Bounty (Colorado Mountain 7)

He knew she’d looked to him when she said, “If you want me out of the trailer, then tonight, at least, I’d feel better being at Carnal Hotel with Mr. T. Maybe they have adjoining rooms. We’ll keep the doors open in between. He’s not exactly young but he used to be a Marine.”

Through this, getting what was on her mind, Deke’s fingers around hers tightened.

“I don’t want you out of the trailer,” he shared that truth but did it carefully.

“You’re being cool and I get it, Deke, that’s how cool you’ve been. Way cool. Super cool. Amazingly cool. But you’re right. I need to get on with it, take charge, get back to whatever is normal. But not tonight. Tonight I’m staying at the hotel with Mr. T.”

Now he was losing that cool she said he was.

“You are not stayin’ at a goddamn hotel with a man old enough to be your grandfather the only one lookin’ out for you.”

“We can tell Chace to park the cruiser outside my hotel door.”

“We’re not doin’ that either seein’ as you’re gonna be at your place with me and that’s also where the cruiser is gonna be.”

“What I’m saying is, you’ve been cool. I appreciate it. You’ve done a lot. It’s time to get on with things and I get that’s what you’re saying to me. So I’m getting on with things. You’re off duty.”

Oh no she didn’t.

He might not have been forthcoming about where they were at but he wasn’t stupid, she sure as fuck wasn’t either.

He needed to lay it out and they needed to talk it out but she had to know why he was letting that slide after she got assaulted in her own home.

But she knew better than that.

And she just plain was better than this passive-aggressive bullshit.

“I ask to be off duty?” he bit out.

“Well…no,” she returned hesitantly.

“That’s because I’m not askin’ to be off duty. I’m tellin’ you, this guy is still around, and there is no evidence pointing to the fact he was stupid enough to make the play he made and stick around, he’s actually even stupider if he makes an approach with a cruiser outside and me inside with you, knowin’ from that his ass’ll be in the can. You think you’re gettin’ what I’m sayin’, Justice, but you’re way the fuck off base.”

“I…uh, well…okay,” she stammered.

“And just to point more shit out you’ve probably had too much on your mind to figure out, the play this guy made was probably the only play he had and he knew it. Puttin’ the fear of God in you by sayin’ he’d be comin’ back was just his way of being a bigger fuckwad than he already is. He did something to Justice Lonesome, to anyone, but specifically Justice Lonesome, something that had a permanent end, he’s gotta know he’d have heat on him no way he could evade. He’s tied to your girl, he can’t erase that, made the damn call on your phone, cops would make that connection and he’d go down and he knows that. That’s why he left it like it was rather than ending that shit he did to you in a different way.”

“Okay, I hear you,” she said softly.

She heard him but as harsh as he was giving it to her, she needed to hear more to make sure she got it so he kept going.

“He delivered the message he wanted delivered and now he’s gotta know you got the resources to make any future plays a big fuckin’ fail. You got those resources, you activated them and then some. He had his opportunity. He took it. He’s got a brain in his head, he knows he shot that wad and he’s gotta get to Bianca another way. He shows tonight or ever until he’s caught, he’s Darwinian. ’Cause breaking and entering, assault, criminal threatening and attempted murder are gonna buy him a long stretch and haven’t heard a man bein’ able to reproduce behind bars bein’ the bitch to a brute who comes up his ass.”

Her, “You’re right, honey,” came instantly.

But now her voice sounded choked and Deke cut a glance her way to see she was fighting back laughter.

“I say something funny?” he asked the road when he aimed his eyes to it again.

“I’ve actually never heard the adjective ‘Darwinian’ used that way.”

“Right,” he clipped. With her humor back, deciding to put a line under that bullshit, he asked, “Now we goin’ to get you a TV, some beer, hittin’ the trailer to get our shit, hittin’ your house, settin’ up that mother, ordering pizza and kicking back with a movie?”

“Yes, Deke, that’s what we’re doing.”

“You’re right, that’s what we’re doin’,” he muttered irritably.

“I’m out of Baby Ruth bars,” she shared.

“We’ll get some of those too.”

“What’s your favorite candy bar?” she asked, now sounding just curious.

“That question is moot ’cause candy is candy and by definition it’s all awesome. Unless it has coconut in it. Then it sucks.”

“Right, no Mounds or Almond Joy, but I’ve got a taste for those new Butterfinger Cups. They’re like Reese’s Cups, just Butterfinger. And they’re so good, I think they’ve redefined awesome. So much so, I’m thinking of starting a letter-writing campaign for all candy bars to be made into cups. Baby Ruth Cups. 100 Grand Cups. Snickers Cups. KitKat Cups.”

“Gypsy, I already talked about little dogs and their sweaters with you today. I got a cap on how much ridiculous shit I can discuss in a week and that blew right past that cap. You want Butterfinger Cups, Baby Ruths, whatever, I’ll get ’em for you. Until the time that cap’s back on, we won’t talk about them and that means we can continue a candy bar to cup discussion sometime next weekend.”