AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He climbs in his truck, cursing under his breath.
“What’s going on?” Carolina asks. “What’d you say to him, Faulk? Marvin? Hey, where are you going?”
“Marvin’s leaving town, sugar,” I tell her, slamming the truck door shut. “And I suggest you start taking lessons from the goats.”
“Huh?” She bats her eyes at me.
I gesture at the overflowing trash can and various junk sitting around it: cheap torn-up purses, discarded clothes, moldy packages of bread that could’ve went to families in need if her greedy ass hadn’t swiped so much from the food bank.
“You heard me. Be a goat. Clean this place up before you’re evicted, Carolina. There’re plenty of hardworking folks at North Earhart Oil looking for places to rent, and housing doesn’t grow on trees around here. It’s a seller’s market.”
She scowls at me and steps toward the truck as Marvin starts the engine.
I pull her away, wondering why the sour expression on her face suddenly brightens.
“Waitasec…you’re so jealous, you’re sending him away?” she asks, cringe-worthy flattery ringing in her voice. “Is that it?”
Not in this lifetime.
“Not hardly,” I reply. Then, just to make sure she doesn’t do something to harm the goats, I point to the fence. “See that shaggy black goat over there? We call him Hellboy for a reason. You so much as touch that fence and you’ll find out why. Let me tell you, having an ass full of horns ain’t pleasant.”
Her eyes widen as she stares at the fence.
For a second, she and Hellboy lock eyes.
I try not to laugh.
Stuffing Marvin’s gun into my belt, I walk down the driveway, following him as he backs the truck out. He flips me the bird as he pulls away.
I have half a notion to shoot out a tire, just for the hell of it, but it’s a peaceful neighborhood, even if it’s a little run down.
The folks in the other houses don’t deserve that crap.
Tory and Owl are standing outside of her truck, trying to process what they’ve just witnessed. A sickness hits me square in the gut.
Like it or not, I’ve just potentially dragged her in deeper than I ever wanted to.
I hope like hell I’m wrong.
It can’t be that dire, right?
Bat’s still locked up in prison a thousand miles away. No clear release date in the foreseeable future, but if he’s able to land a lawyer who can sweet-talk a judge into an early parole…
Not fucking good.
Hopefully, her knee will be healed up by then, and we’ll both be far away from Dallas, and each other, whenever Bat gets out and tries something stupid.
I walk over, resting a hand on the hood of her truck.
She looks fine—relieved, really—but I still ask, “You all right, Peach?”
“I’m fine, but what the hell was that? Did you just kick him out?” She glances at Carolina, who’s glaring our way from her porch. “She must be a close friend of yours to listen.”
“Not even close.” I shake my head. “If I ever get that desperate, put a man out of his misery.”
I want to choke when I look back at Carolina, then Tory.
There’s no comparison.
Not with how cute she looks today, dolled up in her jeans, boots, and a red shirt with Dean’s Rent-A-Goat printed on it in big black letters. Peach and the caked-up, worn-out-looking Carolina don’t even inhabit the same universe.
“Sorry, Quinn. I just…I wasn’t sure. Didn’t mean to imply—”
“You know me better than that, woman. She’s a frigging barfly Grady barely tolerates at the Purple Bobcat because she pays in cash. Nothin’ more. And her hookup was a no-good drifter who’d better think twice about flashing a gun at one of my friends ever again.”
Her cheeks flush slightly. “He didn’t aim it at me or anything.”
“He made sure you saw it,” I say. “Not something he has any business doing.”
“You’re right.” She sighs. “God, I can’t believe it. Up until now, it was a pretty smooth day.”
I shake my head at her. “You were supposed to call me days ago when you went to pick up the goats at Ridge’s place.”
“I know, but with the bridge, I didn’t need a hand. Owl had them loaded up in no time as soon as the gate was open.”
“And what if Hellboy there knocked you off that bridge? Your knee could’ve been messed up permanently.”
She huffs out a breath, tapping her knee. “This didn’t have anything to do with the bridge.”
“No, it didn’t,” I agree. “How long have you been here? It’s evening, and I still see a lot of overgrowth, so I’m thinking not long.”
Looking at the fence, she nods.
“I’d just locked the gate when she came storming out of the house. We got into a spat and he let me know pretty fast he had a gun in his waistband when you called.” She frowns and looks at me. “How is it you always show up at just the right moment?”
