“And your other business involves illegal guns, I hear. I can tell you that I got no problem being a narc if it means Abilene stays safe. So you ever pull something out and threaten me or anybody I know for information, I got precisely fuck-all qualms about reporting it to the Sheriff’s Department and getting you shipped straight back downstate.”
“I’m not here to start trouble,” Ware said, though his tone and posture hadn’t softened a jot. “I’m here to talk to my ex. Now, you might think you know Abilene, but you don’t. Not like I do. She’s fucking helpless at the best of times, and I need to see with my own eyes that my kid is in good hands.”
“I can tell you they’re both fine.”
“I have no desire to turn this into some legal proceeding, Grossier. Or any other ugly scene. I just want to see my kid, like any father would. Though if I don’t like what I see, I’m prepared to make this nasty, I promise you that.”
Casey’s temper flared at that, skin going hot, brows drawing tight. It was the threat that had him seething, but there was more to it. And what do you know about being a father, precisely? Unless this guy had other children out there in the world, Casey was the one who’d put in the hours, lost the sleep, surrendered little scraps of his heart, one tiny connection after the other.
“You want to see her, you propose a time and place, and you tell me what it is you plan to talk about, and I’ll see if she’s willing. And there will be witnesses.”
“Who the fuck are you to tell me my rights, exactly?”
I don’t know what she and I are to each other, apart from a whole fucking tangled lot of something intense. “I’m someone who cares about her safety.”
“You fucking her? That what this is about?”
Casey’s neck flushed hot, and he was glad it was too dark for Ware to see. Last thing he needed was this asshole knowing he’d struck a nerve.
“That all you know about men and women?” Casey asked. “That they fuck each other sometimes?”
“I’m that kid’s father. Not you. It’s my job to make sure she’s in good hands, and I will fuck you up if you try to stop me.”
“Talk all the shit you want, but I’m the one who’s been there for them since your daughter was born, and I’ve got a sneaking suspicion I care more about both those girls’ welfare than you do. So here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna give you my number, and when you’re ready to talk like a civilized person, we’ll talk.”
“I’ll take your number,” Ware said, “but don’t believe for one second that I think what’s going on here is right.” He pulled out a phone, and Casey gave him his unlisted, pay-as-you-go number. So much for the wood chipper. And one more reason to dread that thing’s chiming.
“And get this straight,” Casey said slowly, precisely. “You want to see her, you go through me. Nobody else. Not my brother, not my business partner. I don’t want to hear about you bullying my customers for information, and definitely not my motherfucking family, you got that?”
Ware smiled, the gesture all nails and rust. “Yeah. I got it, big man. I cool off. I call you. We work this shit out.”
“Good.” Inside, he was shaking, but on the outside his body felt hard and coiled and ready to snap. He’d never known what protectiveness could do to a man. He’d always made it a point not to get attached to anything—or anyone.
“We’ll talk soon,” Ware said evenly, and turned away.
Casey memorized the digits on Ware’s plate while the guy climbed into his truck, and waited until he had disappeared completely down the road before he walked back to his bike, abandoning his plans to check on the bar. His body was humming, right down in his guts and bones; his nails had bitten red marks in his palms. He’d deal with Dancer later. That shit could wait, as could the DNA tests and everything else. Right now all he wanted was to see Abilene and the baby, to confirm they were safe and sound, maybe never leave their sides again.
And one thing seemed goddamn certain, he thought as he stomped on his starter.
That cocksucker isn’t getting anywhere near them. Not while there’s still blood pumping through this body.
Chapter 10
Abilene woke slowly, unsure at first where she was.
That happened a lot at Three C. That had happened a lot during a rather dark period of her short life, as well, though now as she blinked blearily at the walls and windows, the room that came into focus was pleasant and familiar. The same couldn’t be said for some of the holes she’d come to in.
The guest room was dim—its two windows were west facing, and when she’d nodded off it had been from the heat of the dipping sun. Now it was dark, the sky nearly black, and just the one soft bulb in the reading lamp by the bed was on, casting the room in its weak glow. She sat up and eyed the clock on the dresser. Not even seven, thankfully. Dinner wasn’t usually until eight, and she liked to help when she could, setting the table at the very least—
A soft knock sounded at the door. She smoothed her hair, rose, and tiptoed over, expecting Christine or Miah. She was surprised to find Casey there instead. He was in his socks, his shoes and jacket presumably abandoned in the Churches’ front hall.
“Hey,” she whispered, letting him know Mercy was asleep. “Thought you were out until after supper.”
“Something came up, so I rushed back.”
She went cold in a beat, right down to her bare toes. “What?”
He came inside and shut the door quietly. “Your ex came after me.”
Her eyes made a frantic inventory of him, searching for scrapes or cuts or rips in his clothes. “Came after you?”
“Nothing violent. Here, sit down.” He nodded to the bed.
She sat cross-legged, facing him squarely, expecting him to sit as well. Instead he strode to the crib, bracing his hands on the rail and staring down at the baby.
“Casey, you’re scaring me.”
He straightened, turned. “Sorry.”
She patted the covers. “Sit.”
He took a seat at the bed’s edge, rubbing his thighs.
“Tell me.”
“He was waiting in the lot when I stopped by the bar, barely a half hour ago. He knew who I was—Vince’s brother, and your boss. He wanted to know where you and the baby were.”
She hugged herself, the room feeling cold and too dark.
“I didn’t tell him, of course. I said to call me when he cooled down and could talk like a reasonable person.”
“He was angry, then.”
“Very. He took the number and climbed in his truck and rode off, after we traded some words. I think he’ll call. I hope he will, at least. Though I won’t lie. Before, I thought getting the two of you together to hash shit out was the only sensible course of action. Now that I’ve met him . . .”
“He’s intimidating,” she offered. A trait she’d found both terrifying and reassuring, depending on who had most recently pissed James off.
“He’s more than that,” Casey said. “He’s intense in a way I don’t like one fucking bit.”
She nodded to the baby, admonishing the swear. What a losing battle that was turning out to be.
“Sorry.”
“So you’ve changed your mind? You don’t think I should talk to him?”
“Man, I don’t even know.” He rubbed his face, worked his fingers through his beard, sighed. “On paper it’s the smart way to go. But I won’t lie, honey. He scares me. It scares me to imagine setting up some talk, and him hurting you or threatening you. But keeping you hidden’s no solution either. I dunno. I need some time to digest it all.”
“Sure.” She’d never seen him so rattled, and it worried her in turn. Casey was usually the picture of laid-back, always prepared to downplay any seriousness with a joke or trash-talking. She crawled across the bed to sit close. Instinct told her to touch him, to circle a palm on his back as she might do to Mercy when the baby was upset, but she kept both hands clasped safely in her lap. “Did he say anything else?” Anything about me, about my past?