Page 127 of Lost Trust

“Not until you calm the hell down.”

I carry her toward my truck while she thrashes the whole damn way.

“You are such a dick!”

“Probably.”

“I hate you!”

“Yeah, well, you hate me from the passenger seat all the way back to the ranch.”

I reach my truck and set her on her feet, keeping myself between her and the open parking lot.

She glares up at me, breathing hard.

“You’re not going anywhere alone, this pissed off,” I tell her. “I’m taking your ass home.”

“I don’t want to get in the truck with you,” she hisses.

“Too damn bad.”

She tries to slip around me, but I catch her wrist before she takes two steps.

“Rina, dammit.”

“Let go.”

“Just stop.”

She yanks her hand free.

I pull my phone from my back pocket and call Waylon.

He answers on the first ring. “Yeah?”

“Close my tab.”

A beat.

“What happened?”

“Fill you in later. And give Micah and Jovie a ride home.”

“You got it.”

“I’ll catch up with you tomorrow for my card.”

“No problem.”

I hang up.

Marina is glaring at me like she’d happily set my truck on fire with me in it.

I open the passenger door. “Get in.”

“No.”

I drag a hand down my face. “Marina, please.”