Page 10 of Hell or High Water

Insultedwasn’t the right word. It was too weak. Lacked the depth of what I was experiencing. Never had I been spoken to like this in my life—and once guys in school had found out my mom was a stripper, I’d had some lewd things said to me.

I just stood there. Saying nothing. When the tears stung my eyes, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stop them, so I moved before he saw that he had affected me. I walked to the bedroom, keeping my head up and directed away from him until I was safely inside the room, behind the closed door. Pressing my lips together, I closed my eyes as a tear rolled down my face silently.

I missed my momma. I missed home. All the pain and hollowness that losing her had left behind began to unravel at once. I’d been fighting and struggling to get things handled since her death, and I’d not had time to truly grieve.

Than’s words had ripped down the wall where I had buried all my grief, and it came pouring out with excruciating pain.

I went to the bed and slipped off my shoes, then curled up on my side to stare out the window. I realized Satan was already here, and he had blue eyes, brown hair that was naturally highlighted by the sun, a chiseled jaw, wide shoulders…complete physical perfection.

Five

Than

Finishing the last of my sandwich, I shifted my eyes off the television to look at the closed bedroom door for at least the fifteenth time since I’d sat down to eat. If she wanted to stay in there and sulk, then it would make being in here a hell of a lot more enjoyable. I hadn’t known throwing facts at her would send her running and shut her up, or I’d have walked in the door, spewing them.

Because even when she was being snarky, that voice of hers had a sultry sound to it that didn’t need to be coming out of a mouth like hers. It was just shy of being too wide with a generously plump bottom lip. It was already lethal. To most men. Not me. I was immune. I knew better. She was the screwed-up daughter of a stripper with major daddy issues. Those were the crazy kind. I steered clear of them.

Picking up my soda, I took a long drink, then set it beside my plate on the coffee table. The Braves game was on, and I should be watching at Gathe’s, but I was here. Watching it alone. I needed more food.

Standing up, I started for the refrigerator, but moved over closer to her door to listen. Make sure she wasn’t on the phone, talking to anyone. The sooner I found something to use against her, the sooner I was back home. The sound of running water was all I heard. She must have gotten in the shower. Tonight, when she went to sleep, I was going to go through every single text, app, and call on her phone. I’d find something. Hell, maybe by tomorrow, I’d have my life back.

I wondered if Jayda had made game food. I should text her and see if she would send some out to me. Picking up my phone, I noticed two missed text messages.

Gathe: Fuck, man. I heard what Linc has you doing. That sucks ass. Is she hot at least?

Hotdidn’t describe her. She was more than hot. I’d go with fire. But fire wasn’t enough when she was fucking crazy and would likely do psycho shit. Not that a guy would mind if she decided to stalk him. He’d probably enjoy it.

I realized I was scowling at the phone. I read the next text.

Ransom: Just because Linc has you playing babysitter doesn’t mean you can’t work on your laptop. We need the new labels ordered and the corks we are switching to. The email is backed up too. Handle it.

My brother loved to act as if he owned our family’s whiskey distillery, but that would be Dad. Rolling my eyes, I found Jayda’s contact and shot her a text, asking for game food. She was Linc’s cook and house cleaner.

Luther Levine lived in one wing of the house. Linc, his wife, and their daughter in the other. Luther and Linc had had bought this place together, not thinking either would marry. Then, surprise, Linc’s accidental wife showed up, wanting a divorce so she could get married to someone else, and had a little girl with his eyes. Things had worked out for the best though. Linc was actually happy at times now. “My girls,” as he called them, had become his center. It made him more bearable.

Luther…yeah, no one was marrying his ass. He’d end up fucking their mom, sister, aunt, and niece at the rehearsal dinner. The man might be my hero. Grinning, I stuck my phone back into my pocket and went to grab another handful of berries.

My phone started ringing. While chewing, I got it back out, then held it between my shoulder and ear, still searching for more to eat.

“Yeah,” I said.

“You read the text, and I got no answer,” Gathe replied.

I really needed to turn theReadnotification off on my phone.

“I’m busy trying to find food,” I told him, pulling out one of the meals that Jayda had made and put in there with the heating instructions. It looked like something Mexican. This might be good.

“We’ve got a spread here,” he said. “Shame you can’t be here, but then if she’s hot…”

“I’d rather be there with the spread,” I told him instead of answering his question.

“Ah, damn. So, she looks like Baskin,” he replied with a chuckle.

No, she did not.

My text alert went off.

“Wait a minute,” I told him, then looked down at it to see Jayda’s response.

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