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“Only the bad guys,” I tell her. “Dexter kills the bad guys.”
“And you?”
My lips thin. “I do what I have to do.”
She studies me several intense beats, in which I fear she sees more of her ex in me than I’d hoped, but if she does, she disregards it. She offers me a soft smile that could charm even an angel right out of the sky. “What you did today was really special,” she says.
She’s fucking special.
I’m the guy who’s going to gut her ex, and when I’m done, that will be fucking special.
She pushes to her toes and kisses me, an angel blessing the devil himself with her attention, and as expected of the devil, I take what she offers. “I need to go by my place.”
“I’ll take you,” I say, more than eager to look inside the life of this beautiful, amazing woman.
Dexter barks and I laugh. “Your place it is. Dexter and I can’t wait to get a look.”
“It’s boring and nothing like yours.” But she links her arm with mine. “But it’s mine.” On the wordmine,her voice lifts, and she cuts her gaze.
She wants something that is hers.
She felt like nothing was hers.
This tells me much about this woman. She didn’t want her ex’s money. She didn’t want to stay with him, but she did. The question is why? And does it have anything to do with why she tried to push me away? The bigger question is: does it have anything to do with why her ex is coming after her and her mother right now?
All questions I want answered, and as we settle into my car with Dexter in the back, and Dexter leans in and licks her cheek, I decide he has the right idea. I’ll lick her into submission and admissions if that’s what it takes, just in a much different manner. And as an added bonus, I’ll love every moment.
Chapter twenty-four
Abbie
“Address?” Gabe asks before we pull out of the shelter driveway.
I hesitate a moment, aware that my place is nothing like his, but this is not a battle I can fight. It’s not a battle at all. It’s a choice. I choose how I live and that is something I value. No one tells me what to do now and after years of living in a prison, my freedom is almost bittersweet, in ways few would understand. Embracing who and what I am, which is no one’s wife, I give him the address, and if he notices that the location is far from grand, he doesn’t show it.
Gabe has barely pulled out of the parking lot when my cellphone rings, which is in my purse, on his floorboard, despite the fact that I barely remember putting it there. I dig for it and pull it out, grimacing as I do.
“It’s Kenneth,” I say, eyeing Gabe. “My ex, but you know that by now. I just—I had to say that.” I start to ramble. I never ramble—good attorneys never ramble and I am a good attorney, and yet, right now, in this car, I do it—I ramble. “And you know, he’s probably calling to gloat over those men threateningmy mother. Or hoping I’ll tell him about it and ask for help. Or he’s calling to offer me money for the shelter or I could go on.” I decline the call. “I’m not giving him the satisfaction of any of those things.” I shove my phone back in my purse. “Talk me off the ledge, Gabe. I want to call him back and know what my mother is facing.”
His cellphone buzzes with a text and he pulls it from his pocket as he halts at a stoplight, while Dexter licks me in the face. “This is Walker Security,” Gabe says. “And consider yourself off the ledge. There are no pending charges against your mother.”
“That are filed yet,” I say, rubbing on Dexter. “It could be coming.”
“Maybe,” Gabe says, reading more of the message right up until when the light changes. “Nothing more worth sharing right now.” He drops his phone in the cup holder and puts us in drive. “Still nothing on why your ex wants the shelter or rather that property.” He glances over at me. “Any new ideas?”
Unease rolls through me. I do have ideas. Lots of ideas. I don’t look at him. I stare straight ahead. “Does it matter why? He’s going to make my life hell if I don’t give it to him. I have to find a place to relocate to long term.”
I can feel his heavy look, but when I think he will push me, he doesn’t. “Maybe this ranch will work out,” he suggests, offering a positive thought.
I sigh. “As much as I wish it could, it can’t. There isn’t enough of a population to support the volume of adoptions we hope to turn weekly. I need a place in the city or maybe in Brooklyn, but I’ve looked. I can’t find anything in the budget.”
“I’ll make some calls,” he says. “I might have a few clients that need a write-off that could help.”
“Gabe—”
“Don’t tell me not to help,” he says, glancing over at me. “Haven’t you figured out that isn’t going to work with me?”
“You barely know me, Gabe.”
