Home > Better When He's Bad (Welcome to the Point #1)(22)

Better When He's Bad (Welcome to the Point #1)(22)
Author: Jay Crownover

Her soft breath feathered against my neck and I groaned out loud and resigned myself to a long, sleepless night.

“I WAS JUST GOING to wait until I saw you at work to ask, but the situation is more serious than I thought.”

I groaned and threw an arm over my eyes as all my stiff muscles tried to straighten out. I was by myself on the couch and Dovie was obviously on the phone. Morning light was smacking me right in the face and I had a crick in my neck from holding Dovie close to my chest all night.

“Yeah, everything is gone. No clothes, no books, no anything. I’m not sure how long I’ll have to stay with you, but my place just isn’t safe.”

I heard her mutter something else and say a quiet “thank you,” then her footsteps as she came back into the living room. She perched on the arm of the couch and looked down at me. I lifted my arm to meet her leafy gaze. She was gnawing on her lower lip and messing with her hair, so I knew she was uncomfortable.

“My friend Brysen lives about six blocks from here. I’m going to go stay with her. No one knows that I talk to her since we’re really only coworkers, so it should be fine, safe.”

I don’t know why she thought I would argue with her, so I just put my arm back over my eyes.

“I’ll drop you off.”

She cleared her throat and I sighed because clearly she wasn’t going to let me go back to sleep. Something had gotten under her skin at some point between using me as a pillow and waking up.

“I still really want to help find Race, to make sure he’s okay. After last night and what you told me, I’m not sure how honest your motivation to help him really is.”

It was early, I was sore and cranky, and I had zero interest in trying to convince this uptight chick I wasn’t out to cause Race any more trouble. I swung my feet to the floor, found my T-shirt, and pulled it on over my head. My teeth felt gross and I needed an Advil for my neck in the worst way. I cut her an impatient look as I tugged my boots on impatiently.

“Do you need some cash?”

She blinked at me like an owl. “Excuse me?”

I swore and shoved up to my feet. I was hungry. I needed to ditch her and find some food. She was messing with my game and my head. I didn’t have time for any of that nonsense.

“Cash, money, dollars, currency . . . do you need some money to get some clothes and girly shit until you can stop laying low?”

She tilted her head at me like I was speaking a foreign language, so I swore under my breath and pulled a couple hundreds out of my wallet and shoved them into her hand.

“Let’s go. I’m starving and I’ve had enough of this house.” I headed for the front door, not bothering to see if she was following me or not. She was acting scared, and it irritated me. I hadn’t done anything scandalous or forward toward her and she was acting like I had followed through on my threat from the night before.

I heard her scrambling behind me, and before I could round the car, she stopped me with a hand on my elbow. She tried to shove the money back at me but I just shook her off and went to the driver’s door.

“I can’t take this from you. We aren’t friends. I don’t even think we’re on the same team anymore, and I don’t want anything to do with your criminal enterprise.”

I gritted my teeth and lifted an eyebrow. She was being a bitch this morning. I figured waking up on top of me might not have been something that thrilled her, but I would be damned if I was going to be a target for her ire.

“Get in the car. The money is clean.” Well, clean in terms of that I earned it selling an old Super Bee I had fixed up and turned into a straight street rod. Not clean in terms of I won the Bee in an illegal race before I was even old enough to vote. “I don’t have the patience to deal with you this morning, Copper-Top, so your choice. Get in and let me drop you off, or walk. I don’t give two f**ks either way.”

She was considering it. I could see it, but I started the car and she climbed in. Her hair was a tangled mess. I knew it was softer than anything I had ever felt in life and it was real easy to get your hands all twisted up in those curls, but I didn’t want to think about that. Her lips were compressed in a tight line and she had her arms crossed under what I was beginning to suspect were some seriously awesome br**sts, if her legs were any indication as to what the rest of her looked like. She resembled a little kid pouting. I think it peeved her I wasn’t going to delve into the complicated girl reasoning that made her need to get away from me. It was what it was, and all it meant for me was that I could move about more freely while trying to find Race.

She gave me stilted instructions to a really nice house that was a little farther up into the hills than my mom’s was. No one would really think to look for her there. I idled at the end of the driveway and waited for her to climb out. It wasn’t like I owed her a heartfelt good-bye or anything. She watched me for a second and took the money I had given her and put it on the dash. Without another word, she slipped out of the car and headed up the driveway to the big house. I blew out a breath that I felt like I had been holding for an hour and peeled out, making sure I left rubber and smoke in my wake.

I don’t know what the deal with Race’s sister was, or if it was the fact that she was tied to the only person in my life I genuinely cared about, but I couldn’t afford to let her be twisting me all up. My life wasn’t set up for feel-good crap like that.

I spent the rest of the day running around, touching base with people I missed, people who owed me cash, anyone and everyone I thought could put me in touch with Race. I went and saw my mom at the hovel she lived in. It was just a rented room in a house filled with other addicts and people that had simply given up. She could be in the house I bought for her but couldn’t put the bottle down long enough to make that happen. It burned like acid in my guts and of course put me in a nasty and harsh mood.

I made it a point to kick it with Roxie and tell her I would be back later that night. What I didn’t do one single time was think of Dovie or what could have happened to send her running like I had personally done her wrong. I wasn’t a good guy, but I hadn’t done anything bad to her and I didn’t like her treating me like the enemy, even if that was what she ultimately had determined that I was.

I was frustrated and short with everyone I ran across the rest of the week. It was starting to grate on my last nerve that no one—and I mean no one—had any information on Race. I had heard from three other people that he had been asking around about some rich guy when he came back, but no one had a name or anything helpful to use, and everywhere I turned I ran into either a wall or Benny. I was about done with his sense of smug satisfaction that I wasn’t getting any further than he had with finding my buddy. When he asked how Dovie liked the remodel of her place, it literally took every ounce of self-control I had not to break all his teeth in. But if nothing else, prison had taught me how to be patient, how to bide my time, and how sweet retribution was when it was delivered unexpectedly. I just ignored him and made sure he could see the storm brewing in my eyes every time I walked away from him.

   
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