when I got a phone call from Ash.

Since it was concluded Abbie’s stalker was from Hayden, Ash asked Jake to look into Abbie’s mother. Jake, being the smart fucker he was, hacked into her only bank account to discover that every single month, on the dot, Sheri would receive a deposit.

It wasn’t a small deposit.

It was two grand.

Every. Single. Month.

Jake tracked it all the way back five years. Then, he hacked into the account the money was coming from. It was an account registered in Colorado Springs but there was no name or social security number attached to the account.

“You think that’s him?” Lawson asked, tucking his pistol in the back of his jeans, his eyes on the truck.

I looked over to him, reaching for the door handle. “At this point, I would be happy if it was,” I said, darkness lacing my voice. “Get it over with and move on.”

Lawson nodded, his lips ticking up on one side. “Let’s go find out.”

We got out, and as we headed to the trailer, I scanned the surrounding area.

Years ago, parts of the trailer park had been condemned due to bad storms, and the residents just moved on. Sheri Spears was probably the only one still living in this shit hole.

I pounded on the front door, rattling the entire thing. “Sheri,” I bellowed. “Open up.”

Lawson and I waited, listening for any movement from inside. My patience was thinning, and I was two seconds away from kicking the damn door in. My fist connected with it two more times. “Sheri! I know you’re in there! You don’t fucking go anywhere else.”

The last time Abbie saw her mother was the day the police dragged her away. From there, Sheri spent the next three years in and out of jail. She’d turned to drugs while Abbie was in high school, which was one of the many reasons why Pop got her out of there. Now, Sheri didn’t come into town—ever. Honestly, none of us knew how she was surviving. She had no money, no family, no friends.

She was entirely alone, and no one in Hayden felt sorry for her. She was a horrible woman inside and out.

“Kick it in.”

I twisted my neck, raising a brow at Lawson. “Whatever happened to patience is a virtue?”

“I’m not familiar with the term,” he deadpanned.

No, he wasn’t.

Sighing, I banged on the door again. “Sheri, I—”

“—I’m coming, dammit,” a harsh voice sounded on the other side of the door. “You cops never fucking wait.”

A second later, the front door was ripped open, revealing the one person I hated most in this world.

Jesus Christ, she even looked like a fucking corpse.

Her skin was pale and slightly yellow due to possible liver failure, the whites of her eyes resembling a highlighter, and there was nothing behind them. No feeling. No thoughts. No goddamn soul. Her hair was no longer bleach blonde like it had been. It was matted, gray, and thin. She was at least fifty pounds lighter than the last time I saw her, the stained Old Navy shirt drowning her, but I could see the points of her shoulders. Her forearms were covered in bruises and track marks—

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