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“Oh, yeah? What could we be then?”
Forever.
His lips stole across hers as he whispered, “Everything.”
He couldn’t have said anything more perfect, in Violet’s opinion. Kissing him back, she ignored the door being flung open and the disgusted sounds from her sister and brother.
“Ugh, we’re never going to get to eat now.”
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Dean picked Best and Kline up from Best’s place. Dean had left Dilbert with Casey and was relieved that Violet had seemed okay with the dog. She had asked him where he was going, and he’d merely told her he needed to take care of something. The less she knew about what he was up to, the better.
He’d sent Best and Kline a text that he needed their help with something, and without asking any questions, they’d said okay.
Now it was time to give them an out.
Kline climbed into the backseat of the truck, and Best grabbed shotgun.
“What’s up?” Best asked.
Dean hadn’t told any of his friends about last night, wanting to keep Violet’s personal business private, but after reading Quinton’s text messages, Dean knew that there was only one way to deal with the son of a bitch.
“Last night, Violet’s little sister’s ex-boyfriend attacked her and Violet,” Dean began. “He was arrested, but he’s out on bail and won’t leave Daisy alone. I want to make sure he gets the message.”
“Dude, we can’t touch him. If we do, he’ll rat us out, and it will not only screw us, but the program,” Best said.
“I’m not going to touch him. We’re just going to have a chat.”
Dean caught Kline’s hard expression from the backseat as he nodded. “I’m in.”
Best groaned and ran his hand over his shaved blond head. “Yeah, I’m in, too, but if we get fucked, I’m gonna be pissed.”
It was barely nine as Dean rolled up in front of Quinton’s house. He’d asked Daisy for Quinton’s address when they’d been cleaning up the dishes, and she had given it to him freely. From the look on her face as she’d written it down, he had a feeling whatever love she’d had for Quinton had been stomped into the ground last night.
Inside the house, the shades were drawn, but there were several shadows passing in front of the lit windows. Dean rolled down his car window, listening to music blaring from inside.
“Sounds like a party,” Best said.
“Does it make me old that my first reaction is to say it’s a Tuesday?” asked Kline, the youngest of them all at twenty-six.
Dean climbed out of the truck without answering. Best muttered, “Shit,” before his passenger door slammed, and Dean heard the heavy fall of their footsteps behind him.
“So, what’s the plan?” Kline asked.
“We’re going to walk in, and as soon as I’m sure he understands where I’m at, we’ll leave.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” Best asked.
“It will work.” It had to work, because he wasn’t going to let this asshole worry Violet or Daisy for another day. They deserved to be safe and happy.
And he was going to make sure that happened.
He turned the knob on the front door and walked right in. A few people looked up curiously, but the majority of them were too caught up in whatever they were smoking or drinking to give a fuck who they were. Dean singled out a skinny tweaker standing at the edge of the room and stalked toward him.
“You know where Quinton is?” Dean asked.
The tweaker’s eyes widened at the three of them, and he looked like he was about to piss himself. “He’s in the back bedroom.”
“Alone?” Dean asked.
