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Heading back inside, he left Sunny on the porch with his food and water. He found Lucy in the living room. The house still smelled of dinner—he could hear chicken sizzling in a frying pan—but Zach knew he couldn’t eat. Not with Lucy looking so grim.
With a nod to her, he told her, “We should talk.”
She glanced at him, wary, but she sat down on the couch. He sat next to her.
Hands folded tight in her lap, she glanced at him. “I’ve been thinking, too. And...well, I don’t think I can be with anyone right now. I...I’ve got money problems.”
He took her hand. “Don’t we all sometimes. Will you tell me about it?”
She shook her head. “My problem. I have to sort it out.”
“It’s going to be my problem, too, if it’s coming between us.”
She stood up. “That’s just it. There is no us. What happened today...well, I don’t know if I should say thanks or sorry for leading you on. I...I’m not good news. I...my daddy wasn’t much good and I’m starting to think I’m just too much like him. I...I’m sorry.” Turning, she headed out of the house through the kitchen, almost running away.
He followed her as far as the kitchen door and watched her walk to her room, her head down and her hands fisted at her sides.
From behind, Charlie let out a breath. “Just give her some space. She’s—”
“She’s being pressured to pay off a debt she can’t afford.” Zach turned from the door and faced Charlie. “She’s not going to tell me, but I heard enough with the two of you yelling. Now either you talk to me or I’m going to go have a knock-down fight with Lucy to get to what I need to know. One way or the other I want to hear what’s going on.”
***
Lucy sat in her room, staring at the letter that had come for her today. It was from Martino. It hadn’t gone through the mails, but had been left on the kitchen table. Martino had wanted to make it clear he could get to her—or Charlie—any time he wanted. Locked doors wouldn’t stop him. She read the note again, hardly able to believe it. He’d added a five thousand dollar penalty for late payment. Five thousand! And he wanted the payments moved up to once a week. She groaned and fell back on the bed.
Where was she going to get that kind of money?
Maybe she should just give up and clear out. But who would look after her mom? And Charlie? And if she wasn’t around, would Martino just go after them for the money? He’d already hinted as much. Pressing a hand over her eyes, she rubbed them. Charlie was right—Martino was going to try and pull as much money from her as he could. She was never going to get out from under this.
Turning, she buried her face in her pillow. For a short time today, she’d been happy. When she’d been in Zach’s arms, she’d forgotten about everything except that he left her feeling good about herself—about life. But she didn’t really have a life she could call her own. She had her daddy’s debts—and she was trapped. If she went to the police...what could she even tell them? Martino had lawyers—he’d probably produce some legal paperwork showing how she owed him money because her daddy had signed something. She wouldn’t put it past Martino to fake her daddy’s signature or even hers. Martino had never actually threatened her—not within anyone else’s hearing. He was just really good at making sure she knew he was dangerous.
So she was stuck—trapped.
She had no life—and no future. And nothing to offer a hard-working man like Zach.
After an hour of wallowing, she got up and drew a hot bath. She soaked for another hour, dried off and slipped into baggy sweats. She had a faint headache from hunger and knew she’d better eat something. She headed back to the house and slipped in through the kitchen door. The rest of the house seemed quiet. One light had been left on in the kitchen and Charlie had left a plate on the table for her. Lucy dug out the fried chicken from the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table to eat.
She’d just polished off a thigh when Zach showed up in the doorway of the kitchen.
He stared at her, eyes dark and unreadable. He’d pulled off his boots, which was why she hadn’t heard him coming, but he still had on his shirt and jeans.
Eyebrows lifting, he crossed his arms. “You want to talk now?”
Getting up, she carried her plate to the sink. She put it down and turned, leaning her palms on the counter behind her. “Has it occurred to you I don’t want sympathy and I don’t need your help. It’s my life and my problems. You and Charlie—” She waved a hand. “Why can’t either of you get that?”
“Because you look like you’re about to break. Now I’m not stupid. I put two and two together. You owe money, you’re being pressured, and you’re trying to handle something on your own that’s going to beat you into the ground. So here are your choices. Let me—and Charlie—help you. Or go on stomping around like you’re five and I’m going to go fix things for you anyway, and then you can keep on sulking.”
She came over and stood in front of him so she could punch a finger into his chest. “Back off, cowboy. I don’t like either of those choices.”
Grabbing her hand, he spun her around so her back was to the wall. He put his hands on her waist and held her there.
“Damn, woman—what is it about you that just gets under my skin.” He put his mouth on hers, his lips crushing hers. She got a hand on his shirt and bunched it in a fist. She needed this—she wanted not to keep thinking about her problems.
Curling her fingers around his shirt, she yanked it open, unsnapping it. She put her hand on his hot skin and moaned. He slipped his hands under her sweat top and found her breasts. He rolled the tips between his fingers and she gave another moan.
Pulling back from her, he grabbed her sweat pants and pulled. They slipped down, already so baggy they wanted to fall off.
“Well?”
