He continued to hold my eyes and then he jerked his chin out at me and said low and quiet, “Big.”
Oh shit.
“What?” I whispered as I took a step back.
“Don’t move,” he ordered and I stopped because his order was firm and serious and I didn’t want to test how firm and serious he was. “He didn’t make it worth your while, I’ll deal with him. So I’ll make it worth your while.”
“What…” my voice sounded choked so I swallowed then started again, “Make what worth my while?”
“You and me are getting married.”
My head jerked again even as the rest of my body froze.
Then I said shrilly, “What?”
“I need a wife, you’re her.”
Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Fucking shit!
“Um…” I started, my heart hammering, the one room and marital status of check in explained, my need to flee overpowering, my sense of self-preservation keeping me rooted to the spot but I got no further, he started talking.
“He didn’t take care of you, I will. You need out from under him, I’ll make that happen. You marry me; I pay you fifty thousand dollars. At the end, I deal with the divorce. Once it’s done, you’re clear. I’ll see to it we’re untied, all you’ll have to do is sign the papers, you’ll never see me again and I’ll also see to it that wherever you decide to go, Shift doesn’t follow.”
“The end of what?” I asked.
“My business.”
“What business?”
“That’s need to know and when you need to know I’ll tell you what you need to know.”
In other words, I’d likely never know all of it just what I needed to know.
“The gun… the money?” I asked.
“I just got let outta prison. I wasn’t in there while the Pope considered my sainthood. I got enemies.”
“Oh God,” I whispered.
“You’re covered,” he told me.
I’d heard that before and now the person who promised me that was dead and the person he promised to cover me from was the reason I was standing right where I was.
I shook my head. “I don’t think –”
“I got no time and I got shit to do. You’re gonna bail, you can walk out that door. I got nothin’ to offer you but cash and my word. I can see you pickin’ me up from prison, my word don’t mean dick to you but I’m tellin’ you right now, and it’s up to you to believe it or not, my word is solid. No harm will come to you and nothin’ from my business will blow back on you. You’ll be my wife, you’ll act like my wife and you’ll do it until this is done. That’s it. Then we go our separate ways.”
“I’ll act like your wife?” I asked quietly.
He shook his head once. “You wanna let me into that pussy, I’ll take it. No increase in money, I don’t pay for pussy. That you give if you got a mind to give it. You don’t, I’ll find what I need elsewhere and that won’t blow back on you either.”
This was not exactly the romantic, tender marriage proposal every girl dreamed of.
“Ty,” I started, lifting up a hand, palm out then dropping it. “I’ve been…” I hesitated. “I’ve managed to…” I stopped again.
“Jesus, spit out,” he rumbled.
I nodded and spit it out. “That world has been at the edge of mine a long time, pushing in and I’ve managed to steer clear. I don’t know what this business of yours is and I don’t know you and I already have the leftover bullshit that comes from broken promises. I don’t need more.”
“I told you none of my shit would blow back on you,” he reminded me.
“And I told you I’ve heard that before and here I stand,” I reminded him.
He stared at me, still unreadable but something about him made me think that he wasn’t blank, he was alert and assessing and he gave no indication of it but it felt like he was reading me down to my bones.
Then he said quietly, “Shift has fucked you.”
“I know,” I said quietly back and he had. Shift knew this, he knew Walker wanted this, he sent me anyway, he blew right through my boundaries, lying to me and putting me in the clutches of a huge, terrifying, taciturn, freshly-released ex-con with enemies and a gun.
“This time, you walk out that door, nothin’ bites you,” Walker told me. “You go back to him, he’ll find a way to fuck you worse and how he does it, you might not be walkin’ out the door.”
I pressed my lips together then unpressed them and whispered, “I know.”
“I can get you clear of that.”
I had to admit, that was definitely something to consider.
He kept talking. “Fifty G’s will set you up anywhere you wanna go. I’ll take care of Shift.”
He held my eyes. I noted his were unwavering. He was hiding from me, I knew it. Though I figured you learned a pokerface in prison, probably not healthy to wear your heart on your sleeve. But he held my eyes, he didn’t look away, whatever he was hiding was his to hide from the world, not something he was specifically hiding from me.
And he was also not in my face. He wasn’t pissed. He wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t threatening. He told me I could walk out and I believed him. In fact, everything he told me, I believed. I’d been around a lot of the dregs, Ronnie saw to that, so I had a highly tuned bullshit detector. Whatever this man was, he was not bullshitting me.
And he could get me clear of Shift, I knew it. I knew it because Shift was scared of him, I could see this now. That was the reason behind the frantic phone call. He wanted to make sure Ty Walker got what he wanted and liked what he saw. He’d played me to make sure Walker didn’t lose it and take what Shift owed him a different way.
And he was right, I pulled up stakes, fifty thousand dollars would set me up.
And I’d be clear of Shift.
And away from that life, clean and free.
Clean and free.
Finally.
“How long would this, um… business last?” I asked.
I didn’t know if I was seeing things but I could swear it looked like his body relaxed even if the change was so slight it seemed like an illusion.
“Don’t know,” he answered.
“I have a job,” I told him.
“You want clear of Shift, you gotta leave Dallas. You leave Dallas, you leave your job. Might as well do it now.”
This was true. It sucked because I liked my job; I’d been working at Lowenstein’s for nearly ten years. But I always knew I’d be leaving it one day, either when I gave up on Ronnie or when Ronnie made a break for it and took a chance on us and, more recently, to get away from Shift.
However…
“I didn’t give notice.”
“Emergency,” he said.
“What?”
“Emergency leave of absence. You gotta look after your sick Mom. Your Mom don’t get better, you don’t go back. Shit happens. They’ll deal.”
“I don’t have a Mom.”
He went silent and did that blank but still alert and assessing thing.
Then he said, “Your Dad.”
“I don’t have one of those either.”
Again, I could swear something happened to his body even though I couldn’t be sure but this time it wasn’t relaxing, it was tensing.
“Don’t give a fuck who it is, a grandparent, whatever –”
I shook my head indicating I didn’t have grandparents either.
He stared at me.
Then he whispered, “Jesus.”
“Long story,” I muttered.
He went silent again and stared at me.
This went on awhile.
Then he said, “I told you, got shit to do. I don’t have time to give you a chance to consider your options. It’s now or never. Walk out that door or stay and become Mrs. Walker.”
I pressed my lips together.
Then I took the nanosecond he was giving me to consider my options.
Then I sucked in breath.
Then I asked, “Can I have the first shower???
?
* * * * *
Ty
Lexie’s phone rang as he walked out of the phone store. He yanked it out of his back pocket, turned it and saw the Colorado area code on the display, a number he knew. He flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“Yeah?”
“Bad news, brother,” Tate’s voice came at him and Ty pulled in breath.
Tate had been hard at work, not a surprise.
That was because Tatum Jackson always had his back. He probably didn’t sleep last night in order to have Walker’s back.
“Yeah?” he repeated.
“Your woman, she likes clothes.”
Walker’s chest released.
“Already know that,” he lied. He didn’t know it but the weight of her bag meant she stuffed that fucker so full, the instant she opened it, it would explode all over the room.
Luckily, he’d given her her instructions and took off so he wasn’t around when that happened.
So he reckoned it was a good guess.
And now he knew Jackson had pulled her credit.
Guess confirmed.
He listened to Tate’s low laughter.
Then, “I bet.”
“That all you got?” Walker asked.
“Yep. She’s clean. No record. Four speeding tickets the last five years and a shitload of parking tickets. Your woman’s got a need for speed and thinks she can park anywhere she wants and she does.”
Walker would have guessed that too considering her ride. Not many women with classy shades, shoes and purses had rides that sweet. Hinted at a wild side. He thought it explained her connection with Shift but apparently it was something else.
“She carries debt, not a lot of it, “Jackson continued. “Over two credit cards a little over a thousand dollars. All payments current though. She rents. Works steady. Saw her DMV picture, brother. The State employee who took that should win an award. Best driver’s license picture I’ve seen in my life.”
Lexie was photogenic. Also not surprising. Though, probably the picture was actually shit, she was just so beautiful even a shit photo looked good.
Though the debt, not good. Not smart. She should have worried less about clothes and more about getting herself out from under Shift’s thumb.
“Sucks about her folks though,” Jackson went on.
Fuck.
He found shade and moved under it.
Then he demanded, “Talk to me.”
Silence then, “You don’t know?”
“Don’t know what you’re gonna tell me,” Walker evaded.
Pause then, “Right.” Another pause then, “She’s clean. Her parents were not.”
Fuck.
He was silent. Jackson kept talking.
“Caught that, did a little digging and called a couple of guys. They’re digging too. I’ll know more but what I got, they were junkies. Made the news in Dallas thirty-four years ago. She was born in a crack house. Mother so gone, don’t know she even knew she had a kid and probably a miracle the baby survived and wasn’t fucked up, considering what the Mom was doin’ to her body. Someone in the house was together enough to phone emergency, they went in, got her, placed her with her grandparents. Don’t know what went down after that until I get callbacks but I do know the Mom OD’ed five years later. Dad died four years after from internal injuries when he got his ass kicked by a loan shark.”
He was right, it was definitely fuck.
“She was placed with her grandparents?” Walker asked.
“That’s why I’m diggin’. It was the Mom’s parents. Death records show the Grandma died when your girl was six. The Grandpa died when she was thirteen. I don’t have access to those kinds of files but my work takes me to Texas, got some people I know so I’ve contacted those who can access the files or know people who do. May take a couple of days.”
“What about her Dad’s grandparents?”
“That was easy. Traced him, found out they died in a car accident when he was sixteen.”
“Aunts? Uncles?”
“Mom, an only child. Dad had a sister but she didn’t step in. Don’t know why.”
Foster care.
Walker looked across the street to their hotel thinking about Lexie and her shades and high heels and short-shorts and bright smile in foster care then, thirty-four years later, finding her shit tied to the likes of Shift.
Fuck.
Jackson spoke in his ear. “Ty, you’re marryin’ this girl, you don’t know this shit?”
“Both of us prefer to look to the future,” he lied again though he had no clue what Lexie preferred. However, that statement was pure bullshit from him. He was living in the past and would until mistakes were rectified.
Then, if he had a future, he’d look to it.
“That’s good news,” Tate said quietly, misreading him and Walker thought it was good this conversation was happening on the phone. He’d learned a lot in prison but he didn’t expect part of that was pulling shit over on Tatum Jackson. “Though, that’s true, why am I doin’ what I’m doin’?”
“Can’t be too careful.”
“She know about you?”
“She picked me up outside the penitentiary yesterday.”
Silence then Tate started digging, this time somewhere else.
“You meet her in Dallas before you came home and that shit went down with Fuller and Misty?”
“Yep.” Another lie.
“Again, brother, seen her picture. How the fuck you leave that behind?”
“I think me bein’ an idiot was proved in a courtroom, Tate.”
This was no lie.
“Don’t wanna stir up demons, Ty, but that shit, it’s not on you and everyone in town knows it. That was all Fuller.”
He knew that. Oh yeah, he fucking knew that.
He didn’t respond.
“It was me they targeted, fuck, anyone would have gone down,” Tate told him. “Don’t get buried under that shit. Rise above.”
Again, Walker didn’t respond.
Jackson waited for it then gave up.
“I’ll keep diggin’. Call you back. It’s tomorrow. When’s the wedding?”
“She’s shoppin’ for a dress.”
Or at least he hoped she was. He gave her a wad of cash and he had the valet ticket. The ticket was not insurance. All he had was hope she wouldn’t bolt but he wouldn’t blame her if she did. The fact that she didn’t walk out the door when he gave her the chance still surprised him. It sucked but he had Shift to thank for her not leaving. She was desperate, he played on that. He didn’t like it but it worked in his favor and he had a mission, he was focused, so he used it.
That said, this was done, he’d set her up and, she was smart, she’d go onto a life where she never again had to make desperate, fucked up decisions like marrying an ex-con she didn’t know.
His response got a low chuckle from Jackson then, “I’m sure she is.” Pause then, “I suspect she’s good people, you’re marryin’ her so I’m glad she gave you a second chance, saw through that shit, knows what she’s gettin’.”
She had no fucking clue.
Time to move on. So he did, out from under the awning and down the sidewalk toward the jewelry store.
“How’s Jonas?”
“Growin’ so fast, Laurie can’t keep him in clothes.”
“Laurie?”
Pause then, “Fuck, man, forgot. I got married.”
Walker stopped dead and he heard someone behind him let out a squeak and scuttle around him but he didn’t move.
“No shit?”
A definite smile in his voice before, “No shit.”
“The woman from the news,” Walker stated.
“Yeah.”
He tried to remember if he’d seen any photos of her when all that shit went down with Tate and that serial killer who had kidnapped his woman and stabbed her with the intent to rape her with that knife before he killed her which, luckily, he didn’t get around to doing. They’d repo
rted it on television and during a variety of sports commentator shows considering Tate had a very short-lived career as a linebacker in the NFL.
He’d watched it in the joint, seen photos of Tate, none of his woman.
But it didn’t care if she was butt ugly. She wasn’t Neeta, Tate’s old bitch from high school and on and off for what seemed would last an eternity. Fortunately, it didn’t and Tate got shot of her and could talk about being married with a smile in his voice. Unfortunately, Neeta had been one of the victims of the serial killer Tate tracked down. Neeta was so much of a pain in the ass, she was the definition of a cunt, just a shade better than Misty but not by much. Still, no one deserved what went down with her.
Except, maybe, Misty. And he knew thinking that made him a dick and he didn’t fucking care.
“Told her about you,” Jackson said in his ear. “She’s already conspiring with Maggie, planning a celebration for your return.”
Fuck.
“Not necessary,” Walker said as he started walking again.
“Don’t fight it, Ty. When Laurie’s in the mood to be friendly, no one can stop her. And you know Maggie.”
Terrific.
“And, trust me, she cooks for you, you’ll wonder why you even considered fighting it,” Tate went on.
At least that was something.
He pushed open the doors and hit the plush interior of the exclusive jewelry store. The clerks looked up at him and he noticed two go pale. They were the men. The women had a different reaction.
They always did. Though they’d rethink their reaction if they knew he was an ex-con and what he was sent down for.
He didn’t care. All he cared about was it was air conditioned. Spending five years in a correctional institute in southern California he’d had enough hot to last a lifetime. It sucked it was the beginning of summer. Even his hometown of Carnal in the Colorado Mountains would get hot.
But when winter hit… heaven.
“Gotta buy a ring, Tate,” he muttered into the phone, going direct to one of the women who was smiling slow, turning fully to him, not knowing she was about to make one fuck of a commission.
“Right,” Jackson replied.
“Got a new number. This is Lexie’s phone. I’ll text it to you.”
“Right,” Jackson repeated.
“Later.”
“Later and Ty?” he called.