Page 26 of Cold Foot Cash

Bonus—she’d made a new friend.

Chapter Five

Cash squeezed his fists tight and then splayed the fingers of his right hand to try and rid himself of the electric tingling there, where Harley’s hand had touched his.

He turned just outside the door of the motel to go back in there and ask if they could hang out longer, but then changed his mind and forced himself to head back for the parking lot.

Oh, he liked her. He did. He liked all the real and vulnerable layers she had allowed him to see, and fuck it had been so long since he’d felt a connection like this with another living soul.

She cried easy.

She smiled easy.

She felt everything, and he could tell what she was feeling from the animated expressions on her face. God, she was pretty. And complicated, and the perfect combination of sweet and sassy. That woman already had him on his toes.

He clenched his fists again, wishing he could go in and fake another promise about friendship, and shake her hand all over again just for the excuse to touch her.

It was late but the street was busy still. This was the main strip of bars in town, so this was the hangout. The cold bite of wind felt good against his bare arms as he strode past the bar and to the back parking lot. The gravel crunched under the sole of his boots, but he barely registered the crisp noise because he was lost in thoughts about Harley in that sexy tank top. It wasn’t until he heard his name called that he realized there were people gathered around his truck.

The two girls from earlier had apparently joined up with the dickholes who had taken a picture of Harley earlier.

Cash’s truck didn’t have a front window anymore, and from the piles of glass on the sides of his truck, he bet they’d busted those out as well. Shhhit.

The big guy from earlier held a bat, and clacked it twice against his hands. “I tried to tell you this is our bar.”

Cash scratched his temple and tried to hide his smile. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“What are you going to do?” the guy asked, stepping in front of his guys, closing the distance between him and Cash. “Your friends are gone. You’re alone.”

The owl inside of him disagreed, but these asshats didn’t need to know about him. Not now, at least.

Cash squinted one eye closed. “Last chance.”

The guy laughed, then looked back at his friends, who were chuckling too.

“Boy, do you know who we are?”

Cash cracked his knuckles—a habit before a fight. “Why the fuck would I care who you are? You broke my windows when I wasn’t even here. You beat an inanimate object, and it took what? Six of you? To fight something that couldn’t fight back? You’re trash. That’s all I need to know about you.”

The two girls looked uncertain, and quietly meandered back toward the bar.

“Hey, where are you going?” Jackass called out to them.

Cash glanced at them and back to Jackass. “They’re wearing about and inch of fabric between them. Let them go get warm.”

The anger in Jackass’s eyes doubled as he dragged his gaze back to Cash. “I’m going to kill you.”

Cash didn’t hide the smile now. “Oh yeah? Come on then. Do it.”

The guy yelled and lifted the bat, rushed Cash, and swung.

Cash stayed relaxed where he was until the moment that bat was about to crack him across the skull. Then he moved. Hecaught the bat and yanked it out of Jackass’s hands so hard, the guy yelped in pain, and the sound of his shoulder popping filled the air.

What happened next, he couldn’t get in trouble for, right? Wreck couldn’t get mad at him. Kade couldn’t get mad at him. The Cold Foot Crew couldn’t give him any shit, because he’d done this fight right—self-defense only.

He didn’t start fights, but he finished them.

That’s why he’d gone to Cold Foot Prison.

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