Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“And do you have the full picture now?”
He shook his head. “I was trying to do it delicately. However, with him calling the mayor on you today, I realized that since he’s not playing nice, I don’t have to either.”
“Rafe?”
Rafe’s dark eyes turned to Lark.
“Yeah?”
“If you paid off my car loan…where is the car?”
He frowned. “Wasn’t it the one you’re driving?”
We both shook our heads.
“That’s a friend’s car,” I said, not willing to get into that whole bucket of worms.
“Interesting,” Rafe said, tilting his head to the side. “I’ll have to look into it…you’re not the first person to pay off a car loan or pay off the back payments, and not get their car back.” He turned to me, his eyes calculating. “How many cars do you pick up a week for him?”
I shrugged. “Three or four. Harold’s bank is the only place to get a loan, car or otherwise, in three counties, unless you do it online. If he doesn’t do it, then it’s unlikely that people can get one unless they have perfect credit and can hack an online loan. A lot of them default. There’s not much work to be had in this area of Texas. If you’re not an oil-field worker, at the factory, or working for us, then there’s nothing here. You have to drive to everything around here and to drive, you have to have a car. To have a car, you have to be able to pay for it. To be able to pay for it, you have to have a job, which you need a car to get to. It’s a vicious cycle, and Harold doesn’t just know this, he’s banking on it.”
“That’s the truth,” Lark muttered to herself.
“I’ll look into it.”
Then Rafe was gone just as suddenly as he came.
Lark turned to me, and she winced.
“You’re still mad.”
I nodded.
“At me?”
I nodded again.
“I didn’t mean to.”
I gave her a look that clearly relayed what I thought about that statement.
“I’m sorry.”
I turned away and opened the back door for the dog, who went out just as quietly as he’d been sitting there the whole time.
After he finished his business, I let him back in, all the while keeping silent.
“This is torture.”
I looked at her over my shoulder.
“I swear, if I thought that you weren’t going to get hurt, I would’ve told you…” she looked down at her hands. “He’s going to try to kill me, and he’s going to be wearing his Sal, ‘the good ol’ boy cop who wouldn’t hurt a fly’ cloak. And if you try to protect me, he’s going to kill you, too.” She looked away. “I love you, Baylor. I don’t want to see you die.”
I walked up to her and stood there until she looked at me.
“Look at me,” I demanded.
She did.
The moment I had her eyes, I moved in until my lips were hovering over hers.
“I won’t die.”
“You don’t know that.”
I grinned. “He might’ve thought he could come here, into my territory, and take you back. Hurt you. But he’d be wrong.”
“You don’t know that.”
I looked at her, dead in the eye, and let my mask slip.
“Is he only a cop?”
She swallowed and nodded.
“Was he in the military?”
She shook her head.
“Nothing special other than the cop portion?” I pushed. “He hasn’t branched out into the SWAT team or anything?”
Again, she shook her head. “No, nothing like that. He’s been a beat cop for as long as I can remember. Every once in a while, he runs the traffic cop shift. He went to college and got a degree in art before he went to the police academy…why?”
I smiled.
“I haven’t always been a tow truck driver. I joined the military when I was seventeen. I know my shit. I learned the hard way how to survive. I was in for quite a long time. And most of that time, I was special ops. Trust me when I say I can handle myself. He might be a cop, but he’s never had to fight for his life from what you’ve just described to me. I have. He can think he’s on top here, but he won’t be. I will be. I promise you that.”
Her eyes were pleading when she made eye contact with me.
“If something happens to you…” she breathed. “I won’t survive it. He’s taken everything from me. My parents. My brother and sisters. My babies. I can’t let him take you, too.”
My eyes were harsh.
“Your sisters? Your parents?”
She looked away.
“They thought my marrying Sal was the best thing in the world. We lived in poverty. My dad was a construction worker. My mother didn’t work. My sisters and I were all very close in age. Getting rid of me meant getting rid of that extra mouth to feed. Though, they only ever did that when I was home on Christmas break or during the summer. That extra body to clothe. It was a really good day for everyone. Even I was excited.” She breathed out harshly. “Weeks later, when I told them that he was abusive, my mother didn’t believe me. She thought it was just me being upset about the baby—which was my reason for marrying him so fast.” I paused. “My sisters hated me because they liked Sal. They were mad because I got him and didn’t want him. I stopped talking to them a really long time ago. It’s been years since I’ve even seen them.”