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“Whatcha’ want?” Despite her frantic appearance, her words are slow and slurred.
“No, Arlene, the question is… What do you want?”
“Huh?”
Otis plows his way to the door, the entire trailer shaking with the pounding of his heavy, stumbling stride. “Who is that?”
“I think it’s Ridge Kincaide,” Arlene says, her head whipping from me to her husband and back again. “That’s you, right? Lacy’s baby daddy?”
I nod once, keeping my face a blank mask.
“That’s him,” Otis says, peering at me from over his wife’s head.
“Otis, Arlene.” Their names are like barbed wire in my mouth, but I remain as pleasant as can fucking be. For now. “I’d like to offer you a deal.”
“Deal?” Otis pushes Arlene aside, and puffing out his chest, looks me in the eye with his hollow, dead stare.
Is there any humanity left in this man? Or are these two driven by nothing more than the hungry need for their next fix?
With their wild looks and uneven temperaments, combined with whatever drugs they’ve got running through their systems, my size advantage makes no difference. These two are capable of anything and scary as hell. Utterly terrifying when I think of what they might be willing to do to Lacy and our child.
I have to admit, Mama was right—these people need to be handled. Now.
“What kind of deal?” His nostrils flare like a shark scenting baited water.
“The kind you say yes to, no questions asked.”
Arlene’s bony fingers wrap around Otis’s arm as she attempts to gawk at me from behind him. “That don’t sound like much of a deal.”
“Shut up, woman.” He attempts to shake her off, his elbow meeting her ribcage in the process. “The men are talking.”
The air whooshes out of her lungs, but it doesn’t seem to slow her. A high-pitched whine starts in the back of her throat and quickly turns to an ear-splitting screech. It’s an unintelligible sound. And disturbing as fuck.
She launches herself at Otis, her gnarled hands pummeling his arm and shoulder repeatedly.
And he does nothing but continue to stare at me.
God, how did Lacy survive these people? Her brother, Travis, too? She’s a fucking superhero, and I’m going to make sure she knows it.
The image of her as I last saw her—windswept hair, kiss-swollen lips, and glowing face—invades my mind, solidifying my shaky conviction. The burning in the pit of my stomach is no longer caused by uncertainty, but righteousness.
This is the right thing to do. For her. For them.
It’s the only thing I can do. And I must dosomething. If not, what kind of father would I be? The kind who forces his family to fend for themselves… Sink or swim… Prove their mettle… Just try and beat me at my own fucking game?
Hell, no. I refuse to be that man. I refuse to be like Pa.
“Listen,” I tell them both, interrupting the absolute chaos I’ve inadvertently started. “I’m only going to say this once, and it’s not up for negotiation.”
Quiet descends upon the scene, both now watching me with those horrid, glazed expressions. But at least they’re paying fucking attention. I can only hope my threat reaches whatever’s left of their drug-fueled brains.
“Lacy is staying here in Prospect. She’s keeping the baby, here in Prospect. Neither of them—not Lacy or the baby—will leave this town. They’re with me, and that’s how it’s going to remain.”
Arlene’s head bobs along with my words, and my confidence soars.
“And you will stay away from them both. Forever.”
“But that’s our daughter… Our grandbaby,” Arlene says, her voice now small and weak.
