Page 20 of Truck Stop Titan

“Not a damn thing.”

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“You putting us in danger being here?” Tito slapped two envelopes side by side on the red Formica, then waited for my response, not a lick of emotion or judgement on his face.

“Wouldn’t be here, that were the case.”

He eyed my shake, shook his head, smirked. “Any Slayer’s gonna be rolling into town looking for you?”

“No.”

“Club making a play for Whisper Springs?”

“Not in the mood for an interrogation,” I warned. “Ain’t a damn thing you could do to stop them, that were their intention.” And because my bones were too damn weary for a fight, I threw in, “But no. No play for Whisper Springs.”

“Good to hear.” With two fingers, he slid one envelope my way.

“The fuck’s this?”

Tito rested his elbows on the table, crossing his forearms. “Hasn’t gone unnoticed you’re not wearing your cut.”

“Your point?”

“Could use your skills, if you’re in the market for a job.”

“Skills?” I pounded a finger into the manila casing, thick with what I assumed was a stack of Benjamins. “You mean of the criminal variety.”

“Maybe.”

“Enough with the games, Moretti.” I leaned over the table getting right up in that scarred mug, half-cocked for a fist to face.

To his credit, he didn’t bow.

“Sit down, you’re scaring the children.” Again with that dam smirk.

I fell back on my ass, glared, waited for further explanation.

He picked up the second envelope, rapped the edge against the table. “You no longer have a criminal record. These are yours, regardless you take the job or not. Consider it a thank you, for helping me out last year.”

“How’d you pull that off?”

Tito merely shrugged those huge fucking shoulders. “I know a guy.”

Bullshit. He was the guy. That smug mug told me so.

Shocked damn near speechless, I shoved that flimsy straw into the chocolate mess and sucked hard, my mouth watering something fierce before that first sickening sweet glob of chocolate hit my tongue.

A white-haired, angelic little thing bounced up to our table, planted a kiss on Moretti’s cheek, and tossed an overstuffed backpack on the table.

The guy fuckin’ melted right before my eyes, morphing from wild monster to docile pet.

“Bunny,” he rasped, sliding over, making room for her to sit. “You remember Dane?”

“Dane?” Her brows quirked, right before her eyes widened to the size of hub caps. “Dane. Right. Hi.” She shot a hand my direction.

I gave her a quick shake. “Tuuli, right?”

She responded with a nod, then said, “You look different.”

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