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I didn’t have to tell Bain anything. He was more than aware of everything that went on in the room he was in. It was something he’d always done and not even something that the military had taught him to do.
So yes, I was more than confident that Bain had heard and seen everything that had happened with Bart. And that he was already heading my way.
Always the protector.
“Three. Two…”
He opened his wallet, took his credit card and license, then tossed the entire thing to me.
I caught it as Bart all but ran away.
I smiled just as Bain made it to my side. “What the fuck just happened?”
I told him, then opened the wallet.
“Sweet. My rent is paid next month.”
Bain gave me a questioning look.
“Did you know that guy?” he asked.
“Oh, I know him,” I confirmed. “He’s been a problem since he started coming here.” I watched out the plate-glass windows as Bart sped away in his fancy truck.
Bain looked at the wallet that Bart had tossed at me.
“You think he’s gonna want that back?” he asked. “Because funny enough, I need one.”
He pulled out a pocketful of cards.
I snorted, pulled the cash out, then tossed it at him.
He caught it and grinned.
I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly.
God, it was good to have him back.
When I pulled away, it was to see Braxton glaring daggers at us, Telly with her mouth pinched tightly shut and Hilary and Holt looking on with amusement lighting their faces.
The rest of the time they were there was great.
But the highlight of my day by far?
Watching Braxton walk out with an upset stomach and the knowledge that he was about to go home and blow his toilet up for the next half an hour because he ate too much grease and carbonated beverages.
CHAPTER 3
Block his number and let lil’ ugly have him.
-Luce’s life lessons
LUCE
Two days later
I groaned as I all but collapsed against the side of my car.
Today had been long.
As in, too long.
I’d started it out with my second night of restless sleep.
All I could think about was Bain.
He was in my every waking and sleeping thought.
And he’d been the cause of my nights of no sleep.
Though, that was usually the case.
Since Bain was put into prison because of me, he’d been in my thoughts. I’d written him all kinds of letters, but always being sure not to include too much personal information. It wouldn’t do to have him know my fears and worries and be unable to do anything about them.
But this restlessness and “all I can think about is him” thing had been totally new.
I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not.
Needless to say, I wasn’t thinking on all cylinders, or I would’ve prepared myself for going out into a parking lot at night.
But, since my brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders, I got into my car and then just sat there as I thought about the day.
It’d been long. Drawn out. And tedious.
The end of my school career was coming to a close and this time next month, I’d have my first big-girl job.
My best friend and I were already working on the business plan.
When I’d met Matilda, we’d been two scared young women in a world of confusion and chaos that was also known as veterinary school.
Together, the two of us had grown, passed classes and eventually formed a tight bond that led us to now.
We would be opening up our own veterinary practice come the fall.
We were going to be starting the groundbreaking process as soon as we could find a reliable contractor. Which, in this day and age, was really hard to find. All that we’d met, so far, had been very “nice.” In a way that we knew they wanted the job. The only problem was, we could tell they wanted the job and they were a little too quick to give us the answers in a pretty, nicely wrapped package.
As in, we knew they couldn’t meet the time line we wanted, and they were trying to act like they could. But, after our research, we’d met with quite a few angry clients that said they were waiting for this or that relating to their projects and none of those things…
My thoughts instantly took a dive in a different direction when things happened fast. One moment, I was sitting in my seat, and the next, I wasn’t.
“Where is it?” Bart hissed, pressing me against the car with his hands wrapped around my throat.
I kicked hard, but it was useless.
He had me pinned so well that my feet strikes were pointless and there was no leverage whatsoever to be had.
“Where is what?” I said through a practically collapsed windpipe.
“My wallet,” he growled.
I swallowed hard past the pressure and then said, “Bain. Bain has it.”
