Page 19 of Fearless


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“I know. I knocked it over myself. But shit, Damon?” I stood, suddenly ready to go home and crash, maybe drink a few beers and zone out to a movie.

“That means he’s in, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Walker’s involved.” I shut my locker again, thankful I didn’t forget anything this time. “Which means I might be on his radar again, too.”

“Yeah, well, he’ll see my fist again if he tries anything with you.”

“And the connections you have behind that fist.” I rubbed my jaw. I’d felt the impact of his fist on my face, but also understood the backing Bill had. Fifteen years in prison made for some shady connections. He wasn’t afraid to use them if he needed to.

Thankfully, because they’d gotten my ass out of a heap of trouble.

“So, two bads don’t make a good, do they?”

“Not in this case, kid.”

“You know I hate it when you call me kid.”

“Why do you think I do it?” He pulled open the door. “Be careful with her. You know the baggage you come with, so you know you can’t be the only one with some trouble following you around.”

“You flexed your muscles for her before?”

“Nice try,kid.” He flipped me off and lumbered away.

Should have known I’d meet a brick wall if I asked Bill anything. Didn’t matter. My baggage was bad, but Walker wouldn’t go after Sarah. No, he wanted Damon, that much was obvious. But did I really want to bring Sarah into that mess? If she’d even willingly come?

Chapter Eight

Sarah

Isetmychailatte down and clicked through the daily news on my iPad, specifically the police reports. All seemed quiet. The scanner the last few weeks or so had been pretty quiet as well. I might have picked the right place to land for once.

Minnesota was a far cry from the Texas-Mexico border, so that made a difference, evidently. Sure, there was probably trafficking going on here, too, that sick shit was everywhere, but so far I’d not detected anything this past year.

Changing my hair every few months, how I dressed, and living off the grid was working.

It’d be nice to not look over my shoulder everywhere I went. And now that I was taking self-defense classes with Hunter over at the club, for once I felt strong. Empowered.

And it felt good.

I glanced out the window of this tiny coffee shop as I took a long draw from my iced chai latte. It was so steamy hot outside I could almost see the humidity in the air. It was the first week of September so it should be breaking soon.

At least that was the theory.

I’d made it here a whole year. Had a good job. Even had a friend or two, though I think Angelina befriended me simply because Hunter was nice to me. But that was okay. That chick had survived a glimpse of what I’d been subjected to for six years, so there was a kinship in a way.

The door to the laundromat across the street opened, and Drey stomped out, checking his phone. My heart jumped at the sight. He’d kept his distance these past few weeks, but I still caught him staring at me more often than usual. And he was still a little overprotective on the floor.

My tips had dipped because of that, but I didn’t care. It actually felt pretty awesome. He was making good on his promise to wait for me, which endeared me to him more.

I packed up my iPad as he paused, typing on his phone. Even from across the street I saw the tension creasing his forehead. He wore his hair down, messy like he’d not put the styling gel in. Looked pretty good, actually, the way it dusted the tops of his ears and neck. Had a little curl to it.

I made my way to the door, my iPad in one hand and my chai in the other. He checked up the street and down, then took off up the sidewalk. I pushed through the doorway and followed from this side of the street.

He was walking fast but was pretty focused ahead of him. I’d always wondered why he didn’t have a car. When I found out where he lived, which wasn’t too far from my place, I realized he was within walking distance of everything. The convenience store he worked at and the bar. Maybe by choice? Probably couldn’t afford a car, which I understood.

I could, just chose not to have one. The more off the grid the better.

Drey turned at the next corner, so I crossed the street and followed. Where the hell was he going? This was the opposite direction from his apartment and the bar. Maybe he was heading to the store. No, that was a block west.

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