Junkyard Dog(16)

“No. There’s always some family with kittens for sale for ten bucks.”

“I’d rather get a shelter cat. Adopting one from a kill shelter will feed my savior complex. I’ll feel like a humanitarian for doing nearly nothing.”

“Aiming low is why you’re a happy person.”

“Where are we going to lunch and are you paying? I’d be super happy if you let me get appetizers and dessert so that I can take home leftovers.”

“Your dreams are now too f*cking low.”

“Is that a ‘yes’ with regards to you paying?”

“Yeah, I’ll pay so you can burrow away old food like a f*cking squirrel.”

I smile at him and reach over to fix his flannel shirt cover. Hayes stiffens when I touch him, and my smile grows wider.

“I knew you were trouble the moment you walked into my office,” he says.

Leaning against the door, I stare out the window and think about the first day we met. I was ready for a raging beast and likely built him up too much in my head. The real Hayes disappointed. He wasn’t nearly as scary as I imagined and a hell of a lot easier on the eyes.

After seeing him with his dad in that too small house, I can’t help wondering what else Hayes hides from people.

“Stop thinking,” he grunts while pulling the truck into a steak house parking lot. “I can feel you plotting.”

“I’m not doing anything, boss.”

Hayes frowns at me, but he isn’t in a bad mood. With his nearly black eyes, he convinces people he’s always pissed. I’ve figured out how to tell the various shades of grumpy in his dark gaze.

Hayes knows the restaurant staff, and I wonder if he partially owns the place. I still don’t know just how many local businesses he has a piece of. He might trust me with his dad, but not his house or finances.

“Can we get the potato skins?” I ask while checking my phone.

“We’re not on a date.”

“Are you sure? You did open the door for me, and you’re paying. I also feel like I might be expected to put out at the end.”

Hayes closes his eyes and rubs his head. I immediately laugh at his effort to play the harried victim of my mouth.

“Whenever you wish I would shut the f*ck up,” I say, grinning, “just know that’s how everyone feels when you talk.”

Hayes smiles at me. “You f*cking refuse to zip your f*cking mouth.”

“Why should I? If you really don’t want me to talk, I could play on my phone during lunch, but I sense you want to bond.”

“You sense that, huh?”

“You’re giving off a vibe.”

Smirking, Hayes nods. “Women are an odd bunch.”

“I’m only one woman, boss. Just the one broad. I’d think the son of an accountant would be better with numbers.”

Hayes grins again. “You’d think, wouldn’t you?”

“So, how did you gain control of White Horse?”

“I took it,” Hayes says without missing a beat. “When I saw a weakness, I exploited it. When I saw a threat, I eliminated it. No one gave me shit. I had to take it all.”

“But how? I mean you can’t just walk into a business and threaten them into giving you half. Well, I guess you could, but I don’t think that’s how you did it.”

Hayes shrugs as if he doesn’t want to brag. I roll my eyes at his bullshit, and he finally gives in.

“I had a small inheritance from an uncle. Mom suggested I use it to travel. Dad wanted me to go to school. Back then, White Horse was failing, and businesses were leaving. People needed a vision, so I took the inheritance money and bought partnerships with several businesses. I made those businesses healthy while using my power to bully other businesses into working with me and doing things my way. I looked for uses for the local empty land and abandoned buildings to lure new businesses into White Horse. The more new blood into the town, the more my businesses flourished.”

“You’re pretty f*cking smart, eh?”

Hayes adjusts his large frame in the circular booth. “Yeah, but lots of guys are smart. I was willing to break bones to get things done where other guys just wanted to talk or bribe their ways into power. Everyone has a button that can be pushed. With some people, they can’t be bought or charmed into obeying. They only understand pain and fear.”

“You’re pretty f*cking scary, eh?”

“I’ve heard, yeah,” he says in a voice reeking of pride.

“The outfit in Common Bend has backers from out of town. The bikers run Hickory Creek. You do it alone.”

“If you mean I outsource much of my muscle, yeah. I don’t trust anyone. People are stupid and selfish.”

“Don’t you have anyone who will watch your back?”

“Are you fishing for a compliment?”

“No way do I want to watch your back. It’s too big, and I’m easily distracted. Don’t you have anyone you consider a friend? Does it really have to be so lonely at the top?”

“I had someone. When he got nailed for a murder charge in Nashville, he could have lowered his sentence by turning on me. He had the info to sell, and the cops were always willing to plea someone down for info that’d increase their conviction count. Moot could’ve made life easier for himself, but he didn’t sell me out. He’ll be out in a year, and I plan to reward the f*ck out of him.”