“Cut the shit, Alabama.” Brian’s face is so twisted she doesn’t even recognize him. “I know what you two are doin’.” He shakes his head. “Griff’s barely hangin’ on as it is. He doesn’t need someone like you messin’ with his career.”
“You mean you don’t need someone like me around Griff,” she shoots back, instantly knowing what’s up Brian’s ass. The fun, the games, the women, the easy cash cow are gone. “Helpin’ him, showin’ him that things don’t have to be how they are.”
“Think of yourself, then.” Brian’s gaze narrows. “You won’t get far if you keep fuckin’ Griff. The press is gonna find out. And won’t that be a shame.”
Alabama goes still. Her face burns at the threat, at the thought that Brian knows about her and Griff and is using her past to scare her away from him. Pompous little prick weasel. He’s always been a sore loser, ever since she chose Griff over him.
She meets his stare dead-on. Draws herself up. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about.”
“Don’t I?” He takes a step forward. Into her space. “He wears you down, Al. Lets you down. But you know that better than I do, don’t you? You know he’ll never be satisfied with just you.”
“Why’re you telling me this?”
“Because it’s an easy fix. All you gotta do is give me what you’re givin’ Griff. Should come as second nature to you.”
Her eyes blur with hot tears. Unfairly pegged by Brian. By everyone, the world.
“Fuck off, Brian.”
She moves to leave, but he lashes out and snatches her wrist.
“I am your boss,” he hisses.
“Griff’s my boss,” she fires back. “And if he knew you were touchin’ me he’d put your head through the damn wall.”
“Leave Griff alone.”
Though her heart’s in her throat, she keeps her voice even, determined not to let this asshole get to her. “You’re hurtin’ me, Brian.”
His grip loosens, but he doesn’t let go.
The only sound is the rumbling engine of the bus as it tears down the freeway. Then Alabama wrenches her wrist from Brian’s grasp. Rage floods her veins as she stares him down. “You touch me again and I’ll skin you. My daddy’s a cop. I know where to hide the bodies.”
Before he can say anything, she rips open the door and slams it shut behind her.
Fucking creep.
She breathes heavily, feeling violated and rocked. Her heart pounds out a flatline in her chest. Her eyes sting, but she won’t cry. Her daddy taught her better than that. Take no shit.
Only Brian’s words have dragged her down, replanted her feet firmly in reality, rudely ripped away everything she was hoping for.
She’ll never outrun Mort’s Alabama. That girl making bad decisions. Foolish choices. Trusting everyone but herself.
No. She can’t do this again. She can’t mess up, and she can’t have everything. She can’t have Griff. She has to back off from the possibility of them.
Even though it’s the last thing she wants.
“Where are you?”
“We’re in bumfuck nowhere, Freddie,” Griff says as he leans back against the kitchen sink to watch the scenery zip by. Cows, fields, churches. “Where on the goddamn green earth would you like us to be?”
“And tonight?”
“The Cowtail Saloon. Savannah.”
“Very good.” He hears her nod over the phone. “A test, Griff. To make sure you stay on the straight and narrow. Believe me, I don’t like these weekly check-in sessions. They are a pain in my ass just as much as yours.”
Automatically, he reaches for the flask he keeps in the breakfast nook but stops himself. Getting blitzed ain’t on the agenda today.