Page 35 of The Harborer
Shane was closest to the door, so he grasped the latch and held up his other hand to signal Amy to stay put. “Let me check.” He opened the door and peered out just as Micky killed the engine, hopped from his pickup, and slammed the driver’s side door. He had parked it diagonally behind Shane’s, blocking him in, and he stalked in a circle around it. His clothes and hair were disheveled; he looked like he was at the end of a long bender.
“Hey.” Shane lifted his chin.
Micky whipped his head toward him. A smile that was both icy and unhinged spread across his stubbled face. “I wondered whose piece of shit was taking up my driveway.” Micky sauntered toward him, a slight wobble in his gait. “What the fuck are you doing in my house, O’Brien?”
Shane shoved his hands in his front pockets. “Amy was worried about you when you didn’t come home last night. I offered to stop by and see what I could do.”Oh, and help her move out on your ass.
“I bet you did.” Micky let out a hollow, mirthless laugh and stopped two feet from Shane. The six-inch stoop where Shane now stood exaggerated the difference in their heights, giving Shane an inordinate amount of pleasure.
Micky waved a dismissive hand at him. “Well, I’m home now, so you can get the fuck out of here.” Shane crossed his arms and planted his feet as though they were part of the concrete. Mickyscoffed. “What? You’re going to keep me out of my own house now? I saidmove, asshole.”
“Need to ask you something first.” Micky crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring Shane’s stance. Shane continued. “I was cruising 550 earlier looking foryou. I saw you riding shotgun in a silver SUV. You ducked down.”
Something flashed in Micky’s eyes but quickly winked out. “What makes you think it was me?”
“Because itlookedlike you.”
“How could you tell if I supposedly ducked down?”
“This passenger wasn’t fast enough, and I got a good look.” Shane kept his gaze leveled with Micky’s, looking for a flinch, a tell, anything that would give him away.
Micky sneered. “Well, it wasn’t me. Now stop playing sheriff and get the hell off my property.”
“I can’t while your truck’s blocking mine.”
Micky swung his head in a drunken arc toward the vehicles.
Shane glanced over his shoulder at Amy, who had come up behind him. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, and he thought he detected a tremble rippling across her shoulders.
He used the calmest voice he could muster to direct a suggestion at her. “Why don’t you get your phone, your purse, your coat, and whatever else you need? But make it quick.” He was not leaving here without her, and he hoped like hell she wasn’t going to argue with him.
She gave a slight bob of her head and spun.
Meanwhile, Micky stumbled toward his truck and climbed in. Fired up the engine. Spit gravel as he launched the vehicle into reverse.
Shane brushed his hand against his pistol, reassuring himself it was there.
Too soon, Micky stood in front of him once more, a step closer this time, all spit and snarl. “You’re on private property,Deputy, and I want you to leave.”
Shane remained rooted to his spot in the open doorway. “I was invited.”
“Not by me, you weren’t, and it’s my name on the deed. She doesn’t own shit. Now get your ass off my fucking property.”
Micky lunged as if to push past Shane, and Shane sidestepped him. Micky’s momentum carried him across the threshold with enough force that he thudded on the floor, chest first. An invisible cloud that reeked of sour alcohol followed him. He wheezed a curse as he pulled himself to his knees.
Amy reappeared, coat over her shoulders, clutching a duffel in one hand and her purse in the other.
Shane fingered his keys. “Ready?”
She nodded, her dark gaze holding his. “I need to talk to him.”
“Where the hell do you thinkyou’regoing?” Micky thundered.
“Where were you?” she threw back. Gone was her alarm from mere minutes ago. Her ebony brows were two angry slashes above eyes that barely contained her rage.
“None of your fucking business.” He clambered unsteadily to his feet and staggered toward her, but she neatly darted out of his reach.
Every muscle in Shane’s body was taut, coiled, ready to spring.
