AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s none of your business, sweetheart,” Elsa retorts, nodding to the glass of wine on the bar. “You’re in my seat.”
“And this is my boyfriend,” Allison barks back.
I balk, surprised. “Am I?” I say automatically, and Elsa laughs. Allison appears outraged. Jesus Christ, it’s designer purses at dawn. This is comical. Fuck me, does Allison think Elsa here is responsible for the endless claw marks on my back and arms? Because, naturally, the question was asked. And I ignored it. “I’m no one’s boyfriend.” I stand. “And I have shit to do.” I walk away, pulling my cell out, dialing Danny.
“What the fuck are you playing at bringing lawyers into the house?” he barks.
I roll my eyes. I could never explain. “You’ll never guess who just walked into the club.”
Muffled sounds come down the line, probably Danny removing himself from his wife’s vicinity. “I’m assuming they’re not Russian or Mexican or I’d be hearing gunfire,” he whispers.
“Not even men.”
“If you say Amber?—”
“She’s dead.”
“There’s no body, Brad.”
I laugh with no humor at all. “It’s not Amber.” Shit, that’s a bitch of a situation. No one wants proof that Amber is actually dead because proof will also provide evidence that Rose did it.
“Spit it out,” Danny presses, impatient. “Rose is at the table wondering who I’m talking to and why.”
“Elsa Dove.”
“Who?”
“Pink Flamingo.”
“Ohhhh,” he breathes. “And what the fuck does she want?”
“What does anyone who comes to us want?” I ask. “Let me give you a clue. The answer begins with pro and ends with tection.”
“You’re a fucking dick sometimes.”
For once, I agree with him. “She said she has information.”
“I’m on my way.”
16
DANNY
* * *
Fuck my life, we’ve not long arrived. I look through the window into the restaurant and see Rose at the table. She’s looking this way, watching me as I hang up to Brad. Worried. I can’t say I was looking forward to telling her the man who raped her and haunted her for years is still alive. That I didn’t kill him. That I lied to her. But it needs to be done.
Things are about to change around here again, and she needs to understand why. I dial Brad back, taking the handle of the door and pulling it open. “Can it wait an hour?”
“What? No, it can’t wait. Allison’s turned up too. I’m outnumbered.”
Dick. What was he thinking inviting a woman back to the house? And not just a woman, but a fucking lawyer. “Brad,” I say quietly, stopping by the door. Rose sits up in her chair, her wine halfway to her lips, her expression apprehensive. Hopeful. It fucking kills me. I give her a small, reassuring smile. She returns it. “I’m looking at my wife’s face across the restaurant right now wondering how the fuck I tell her I didn’t kill Sandy.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.” I blow out my cheeks, once again amused by the fact that there is nothing in this world that terrifies me more than my wife. Will she get up and walk out? Leave me? Throw a drink in my face? Yell at me, hit me? All will be actions resulting from fear. I vowed she would never be scared again.
“Take your time,” Brad says, soft and understanding. “And a heads-up.”
