“You too.” And it was. Saint had helped me out on a few occasions. But that wasn’t the reason we’d stayed in touch. It was because of Aderyn.
“How long you in town for?” he asked.
“Not sure yet.”
“He’s deciding on whether to kick North’s baby sis out of his cabin, or drag her into his bed.”
I grunted. I knew he was kidding, but he hit a nerve because he couldn’t have been more right, which was why it was even more imperative that she leave.
“I just met her. She was in the laundromat with Aderyn.”
Jaeg swore beneath his breath. “What the hell? Seriously? My sister is at the laundromat? Fuck. She’s supposed to be at Caleb’s doing an oil change on his Range Rover.”
“It seems that’s a habit of hers,” Saint said. “Not being where she’s supposed to be.”
Jaeg pulled his cell from his back pocket and tapped on the screen. “Never hire your sister.” He walked away and put his phone to his ear. “Ads, what the fuck?” The office door slammed shut.
“How are Deck and the team?” Saint asked.
He’d never met my team, but he knew about them and what we did, as well as the fact that a lot of it was illegal. But Saint had seen firsthand what these assholes we took down did to people, the worst being human trafficking. When he had the chance, Saint did what he could to help through his legal channels.
We chatted for a few minutes about Deck, Georgie, and the new baby, then a few other guys on the team—Tyler, Connor, and Kai. And he told me about his half-sister who was currently volunteering on a nature reserve in South Africa.
Then I got down to business. “Who is Dale Richards?”
Saint frowned. “The Caramel King?”
I shrugged. “Heard his name and was checking into something.”
Saint didn’t press like Jaeg would, and that was why I was asking him. “Retired guy. Got to be in his mid-eighties now and lives in a fuck of a nice place just outside of town. Owned a caramel company. Sold it for a fortune a while back.”
That didn’t sound like someone who would scare the shit out of Macayla. Maybe it had nothing to do with Dale Richards?
Saint’s radio crackled, and a woman’s voice echoed. “We have a ten-ten in progress at the high school. Northwest parking lot. It’s Oliver again, Chief.”
Saint’s brows arched. “Sounds like us.”
A ten-ten was a fight, and we’d had our fair share of them in high school.
He unclipped his radio and raised it to his mouth while pressing the side button. “Ten-four. On my way. Two minutes out.” He reclipped the radio. “Can you meet up Friday?”
“I’m working on the house.”
He moved toward his SUV and opened his door. “You’ve been working on it for nearly a decade. Friday. We’ll hit Zero Crow for old time’s sake.” His lip twitched. “Safest place for you.”
I grunted.
He jumped in his car and peeled out, the lights flashing and siren blaring.
Macayla
I half perched on the wooden stool, the guitar across my lap and one leg bent as my foot rested on a rung.
I cleared my throat and leaned forward, lightly grasping the microphone on the stand. “Umm, so for this last song, I’d like to sing something I started writing years ago and haven’t been able to finish until recently. It’s still a little raw, but I hope you guys will like it.”
There were whistles and claps with stomping feet from the audience. Addie was at the bar shouting, “Woohoo!” with her beer in the air.
Jaeg was next to her. A blonde girl was snuggled into him, although I wasn’t sure he even noticed her.