Chirp(67)

As much as she hated the thought of him being with other women, she needed to get over it. He didn’t love her and never would. At least he hadn’t lied about that. He’d made it crystal clear there was only one thing he wanted. She couldn’t blame him. She’d thrown herself at him. A more than willing victim.

But now it was time for a new beginning. No more Rance Keller. No more Chirp.





Rance


Rance wanted to get shit-faced and forget about what he’d done, but liquor wouldn’t solve anything. When he sobered up, he’d still be the one who’d allowed Chirp’s wicked stepmother to find her. The question now—what to do about it? Marry her?

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal. A quick trip to Vegas. And once she turned twenty-one, she could divorce him. It’d be perfectly acceptable. The rich girl finally came to her senses and realized she’d had a lapse in judgment concerning a bad boy. Plenty of uppity girls slummed.

Why had the PI even mentioned marriage? Why was he waiting two days to report? He’d said he didn’t like his client, but he was risking a lot. If the woman found out he’d given Chirp time to disappear again, he’d lose his fee. Something wasn’t right about that guy. It was almost like he had a conscience.

Rance knocked back his second shot, then called it a night. He’d go home and fix this mess. Besides, he’d promised to take care of her—keep her safe. And he always kept his word.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he got home. Chirp’s car was still there. Not that she’d leave before he got back. She knew he’d need time to wrap his brain around the situation and come up with a plan. Besides, she had forty-eight hours before anything happened. Unless Fraser had lied, which was possible, but Rance believed the guy.

He got out and took the porch in three steps, then yanked open the door. “Chirp!”

No answer. His heart kicked up a notch. Hurrying down the hall, he called again. Still no response. He rushed to the closet in the master suite. Her things—gone. He checked the bathroom. Toothbrush, makeup, every personal item—cleared out. Dammit. He hurried to his truck and peeled out toward Hanna’s.

She was closing up the shop as he pulled into the drive. “Hey! Chirp here?”

Hanna turned to look at him, and he didn’t like her expression. She’d been crying. “What’s wrong? You and Seth have a fight?”

“No. Blaze is gone. Took my car.” She reached inside her pocket and pulled out the paper. “She left this for you.”

Rance grabbed the note, unfolded it, and stared down at the single sheet of paper.

Tell Hanna everything. Give her my car. Even trade.

Blaze

She couldn’t have said, “Fuck you” better if she’d spelled it out. Not even a, “Goodbye. I’ll call. Thanks for everything.”

“Where’d she go?”

Hanna shook her head. “I don’t know. Not sure she had a plan. What’s going on, Rance? She wouldn’t explain anything.”

He folded the note and stuck it in his pocket along with the PI’s card from earlier and began the story, leaving out how it was his fault they’d found her and how he could have saved her. When he finished, Hanna placed her palm to her throat. “Montgomery Steel. Seth’s job. She did that for him. For us.” She fisted her hand and pounded Rance’s chest. “Why did you leave? You should have known she’d panic.”

“I didn’t expect her to do anything without talking to me. Dammit to hell. How long?”

“Over an hour. You’ll never catch up to her. Besides, we don’t know which direction she went. Go home, Rance. She promised she’d call to let me know she was okay. When she does, I’ll try to find out where she is.”

He climbed into the truck, but Hanna wasn’t finished because she followed and leaned against the fender. “She made a joke about marriage. What was that about?”

He ran his hand over his face. “The guy said if she was married, her stepmother wouldn’t be a threat.”

“Damn you, Rance. Why didn’t you offer to marry her?”

“If it came to that, I would have. We could have worked this out. I could have protected her. Tell her that when she calls.”

“Yeah. Like it’ll make a difference now.” Hanna turned and stomped into the house.

When Rance returned home, he decided getting drunk was a good idea, so he broke out the whiskey. He lumbered to the deck, plopped onto the lounge chair, and turned up the bottle. He had a buzz within fifteen minutes. Hell, he had plenty of reasons to get plastered. He took another long pull and felt the burn.

Letting Chirp stay had been his first mistake. He should have kicked her ass out the morning after he arrived. Going to that fucking banquet. Seeing her in that dress. Hating how that boy touched her. Damn. Another drink and he’d feel better.

The mother lode of all regrets was going to the reward website. But if she’d been honest with him . . . No. This wasn’t all his fault. Running away proved nothing. He slugged another gulp. Jack Daniel’s might not fix everything, but it could sure as hell get him through the night.



“Rance! Wake up!”

The voice came from far away, and Rance tried to open his eyes but only squinted. God, it was dark. And wet. Where the hell was he?