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I saw the shudder move through him, and I couldn’t stop the grin from kicking up my mouth.

He cared.

“Do you want to go eat?” I asked.

He thought about it. “Yeah. Do you want to ride with me? I can bring you back in the morning. The dealership is right there.”

He pointed down the road where the dealership’s lights were illuminating the area about a half mile from where we were standing. The dealership he was referring to was actually a rather large one for the area. It had all brands of trucks from Ford to Dodge to Chevrolet. It was definitely a one-stop shop, and I loved that they’d combined all of them so you didn’t have to drive everywhere.

“That sounds perfect,” I admitted. “I’m tired of driving anyway…though, now I feel bad because I should maybe offer to drive you due to your blood loss.”

He snorted. “The day that a little blood loss keeps me from driving is the day I should hang up my hat.”

I snickered and walked out around to my side of the truck, but before I could reach for the door handle, Bayou was there, holding it open for me. “After you,” came his rumbled reply.

I bit my lip and got in, batting my eyes at him as I did.

He winked and slammed my door closed before opening the rear door and getting Isa situated. Once we were both settled in, he walked around to the front driver’s side and got in, immediately starting it up and rolling down every window there was.

He even rolled open the moonroof.

“I swear it feels like I can’t breathe when I close the doors,” he muttered, tugging on his already loosened collar.

I reached for the hand that was doing the tugging and pulled it into my lap.

“Onward, driver,” I told him. “If we hurry, I might still be able to eat the food I ordered hot…which reminds me. Hoax tells me you don’t like Mexican food…what the hell? That’s so weird.”

“Out of all the things that you could think was weird about me, the fact that I don’t like chips and hot sauce, as well as rice and beans and tortillas, makes you think I’m weird?”

I nodded once. “Yes.”

He laughed halfway to the restaurant.Chapter 15My favorite time of year is when the bugs start to die.

-Bayou to Phoebe

Bayou

We arrived at my house two hours later. Isa was asleep in the back seat, so I looked over at Fancy and said, “Come inside with me. Once I get her to bed, I’ll walk you to your place.”

She nodded once, taking a look behind her at the sleeping girl.

Right around the same time as the doors opened, another call from my cell phone came through, making my pocket buzz, and a harsh ringing sound fill the air.

“Her again?” she asked.

I was sure it was.

Throughout dinner, Ilsa had called no less than ten times. If my lawyer hadn’t suggested letting her call and fill my voicemail up with all the nasty messages, I’d have blocked her ass hours ago.

As it was, I already had a nearly full inbox of both text messages and voicemails, all of which got progressively more and more snotty.

“Yes,” I answered. “I wish I could turn the phone off. I can’t, though. I have to be available for the volunteer fire department texts that come through our app, as well as any problems that might arise at the prison.”

She held her hand out for my phone. “I think there’s a way to only silence her calls. If not, we can block her.”

“The lawyer said to allow her to call so he could see the progression,” I explained. “He wanted her to dig her own grave, so to speak.”

“Well, you still can with what she’s done so far. If I can’t silence it, I’m sure,” she opened up my phone and started to search, “that thirty-two calls in the last hour and a half alone will suffice. Not to mention the text messages she’s sending between those calls. The ones that are getting progressively worse the more she sends, and the more you ignore.” She raised her head up. “Do you think we have to worry about Isla finding your place?”

I shrugged. “She doesn’t know my address, no. But it wouldn’t surprise me if she found me anyway. I’m listed in the phone book, not to mention she found me before when I didn’t have a listed address. The girl has connections.”

Phoebe grimaced. “I hate her.”

I snorted and gestured for Fancy to go inside. “Will you take my keys and open it up? The code for the alarm is seven-one-seven-six.”

Her eyes went wide at me. “You trust me with your alarm code?”

I grinned. “I trust you with my alarm code, as well as my kid and my heart…I trust you to take care of them all.”

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