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CHAPTER SEVEN
*Lace*
Knowing Jess is safe and Kio is making sure she stays that way, I let out what seems like the first full exhale of the day. My mission is far from over, though; I still cannot rest with things as up in the air as they are.
My focus moves from the phone screen to my baby sister. Gazing down at her, I make us both a whispered promise: “We will get through this. Not sure how, but we will.”
I contemplate that for a minute. Or five. Then a fuzzy warmth bubbles inside me as I come to a realization. “You know what, Reece?” I whisper. “This is it. We need to leave. All this time, the Universe must have been organizing this moment to kick me into gear. We gotta break the vicious cycle, baby girl. Bust loose from these chains. Together.”
A life on the road, living out of my car, may not be an ideal way to raise a little girl, but it has gotta be better than how she is living now.
I take in another big recovery breath and temporarily let out all my problems with the exhale. A tiny smile pulled from the depths of my soul sneaks onto my face as I swipe at my phone screen to text an old friend for a little help with this new plan.
:Me: Hey, hun. You still got one of those portable crib things… and a car seat?
He answers right away, probably either texting Remi or glued to his phone awaiting details from Trenton on the insanity that took place at The Crowbar and Grill tonight — well, last night technically, seeing as midnight has come and gone.
:Crow: Yeah. Not sure what sort of condition they’re in, though. One of the saloon girls in need?
:Me: Yep. Can you bring it over right now?
:Crow: Give me about 15
:Me: Boy, I know all your secrets. You only ever last five, max. And that’s me being generous.
:Crow: Right. 5 to wrap up what I’m currently doing, 10 to go through all my fucking storage for your needy ass.
:Me: Glad to hear you’re wrapping it up, Crow. Way to play it safe.
Crow cuts the communication, and pretty much fifteen minutes later on the dot, I swear the loud rumble of his souped-up car can be heard coming from a damn mile away. I might have window shades that keep people from seeing inside, but this old wagon is paper thin when it comes to sound getting in.
After another thirty seconds or so, I slip out of the car and rest my hip against the side, feet crossed casually at the ankles. A few heartbeats later, his blacked-out Supra cruises around the shopping center corner where all the Groove delivery drivers park, and he pulls up beside me.
As he steps out, Crow nearly blends in with the night, all black and broody from his inky hair and dark facial expression down to his black distressed jeans and clunky work boots. He walks to the passenger side and takes out the car seat. By the time he returns, my arms are already outstretched, fingers opening and closing in a grabby motion.
“Thanks.” I grab the car seat, open my passenger door, place it inside, then turn back around and flash him a beaming grin.
“Who is it for?” he asks, opening his trunk to haul out the portable crib next.
Knowing that when lying using as much of the truth as possible usually gets you out of trouble the fastest, I surrender to admitting that the items are for Reece.
“Reece? Thought you said one of the saloon girls needs it.”
I prop up the folded contraption against my bumper and place my hands on my hips. “Last I checked, I am a saloon girl. Or do I not count?”
Dragging his teeth against the labret piercing at the center of his bottom lip, Crow levels me with one of his iconic, pensive glares. I respond by leveling him with one of my iconic, playful winks.
One thing he has always disliked about me is his inability to read my emotions. No one can. Usually. I am a mistress of deception, after all. Hell, I even get paid for that fun little talent.
Earlier with Zane, my deep-rooted emotions got the better of me, and I slipped. That, or the Chaplain is a lot more intuitive than anyone gives him credit for.
Crow breaks the staredown first and turns around, probably out of boredom, but also because he knows I have my shit handled. Historically. He plops into his low driver seat but has one more thing to say before bringing his foot in and closing the door: “Last time you looked like shit like you do right now, you had just finished being the flag girl in a mud bog.”
Shame on me for thinking he was going to oh, I dunno, congratulate me on making it to the second round of the Miss Gulf Coast pageant or something. I roll my eyes. “Last time you said anything nice about anyone was when you were gushing over Remi in my ear yesterday. Even then, it was merely a passing on of information. All business. As usual.”
Crow flips me off.
I give him a toothy smile, knowing the diss was actually his way of checking in with me. Nothing a witty volley between old friends can’t deter.
