Red Dog (Evil Dead MC 6)

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I can assure you I’ve had stalkers before. It comes with the job.”

“And a knife at your throat? You have that before, too?”

At that she swallowed and looked away, lifting her chin. “I have a gun. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah? And where was that gun when he had you pinned against your car?”

She looked back at him and admitted, “In my purse.”

“Where it did you absolutely zero good.”

They stared at each other a long moment, and then her eyes dropped, taking in his clothes. “You’re soaking wet.”

“So are you.” He lifted his chin at her, his eyes sweeping over her. “You should go change out of those clothes before you catch your death.”

She had on a sleeveless red satin dress, the kind with a high collar that looked oriental and suited her perfectly. As he watched, she hiked up the hem exposing a garter around her thigh. He watched her slender fingers—with their red-painted nails—slip a wad of cash free. She pulled out the hundred-dollar bill he’d given her and held it out to him. “I think you earned this back tonight.”

His eyes had a hard time pulling away from that garter to meet her eyes. When he did, he saw a hint of vulnerability flash for a moment, before the tough girl act returned, and she lifted her chin. He relaxed back. “Keep it. Told you, worth every penny.”

She dropped the hand she’d held out. “Okay, fine.”

He watched her move to a carved wooden box sitting on a shelf in a bookcase. She opened it and shoved the wad of cash that she’d taken from her garter inside. Red Dog noticed the bills joined a tall stack already stored in the box.

“You don’t seriously keep your money in that, do you?” Red Dog asked in amazement.

She glanced over at him as she closed it. “Until I get to the bank and put it in my savings account, yes.”

Red Dog noted she’d said savings, not checking. “Saving up for something special?”

She nodded.

“And what would that be?”

“Do you really care?”

“Yeah, I really care,” he replied, amazed by his own answer.

She clasped her hands behind her back and took a step toward him. “You won’t laugh?”

Red Dog frowned. “Why would I laugh?”

She lifted her chin. “I’m saving up to open a dance studio.”

“A dance studio?”

She nodded, and something in her expression conveyed to him that she wanted his approval.

“What exactly is a dance studio?”

“I would teach children how to dance. Beginning ballet, tap and jazz dance.”

Red Dog nodded. “I thought you looked like you had real dance training.”

At the reminder of the dance he’d seen her do she looked away. But then she lifted her chin and met his gaze directly. “I’ve never seen you come around before.”