Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Maybe that’s why she works so much? Perhaps she took out loans to pay your husband. He lost the case, too.”
“Did he?” Sondra frowned. “That’s . . . unusual. Not to say it hasn’t happened before. But Alan doesn’t like to lose. Was it a while ago?”
“The trial was a few months ago.”
Sondra looked thoughtful. “I didn’t know that. There must have been a lot of evidence against her brother if Alan couldn’t get him off.”
Hmm. The more that they looked into Stein . . . the less he cared whether the bastard lived or died.
17
Devi was so tired that she wasn’t certain she could continue to put one foot in front of the other.
All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball on the floor and cry. But she had to get through this shift at the tavern. Just a couple more hours and then she could go home and stay up all night, holding the baseball bat that she’d found at the thrift shop.
It was Thursday night. She hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep since last Sunday. She’d caught a few hours here and there but she needed more.
“You need to go to bed.”
The voice startled her and she jumped, turning to find Hayes glaring up at her. He was sitting in her section again. The same place he’d been the last two nights she’d worked.
What was his problem? Why was he always around?
“I will once this shift is over,” she replied.
“But will you sleep?” he asked.
Sleep? What was that? Every night she stayed awake, waiting to see if Derick would come home.
Or if Vega would return.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he urged. “I can help you.”
Yeah, right. No one could help her.
Devi plastered a wide smile on her face. “I don’t know what you think I need help with! I’m fine.”
Little liar.
His hand was practically itching with the need to spank her ass.
But more than wanting to spank her, he wanted to wrap her up tight in a blanket and rock her back and forth on his lap until she fell asleep.
He wanted to feed her, make her rest, make that smile fill her whole face once more.
Hayes clenched his hands into fists and released them. Something was definitely going on with her tonight.
Drawing out his phone, he messaged Donovan.
Hayes: Not sure when I’ll be back tonight. You good?
Donovan: Wait . . . wait . . . what? Are you . . . do you have company for tonight?
Hayes sighed. Why him? Why did Kent have to pair him with this fucking annoying guy?
Hayes: No. I’m watching Devi tonight.
Donovan: Watching Devi or . . . I mean is that an euphemism for something else? I don’t speak grouchy old man.
Hayes: Keep going and you won’t speak anything. Ever again.
There. That ought to scare him into showing some respect.
Donovan: Just make sure you’re home by morning and treat her well. Also, if you bring home company, hang a sock on the door handle.
For fuck’s sake.
Kill him now. He’d told him he was watching her. A sock on the door? They didn’t share a room! Why would he need to do that? Switching to a different chat, he messaged Kent.
Hayes: You’re going to need to hire someone else.
Kent: What? Why? Are you quitting?
Hayes: No, I’m killing Donovan.
Kent: Sigh . . . what did he do now?
Hayes: He’s a fucking pain in the ass.
Kent: I can tell him to calm down.
Hayes: Don’t need you to do that. Just wanted to give you a heads up about his death.
Putting his phone back down, he studied the room. It was getting busy in here. So far tonight, Devi had broken three glasses and spilled two bowls of fries. And she hadn’t really laughed or smiled once.
Now, it seemed like Mac just had her wiping tables. The old man was studying her with concern too.
What was he missing here? There was something and it was frustrating him. Was it her other boss? Was he hassling her? Did it have something to do with her brother?
There hadn’t been any more threats. But Stein was still jumpy as hell.
Hayes had this bad feeling that something was going to happen . . . and soon. And he had no fucking idea how to prevent it.
“Give me your phone,” he demanded when Devi came close to his table.
“What?” She gave him a startled look.
“Phone. Now.” He held out his hand imperiously.
She huffed out a breath and pulled a phone from her apron pocket. It was pink and bedazzled and ridiculous.
He added his number and then rang it so he would have hers.
“Why are you giving me your number?” she asked.
He just shrugged. Finally, she walked off, muttering to herself.
Walking to the end of the bar, he gestured his head to Mac. The older man moved slowly over.