Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“How did your man know to come here?”
No avoiding it now. I move to the chair across from the couch and sit, leaning forward with my forearms braced on my knees. Better this way. Less looming. Less like an interrogation.
“I saw his behavior at the diner,” I explain. “The way he talked to you. The way you kept looking at the door after he left.” She doesn’t say anything. So I keep going. “As Vice President in the Kings, when I think there might be trouble coming to one of ours—or around one of ours—I make arrangements.”
Her brows knit. “One of yours?”
“Not in the way that sounds.”
Her eyes flash. “How exactly does it sound?”
“Like I’m claiming something.”
“And are you?”
“No.”
The answer comes easy because it’s true. At least, true enough for her world.
“I’m saying I saw a problem and I put a dipshit on you.”
She blinks. “A what?”
“A dipshit.”
Her stare turns incredulous. “That is not a real explanation. Nor is that very kind of you to say about someone you call one of your own.”
I almost smile. “It’s the accurate one.”
“Tucker.”
“Prospect,” I explain. “I put a prospect on you. We call them dipshits until they have a road name.”
Her eyes widen. “You what?”
I nod toward the door. “That’s him.”
She sits back slightly, shocked in a way I probably deserve. “Was he following me?”
“A little bit. Mostly, his job is watching the house.”
Her mouth falls open. “You were stalking me?”
“Not exactly, but yes, sort of.” Her expression says that is exactly what this sounds like. I hold up a hand. “Listen to me before you decide whether to throw me out.”
She crosses her arms tighter over herself. “You have ten seconds.”
“Prospect’s job is to do what he’s told and keep his mouth shut while doing it. I told him to keep an eye on your place tonight. From the road. Not in your yard, not at your windows, not creeping around your damn bushes. Just watch.”
Lucy stares at me.
“Why?”
“Because your ex causes you to run and Roger showed his true colors at the diner. Because men like that don’t usually calm down by nighttime. Because I had a bad feeling.”
She looks away for a second, processing that. Or maybe trying not to.
I keep my voice even. “When he showed up, prospect called me.”
She looks back fast. “You just happened to be nearby?”
“No.”
The truth sits there between us.
“I was on my way.”
She studies me. “Because he called.”
“Yeah.”
There is a look in her eyes I can’t read. “What did you tell him? Why was he following me?”
“My instructions were to watch and sit tight. If Roger,” I see her expression tense, “became threatening, move in until I arrived. The primary goal the safety of your daughter and you.”
Her shoulders drop an inch, tension fighting with something else. Relief maybe. Maybe anger. “Threatening,” she repeats.
“He was in your doorway. You couldn’t get him to leave. Regardless of what may or may not have come out of his mouth, the threat was present. Dipshit followed his orders.”
She swallows. “Followed his orders,” she repeats on a whisper.
“The prospect did what he was told.”
Silence fills the room for a second. From Quinn’s room, nothing. Still asleep. Good kid. Heavy sleeper.
Lucy rubs her palms over her knees. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about this.”
“That’s fair.”
She watches me carefully with a fire building in her eyes. “You sent a biker to watch my house.”
“Prospect.”
Her eyes narrow. “That doesn’t make it better, Tucker.”
“No,” I admit. “Probably not.”
She lets out a shaky breath and leans back against the couch cushions, staring at the wall over my shoulder. “You can’t just decide things like that for me. I don’t even know you.”
“I know.” I reply with the truth.
“Do you?” She lets out an exasperated huff.
“Yes.”
Her eyes come back to mine, frustrated and bright. “Because it doesn’t sound like you get it.”
I take the hit because I earned it. “You’re right. I apologize for not making you aware of my intentions.”
That throws her. I can see it. She expected pushback. Maybe a growl. Maybe me digging in. Instead, I nod once and say it again.
“You’re right. I should’ve told you. And I’m sorry that you experienced the fear of an unknown man stepping in on your behalf. Even if the intention was good, the execution came up short. That’s on me, Lucy.”
The room goes still. Lucy studies me like she’s not sure she heard that correctly. I hold her gaze. “I’m not apologizing for making sure you were safe,” I explain. “I’ll never apologize for that. But I am telling you I should’ve found a better way than putting someone on your house without your knowledge.”
She blinks. Then looks down at her hands. “That’s unexpectedly reasonable.”
I huff a laugh. “Don’t tell anybody.”
Her mouth twitches again. Progress. I glance toward the front window where blue-red lights are beginning to sweep faintly across the far wall.