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“I didn’t realize what he was at first. I mean, my dad was a crook but not that kind of criminal, at least I didn’t think so. Anyway, I realized what kind of man he was when I owed him some money and had trouble paying it back.”
“Your own boyfriend?” I shook my head. That guy was a fucking asshole.
“Yep. See, a few of us were getting together for a bachelorette party and I thought it’d be nice to have a little pot for the night. But Genesis said this was a grown up party and that I should bring coke. I’d done a line here and there but nothing real serious. He offered me some so I took it. It wasn’t until the next day he told me I owed him $1200. ‘Ass or cash,’ he said.”
Her gaze darkened as she relived the memory and my fingers itched to pound that fucker’s face into the cement. “Then a few days later he magically remembered how I used to help my dad.”
“Wait, what? Seriously?”
She just nodded sadly.
“What a fucking prick,” I said. The guy was an asshole, but he was smart to take advantage of such a fantastic and hidden talent.
“Yeah, but after the first heist went so well, my debt was cleared. You can imagine my relief. But then he started to pay me. Cash, zanies and vicos,” she said, casually tossing out the street name for Xanax and Vicodin.
“I had this little one-bedroom apartment with plenty of light in the living room. My craft room was my living room and I had this long table by the balcony where I had an almost unobstructed view of the Hollywood sign.”
She sighed wistfully, her green eyes someplace else, that happier time I assumed.
“I was in a happy bubble, stoned and crafting, planning two or three heists a month for a fat bundle of cash. I kept doing it, not even thinking about it at all, Dallas, not until I gave up the pills.”
“Why?” I needed to know if I had to worry about having a junkie in my house and carrying my kid.
She shrugged. “I was over it and I preferred the way I felt with pot, a little spacey but not enough that I could ignore my conscience. And I started thinking that if I was going to do this with my life, I could at least be with Dad.” A laugh erupted out of her. “Okay, so not really the short version, but there it is, the whole story.”
I reached over and fingered a few crumbs from her plate, licking my thumb before I said, “And you think that’s why he wants you back?”
She rolled her eyes, swiped her phone screen a few times and shoved it under my nose. I frowned at the room on her screen, filled with bins of yarn, tubes of glitter, fake flowers, beads and plenty of other shit that the old ladies in Rose Petal would love. “What the hell am I looking at?”
She laughed but the sound was harsh and bitter. “My prison. Genesis wanted to keep me high and planning heists for him while I did my crafts. Whether I wanted to or not.”
“And you’re not tempted, not even a little?” If she was going to change her mind in a few days, I couldn’t get involved. If I landed myself in the middle of some on and off couple, I would send her on her way right damn now.
“Hell no. I mean, I get why he might think I’d come back, but I’m not the girl too naïve and too blind to see the truth anymore. And honestly, there’s nothing quite like being on my own.”
“No, there isn’t.” The desert air made it easier to breathe than the thick, suffocating air in Rose Petal.
“So yeah, I’m not going back. But I need a plan and to make a decent one, I need time. For some reason, I thought you might help, but it’s okay if you won’t. I always land on my feet.”
Shit. I couldn’t let her go now, knowing she was pregnant with a gangbanger after her. “One more question, who does this Genesis run with?”
Rocky stood and grabbed her bag, heading for my front door again. “The Killer Aces. See ya, Lasso.”
Chapter 3
Rocky
Two days. That was how long I’d been at Lasso’s place and I wouldn’t even start with how I felt about him insisting I call him by that ridiculous nickname. But I obliged because he was nice enough to let me lay low and invade his space for a while. And I still didn’t have a good plan to start a new life someplace else, though I was waiting to hear from a guy I used to know about a new identity.
Other than staring at blank paper and crafting, I was bored out of my mind. Terrified about my uncertain future as a single parent. Even now, I sat on the shaded back porch, knitting an oversized sweater that was a commissioned order, and hoping my phone wouldn’t ring. I’d changed numbers twice since I left San Diego and this time, Genesis hadn’t been able to get it.
Or he was biding his time.
Either way, the sooner I came up with a plan for my future, the faster I’d be out of his reach and safe to worry about the rest of my life. Which for the immediate future meant dealing with another outlaw biker. I’d seen Lasso’s leather jacket and insignia, and knew I was in danger of repeating my past mistakes. There had to be a sign on my forehead or maybe it was a scent, that said I was a magnet for outlaws.
It was a good thing I wasn’t hanging around long enough to make too many mistakes.
The last mistake had nearly cost me my life after a night of grief, pills and booze, and now I had someone else to worry about, so I had to be smart. My kid needed me to be better than I was right now, better than my dad had ever been and better than my mom was before she walked out when I was three. I’d have to do more with my online craft store, make more money to take care of me and a baby and find a place to live. Hell, I had to find a state to live in, then find a doctor and buy baby clothes and beds and stuff. I needed baby books and vegetables. They were good for growing fetuses, weren’t they?
