Bounty (Colorado Mountain 7)

It had long since gone past that.

But on Wednesday he’d noted she’d just settled into it. She dug him. They were tight. She needed him. Shit was extreme. She was taking what he had to give, all of it, because she wanted it that way.

He’d share later exactly all that entailed.

Right then, they had to get through that day.

And that night.

That day being the day Brendan Caswell said he was going to come back and finish the job he’d started a week before.

Decker had found out who Bianca Constantine owed a substantial amount of money, that motherfucker being a man named Brendan Caswell.

Deck had not found Bianca, but he’d found she was in deep shit with this Brendan guy, a dealer, low level, ambitious, wanting to make his mark and move up the ranks. But he’d gotten in heavy with Bianca, thinking with her pedigree of having a fading bombshell B-movie star of a mom and the lead guitar of a heavy metal band dad that she’d be good for it…or someone would.

Bianca was in the wind. Caswell was too.

Chace’s hands were tied to local investigations and they got nothing. No prints. No tire tracks. No one in town had seen the guy. DNA tests took weeks, sometimes months, but although Caswell had a record, he did not have DNA on file. They’d have to catch him and test him to put him there with Jussy because she couldn’t identify him since he’d been wearing a mask.

The only good news with this was that Decker had reported he had solid leads and felt he was closing in on Bianca, his priority (according to Jussy) if not Caswell.

“Wouldn’t say this, man, if I didn’t believe it but think we’ll have our hands on her in twenty-four hours. She proves even more slippery than she’s been, intel we got is still tight so the most it’ll be is forty-eight. So hang in,” Decker had told Deke the day before.

No one knew if Bianca had gotten her hands on the cake to pay Caswell and that was why he’d disappeared.

All they knew was that there was no sign of Caswell anywhere in the county and the BOLO on him hadn’t brought them anything.

And they knew that Bianca had burned through the huge trust fund her folks had set up for her, burned through more with friends she’d asked for loans she didn’t pay back, that had dried up and now she was broke. She was also not in contact with any friends or family, was addicted to partying in all its incarnations (booze and dope, however she could get them) and way the fuck out on a limb.

Decker reported directly to Deke and Thurston and they both made the decision together to give Jussy all this information.

She was not weak. She was the kind of woman who felt knowledge was power, not ignorance being bliss. The details on her friend were a hit that Deke delivered while they were on his couch and she was in his arms, but she did what he had come to know was the only thing Jussy knew how to do.

She absorbed them, felt the pain, sorted her shit and kept on going.

And today he had to help her keep on going.

He had a plan that would culminate in her behind the fortress of security Callahan gave her, Deke there with her, that night being the first night she spent back at her house.

It had to come and Deke felt it was not only prudent to put her behind Callahan’s security, with the cruiser that Chace was setting on her house, but it was also a big fuck you to Brendan Caswell if the moron actually showed that he might have gotten to her and taken her down, but she didn’t stay there.

And anyway, she had a king-size bed. His was a double. Good enough for sleeping. But he’d be wanting room to move when they’d had their conversation and were doing a fuckuva lot more than sleeping in a bed.

“I do not understand why, on a Sunday, when you aren’t working, I sure as hell am not gonna be working, that we’re up this early,” Jussy stated and Deke pulled himself out of his thoughts and focused on her.

Christ, all that hair, even prettier when it was a mess after she slept on it.

It’d be good they had the conversation they were going to have so Deke could do all he wanted to do with that hair.

“See the caffeine kicked in and you can speak English again,” he joked.

“Deke, it’s seven thirty,” she told him something he knew.

“Which means we did sleep in. Nearly an hour and a half.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Suck more of that back, gypsy princess, so I can get my Jussy back.”

That bought him a narrow look, one she took her time giving him, one he knew behind it she was wondering just what the fuck was going on between them.

She’d get that tomorrow.

He had to focus on getting her through today.

And tonight.

“Brunch at Krys’s,” he finally answered her question. “Remember?”

“I remember but we’re not supposed to be there for three hours.”

“We need to take the water tanks to Tate’s to fill ’em, bring them back, then you need a shower and I need a shower and after that we need to get to Krys and Bubba’s. For that I need you caffeinated and on the other side of your morning grump because Tate and Laurie like you but they won’t if you hand them a dose of your morning sass.”

“I’ve been really good keeping a lid on my morning sass, Deke. And you know it.”

“I do. I also know it took effort and I further know today that lid has slipped.”

She released her mug with one hand so she could toss it out, saying, “It’s Sunday and seven thirty. Unless you’re going to church, which we aren’t, it’s law not to be up this early on a weekend, especially Sunday.”

Law.