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“No. I want you to stop getting into this shit in the first place!” I forced myself not to shout, looking around at the almost empty diner. The waitress behind the counter looked up briefly, then went back to refilling the coffee. I lowered my voice. “This is bad, Will. It’s bad.”
“You worry too much, hon,” he reassured me. “Always have. You’ve gotta trust in Fate. I keep telling you that. The more you try to control somethin’, the worse it gets. Things will play out as intended. So go play. You can do this. Never been a thing you couldn’t do when you set your mind to it.”
Every damn time.“I need to go. Stay out of trouble.”
Will chuckled at that, breaking out into a cough. “Trouble is my middle name.”
“It sure is. But listen, I doubt I’ll be able to call for a while. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Never do.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course not. Never. You’re a saint. Stay safe.”
“I will do, hon. You, too. You know the rules.”
“Never leave a trail, trust no one, and always follow the bucks.”
“See? I taught you well. Love you, Savvy.”
“Love you, too.”
The call ended.
Fuck.He always had a way of tugging at my heartstrings.
Conflicted, I couldn’t help but feel love for him. He was my only family. The one who’d taken me in after my parents died a week before my fourteenth birthday. If not for him, I would have gone into care. And even though he wasn’t the greatest of role models, lived in a trailer, and drank more than he worked, he’d done his best by a teenage girl he didn’t know how to raise. He’d also taught me how to handle a weapon, fire a gun, and hold my own.
After our first few years together, I’d help him with his bounty hunting jobs—just the paperwork and puzzle-solving after school. Once I turned eighteen, he’d taken me out on jobs with him, and I caught on quickly, learning the trade.
Graduation came and went, and I knew enough to take advantage of the Idaho State Laws that allowed me to bounty hunt without a license. But I’d also wanted to establish myself from the rookies; those who were eager to make a quick buck from overzealous bail jumpers.
Sixty hours of mandatory training later, I’d taken on the lower-key jobs that crossed my uncle’s desk, and negotiated a higher cut of his fee.
Will didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, often using me when he needed a female lure. So I learned how to dress and act seductively to attract those hard-to-catch marks. I took martial arts classes, giving me the strength and confidence to take down those bigger than me. I got a license to carry and shoved as much of my earnings as I could into a secret account far away from Will.
The rest of my earnings I’d used to move out of the trailer and rent an apartment close by, both of us falling into a rhythm. But as time went on, Will continued to decline, losing himself in the bottle as old age approached and his bounty hunting work grew harder for him to manage.And now he’s gone and got into fifty thousand dollars worth of debt with one of the most dangerous men in Idaho.
Throwing the cell I’d recently purchased back into my bag, I sipped the strong coffee, cringing at the taste. I’d taken it black, needing the caffeine kick rather than the cream and sugar I preferred.
The deal was for me to hunt down a mark called Warren Donovan with a rough description, an old sketch, and sweet fuck all else. So I dug deep into records and internet searches. I’d signed up to enough stuff over the years that was legit and allowed me to dig deeper, and I had links to the odd hacker who did me a favor now and again.
Within an hour of leaving Gideon’s office, I’d got a general direction of Colorado, dumped my meager belongings into a bag as Gideon’s heavies stayed close while I packed, and headed for my truck, intending to shake them first before I stayed on a specific route.
That worked out in my favor, at least.
I’d lost them. And I’d also eliminated the risk of them swiping the bounty from under my feet and putting a bullet in my head. I was good enough to follow trails and hide mine. They didn’t have a clue who they were dealing with and it showed.
Hitting the open road had provided a semblance of relief after that. I threw myself into the job and tugged hard on the network I’d developed over the years. I spent days on diner food and takeout coffee, digging, hitting brick walls, and trusting my gut. My instincts rallied, urging me on, throwing cash around to get further information, reading between the lines, and listening to what peopledidn’ttell me. And that’s what led me to my next destination.
Did I trust the fable about men who could turn into wolves beneath the moonlight? Ones who’d united their packs under an alliance and where some of them lived in the creek? Heck no. But something about the story had intrigued me, so I’d followed its footsteps.
That led me to a man called Donovan Darman. Someone who had ties to several investments in the area. Considering my bounty’s name was Warren Donovan, it was a link I couldn’t ignore. So I delved further and discovered his investments had ties to the elusive Moonlight Creek.
I was only about an hour from the location now. It was early. But not too early where it would create suspicion driving into a town that liked to keep its location a secret. I’d park up close by, change the plates on my pickup truck, remove the seal, and drain the oil enough to back up my claim I had car trouble. I’d shoved my fake papers and ID into my bag before I’d left. My failsafe. Will had instilled his paranoia in me for as long as I could remember. But I was almost there. Almost at the next step. An unpredictable step. And I could finally let hope seep in.
Knocking back the dregs of my coffee, I threw a few notes onto the table.
Money.
