Page 72 of Renegade

He took another long drink. “You never had your dads teach you how to cook while growing up?”

Uh-oh.

I was two bottles past keeping my mouth shut. At this point in my drinking, I’d hand over my social security card and bank information if he asked for it.

I took the bottle from his hand and upended it for a little more liquid courage. “Well, Josué and Isaac didn’t exactly raise me. My mother was an addict growing up. So, while other girls were worrying about why the star quarterback hadn’t called them back, I was worrying about where my next meal was coming from. She tended to take off on these benders and leave me to fend for myself. I stuck to canned soups and things like that—foods that didn’t require electricity to be eaten.

“Josué had been my guidance counselor at school and when he couldn’t reach my mother over some trouble I’d gotten into, he showed up at the duplex I’d been living in. If he hadn’t shown up when he did, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me,” I paused, as memories from that night came back to me, wanting to shut down.

Mike’s expression hadn’t changed once since I started talking. He was also a detective though, so keeping his face impassive was part of the job.

I forced myself to continue. “When I started college, I was more concerned with getting good grades and proving to both Josué and Isaac that I wasn’t going to turn out like my mother than I was with learning how to cook. Then, I wanted to get a job and start making my own money. I found that drive-thru worked well enough and never took the time. It sounds stupid.”

He reached over and pulled my hand into his. “It’s not stupid. I can’t believe you went through all that and turned out like you did. Statistically, you’re an anomaly. Who gives a fuck if you can cook or not? You got me for that.”

We passed the bottle back and forth and watched as fireworks exploded in the distance. And for the first time that night, I saw the situation from his perspective, and was finally able to laugh about it.

Chapter Twelve

Late July 2014

Me-

“So, I’m grabbing dinner with David. Will you be around later?”

I hadn’t made a lot of effort to see David lately—between the club and work, I didn’t have a lot of free time. I owed him a night out though—he’d called me earlier, sounding like shit.

He’d fallen into a bottle of whiskey the minute their relationship imploded and it didn’t sound like he’d managed to climb out yet. He was hung up on this idea that Landon, the man Elizabeth had been sleeping with, had broken into their house.

I’d rolled my eyes and told him,“He’s clean, David. Guy doesn’t even have so much as a speeding ticket. So, there’s no chance of me bringing him in and holding him indefinitely as you so helpfully recommended the other night.”

That was the problem with the break-in—there were no prints and the only thing stolen had been a picture. In all honesty, it wasn’t really high up on our list of cases to solve. Plus, Landon Scott had a solid alibi for that night.

My priority had been keeping Grey happy. We’d begun picking up Sons of Death members for petty shit and that was going about like I’d expected.

It wasn’t a productive day unless I was getting death threats, right?

Lauren replied,

“I promised Elizabeth I would go over and help her pack up some things. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night, unfortunately. Call me later?”

I stared sullenly at the message. I didn’t know why it bothered me—it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen her almost every night since we got together.

One month in and I still wasn’t tired of her. It was weird to think that I hadn’t been against monogamy, I’d just been sleeping with the wrong women.

It had shocked the hell out of me.

I’d fallen head over ass for Lauren and anytime there was a lull in my schedule, I was thinking about her.

I glanced down at my watch and saw that I still had a good fifteen minutes before David arrived. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number.

“Hey,” she said in a soft voice.

I smiled, just like I did anytime I heard her voice.You know, real manly shit.“Hey yourself, Red. How’s it going?”

There was a lot of background noise and she sighed. “I’ve been recruited to pack up the guest bedroom and these boxes are,” she huffed, “so fucking heavy. Why can’t they just stay together so we don’t have to play counselor?”

I laughed, “Darlin’, I have no idea. So, you don’t think you can break away early and meet me?”

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