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“You’re probably used to this, aren’t you?” I asked the man at my side.
Davis’s eyes rolled as he looked over at me. “Yeah, because I’m an ex-con, I’m used to being in the back of a police car.” He scoffed. “I turned myself in, woman. I certainly didn’t get into the back of a police car in handcuffs.”
He raised his hands.
We didn’t actually have cuffs on. We had fake banded cuffs on. The kind that were actually zip ties.
They were also so loose we could slip our hands in and out of the loops.
We weren’t actual prisoners, dammit.
“That’s not what I meant,” I lied. “I meant being here with these people.”
He snorted. “Sure you did, Fancy Pants.”
“Shut up,” I grumbled. “I really hate when you call me that name.”
He shrugged, uncaring that it bothered me.
That name would stick forever.
I’d probably die, and they’d put it on my gravestone because everyone but me thought it was cute.
Fucker.
“The next time you call me that name, you better be ready to restrain me, because I’ll punch you right in the throat,” I threatened.
His mouth kicked up into a small smile.
“Okay, Fan…” he started, but my cuffed fists punched him square in the bicep.
It hurt both of my fists more than it probably hurt him.
He took his hands out of his cuffs, then rubbed them lightly with a grin.
Then sobered.
Like completely.
He didn’t even look like he’d been drinking half the night.
“Let me tell you something, Greer Ortiz,” he said in an almost growl. “You are anything but fuckin’ normal. And I don’t fuckin’ like it.”
Before I could say anything in reply, he was let out and the door shut behind him.
He walked normally up to the door, and I wondered if it was my intoxicated brain that made me look at his ass as he walked up the sidewalk to his home.
“Last but not least,” the man taking me home said.
At some point in the night, I’d learned that the man was someone’s brother. A woman that was married into the Gator Bait MC.
For the life of me, I couldn’t remember her name.
“Thanks,” I said to him. “I’m just gonna rest my eyes for a minute.”
Then I went straight to sleep.
CHAPTER 4
Some things are better left alone. Like me, for instance.
-Coffee Cup
DAVIS
Okay, so having Greer there wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I thought it would be.
But it also helped that Sara was there, Kobe was there, Finn was there, and Folsom was there.
I’d met Kobe in prison. Kobe had done…something. We didn’t really know what he did to wind up there with us. He hadn’t asked or volunteered the details, and I hadn’t pushed him to force him to tell us.
Honestly, there were times in the day I wasn’t even sure if he was on my side.
But he was definitely there when we needed him most, and that was what counted.
As I walked up the length of my drive, I couldn’t help but look back at the man that was driving Greer home.
An unwanted thought washed through my mind, one that clearly was intrusive, and I forced myself to think of something else. Anything else. Only, it never happened.
Therefore, when I saw Silvy, the officer who was taking her home, pull over and call someone, I thought I’d better go investigate what was going on.
When I tapped on the car door, it was to find him looking down at his computer.
“What’s up?” I asked him.
I was mostly sober.
It would take more than twelve beers to get me down, and despite two shots of alcohol, I’d started to sober up within an hour of not drinking anymore.
In fact, other than about twenty minutes there when I was feeling really buzzed, I could remember every single second of the night.
Every single lingering look at Greer.
The alcohol only loosened my almost near stranglehold on my decision to not look at Greer with anything but total impartiality.
“She fell asleep,” he answered, jerking his head toward Greer.
Sure enough, in the two minutes I’d been out of the car, her eyes had closed and she’d fallen asleep.
“Greer,” I said, calling her name.
She didn’t even stir.
“Your friend Sara told me she wasn’t belligerent when she was drunk. She told me that she wasn’t fun, either. She said that she acted like she was narcoleptic and went to sleep between one second and the next. I didn’t really believe her.” He paused. “She also said she was impossible to wake up, and I should drop her off first.”
I laughed.
“That probably should’ve happened then,” I observed.
He shrugged. “My wife, Karen, is at home and she sent me a text right before we left, and let’s just say that I kind of forgot.”
I could imagine.
His wife, who was a sheriff’s deputy like him, was hot as hell.
“Pop the back open,” I said. “I’ll take her into her house.”
