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ChapterOne
Dane
“She’s just a woman.”Benny spreads his arms so wide the buttons of his shirt strain against his gut. “Hell, she’s practically agirl. You’ll get her in no time.”
“Not interested.” I toss the flank steak into the pan. The oil pops and sizzles.
“Come on, man.” Benny eyes the steak, then drops his hands and paces in the three-foot space between the butcher block and the kitchen door. “I don’t have time to find someone else. Besides, you’re the best. We’ve been working together…what, ten years now?”
“Twelve years and three months.”
He chuckles. “Okay, but who’s counting?”
I am. Every fucking day.
I grab a potato and start peeling off the skin. In the back of my mind, I add up the years, the captures, the miles, the money, the time. I still don’t know what it all amounts to.
After I was arrested—again—at nineteen and cut a deal with the judge, bounty hunting was supposed to be a temporary gig. A way to make money while I figured out how to turn my life around.
But word spread that I was damn good at the job, bringing in bail jumpers quickly and without complications. Within months, I had a massive workload and a steady, if uneven, income.
So despite the nagging sense that I didn’t want to be hunting down fugitives, I kept at it. Then my sister got sick, and I went into adrenaline-fueled overdrive, busting my ass twenty-four seven to catch whichever bail jumper would earn me the most cash.
Twelve years and three months later, I still haven’t officially quit. I’ve worked with countless bondsmen and brought thousands of skips back to face the consequences of their crimes. Not a single one has gotten away from me.
But now? Nicole’s been gone for over a year. I’ve prowled around the seediest shitholes and hauled in lowlifes from every state and several different countries. I’ve confronted the worst of humankind.
At thirty-two, it’s too late to “turn my life around”—not that I even know how I’d do that—but I’ve had enough of the slimy underground world of bondsmen and lawbreakers.
“Damn, that steak smells good.” Benny stops in front of me, his hands on his hips. “Can I have some?”
“No.”
He glowers. I peel another potato and start slicing it.
“What will you do if you don’t take the job?” he snaps. “Just sit here eating and moping?”
“What the fuck do you care?”
“I don’t, except that I want my damn skip back,” he replies shortly. “And I wantyouto go get her for me.”
“I don’t hunt women.”
He snorts. “Yeah, you and your moral center or whatever. Women commit crimes too, Armstrong. And like I said, this skip is more of a girl than a woman. Make an exception for her.”
I slice the second potato and eye him narrowly. “The bond isn’t enough to make it worth my while.”
“I know it’s not much, but I’m on thin ice with this judge,” he whines. “And my reputation took a major blow after Turner led my guys on that wild freaking goose chase. My referrals nosedived, and my business hasn’t recovered.”
I almost laugh. “You think a little girl is going to save your reputation after a most-wanted fugitive almost outsmarted you?”
“He wouldn’t have if you’d been on the case,” Benny reminds me.
“True.”
He barks out a laugh and watches me toss the potatoes into another pan.
“You’re really going to eat all that by yourself?” he asks.
