Dirty Love (Dirty Girl Duet #2)(14)

“Is that her?” There’s no ignoring my demand.

Banner picks up the phone. “I have no idea who it is.”

“Check it.”

She raises both eyebrows to her hairline. “You bossing me around is going to get you nowhere.” Still, she unlocks her phone and checks the text message. She tries to keep her expression neutral, but I read more in it.

“It’s her.” My words aren’t a question.

Banner nods. “Give me one good reason why I should tell you where she is.”

I don’t hesitate. “I love her.”

She studies my face for several moments before holding out the phone. I reach for it, but she pulls it back before I can grab it. “If you f*ck her over again, I will cut off your balls with a rusty knife. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

Banner drops the phone in my hand, and I read the text before forwarding both it and the number to my own phone. Then I delete both texts without the slightest hint of remorse. Banner doesn’t need to alert Greer to any of this.

I lock the phone and hand it back to her. “Thank you.”

I’m pushing open the door of the bar when I hear Banner’s screech of fury.





I’m in Logan’s truck at the four-way stop a couple hundred yards from Holly’s gran’s house.

“I wonder if he noticed I’m gone.”

“He’s a piss-poor security detail if he didn’t.” Logan’s tone takes on a judgmental note.

I look across the cab of the truck at him. “You ever been security detail?”

He shrugs. “For some people who pissed off Uncle Sam, on occasion.” He’s mentioned his military service, so his answer isn’t a surprise.

“Do you miss it?”

I ask the question to take my mind off the reentry I’m about to attempt. Nerves multiply in the pit of my stomach, and I’m doubly glad I stuck to my soda water and lime. Not only do I not need another hangover, I need to have my wits about me when I confront Troy German.

Logan rolls through the four-way stop and keeps the speed of the truck down as we approach the little house with the black SUV out front.

“I miss the brotherhood. Feeling like I was part of something bigger than myself. But sweatin’ my balls off in the desert and eatin’ sand? No. Don’t miss that.”

As we slow in front of the house, I ask, “How are we going to do this?”

“Not much you can do but tell him the truth.”

A grumble rises up from my throat. “Awesome. Great plan.”

Gravel crunches beneath the tires as Logan pulls the truck into the yard next to the SUV. Troy throws his door open before we even come to a complete stop. Logan’s windows are tinted, and with the help of the dark night, I hope I’m not visible yet.

Troy rounds the hood to knock on the driver’s side window, and Logan rolls it down. “You need to—”

Whatever he’s about to say dies when Logan turns on the interior lights and Troy sees me sitting in the passenger seat.

“Fuck.”

“She got bored. No one’s going to tell the boss unless you do, so you might as well let me walk the lady up to the front door and let her get some rest,” Logan drawls.

I, for one, think that sounds like an excellent idea, but who knows if straitlaced Troy is going to go for it. I hold my breath as I wait for his response.

“I’ve got relief coming in twenty minutes. She better get inside. I’ll tell him I just checked on her, so he won’t need to disturb her.”

My annoyance at being talked about like I’m not present is slightly mollified because he could be reaming me out, or worse—calling Creighton or Cannon, and then they’d ream me out. Somehow, in all of this, the men in my life have forgotten that I’m an adult, and I think tomorrow is the perfect time to remind them. I’m not spending another day cooped up in that house with no access to the outside world. I don’t care what Creighton or Cannon say, I’m done with this nonsense. I’m ready to go back to New York and piece my life back together.

“Sounds like a plan, man,” Logan says, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll walk her up to the house, and no one will be the wiser.”

“Who the hell are you anyway?” Suspicion enters Troy’s tone.

“Friend of the family. Mrs. Karas told me to keep an eye on her.”

Troy studies him closely as though he’s a human lie detector. Finally appeased, he steps back so Logan can open the door. Logan comes around to the passenger side and opens mine as well.

He holds up a set of keys as we make our way up the front walk. “I’m assuming you didn’t bring any with you.”

My gaze darts to the front door, and I realize just how poorly I planned this little outing. “Um. Yeah, nope. Thank you.”

Logan nods, explaining, “Holly has me come check on the place at least once a week.”

“You’re a nice guy, Logan Brantley.” I stop on the purple front porch and turn to face him. “Thank you for everything.”

His grin is quick and easy. “I ain’t that nice. Take care of yourself, Greer. Holler if you need anything. My number is on the pad by the phone inside.” After he unlocks the door, he gives me a quick hug and pushes me inside.