Page 82 of Never Trust the Living (Battle Crows MC 7)

I snorted. “I’m not updating the sheriff on any new information. I’m tired of depending on the law to fix things when we both know that they won’t.”

Wake eyed me sharply and looked me in the eye for quite a while before saying, “I had a buddy look into you.”

My brows rose in question. “Yeah?”

“You’re married to the woman whose own brother tortured you,” he said. “Seems kind of backward if you ask me.”

I shrugged. “It might very well be. But I love the hell out of her all the same.”

Even if at first, that wasn’t the case.

“I see that,” he murmured. “And I’d take you up on dinner but Tex just jumped into the water. It’ll take him hours to dry off.”

I looked over my shoulder and sure enough, Tex was swimming around in the bay as happy as could be.

“Dogs and sand sound like a horrible combination,” I admitted.

“You have no idea.”

CHAPTER 21

I’m going to hell on a full ride.

-Dory to Bram

DORY

“This is quite irregular.” Dutch shook her head. “But he’s more comfortable with women that don’t have red hair. Apparently, his mother was a ginger, and there’s a lot of past trauma. And I know that you usually do children, but I was asked to evaluate him by a friend. Do you mind?”

“A friend being the district attorney I heard you were making a dinner date with?” I teased.

Dutch rolled her eyes. “Yes. And he’s only a friend. I swear to God.”

I smirked. “I’m sure. How about you tell him to come in here. I have no problem helping in any way I can. I may specialize in children, but I still have the degree that says I can handle adults.”

Dutch snorted. “Children and adults are completely different breeds. I’ll send him in. Thank you so much for this.”

With that, she started out of the room, coming back moments later with a man that was just a slight bit older than myself.

I didn’t stand up, mostly because I’d taken my shoes off and still hadn’t managed to get them back on yet.

The man, who was around five feet eight, and had sandy-colored brown hair, stared at me with barely concealed hostility.

He must really have trouble with women if he couldn’t even look at me without his hate showing in his eyes.

Dutch had given me a rundown when she was telling me about him during our earlier conversation.

He was a troubled youth who’d turned into a troubled adult. And the DA wanted to know whether he should bother prosecuting him at all, or if he should be evaluated for a stay in a mental facility.

I finally got my heels on my feet, which were becoming more and more uncomfortable the more pregnant I became and stood.

“Mr. Rogers.” I smiled as I gestured toward the seat on the other side of my desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Terry Rogers had been a repeat offender for multiple things. But his multiple offenses were brand new to the state of Florida. Funny enough, he’d resided in Texas where most of his escapades had taken place before deciding to grace Florida with his presence.

Terry Rogers sat, but the anger and hate didn’t leave his face as Dutch closed the door and left us alone.

“I hear that you were mandated by the court for this evaluation,” I said softly.

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