Ripper (Hunter #1)(10)

I nodded because it was what she wanted me to do. She didn’t blame me for what happened ten years ago, but she was wrong if she thought I couldn’t blame myself. I wasn’t the only one. There were ghosts that damn sure blamed me, too. But I already had a plan for exorcising those demons, at least for a little while.

“I’m fine,” I assured her. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She reached out and gave me a quick hug. “Okay, Kels. I’m sorry if I got you into something you aren’t ready for. I was trying to help Helen. I really thought it would be good for you to work a case that meant something.”

I shrugged off the concern. The goal now was to get Liv out of the car. “Everything is fine. I need to get home and get some sleep. I’ll be ready to go in the morning.”

She stared at me, her hand on the door. “You’re going straight home?”

“Yes, Liv,” I said in my best “don’t mother me” voice.

She got out with a sympathetic smile.

Idiot believed me.





Chapter Three





“Wow,” I managed to slur once I pushed my head off the bar and downed my shot. “This is really good tequila. It’s so sweet and smooth.”

Gil looked at me over the bar and he frowned, but I didn’t really process it as disapproval. I was way too far gone.

“That’s because it’s apple juice,” he said with a shake of his bearded head. “I cut you off thirty minutes ago, sweetheart.”

“Seriously? Are you sure because I think this stuff is awesome.”

“I’m glad you like it, darling.” Gil hadn’t been thrilled when I walked in several hours before, but he’d done his job and gotten me nice and toasted.

I wasn’t even thinking about that * Darren or how guilty he’d made me feel. I was happy and really horny. I looked around the bar to see if there was anyone worth going home with. The River Bottom Pub was an out-of-the-way tavern in the bottoms along the Trinity River. It was a ludicrously crappy prefab building with a “backyard” filled with plastic tables and a place for horseshoe games. There were several subdivisions that had developed in the area and all the locals came here to forget their troubles. Unfortunately, most of their troubles had to do with wives and kids. I didn’t play around with wives and kids.

“I called your brother about ten minutes ago,” Gil said.

“Damn it, Gil. Why would you go and do that? I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need my brother to come and get me. I can find my own damn ride home.”

“With whom?” Gil asked, looking around because it was a Thursday night and it was after midnight. All but the most hardcore of drunks had gone home. It was a testament to how f*cked up I was that I was still here.

I glanced around the bar. At this hour there were exactly four men still in the bar, and none of them would be potential partners on a sober night. Then again, I tended to not get laid when I was sober so I figured sobriety was way overrated. I pointed to the least hygienically challenged of the four. “How about him?”

“Sweetie, he’s gay,” Gil said.

“Seriously?” The truth was my gaydar didn’t work after fourteen tequila shots.

“No,” Gil replied, shaking his long beard. “But the fact that you have to ask whether a fat ass guy with a tattoo of a naked chick on his forearm is gay or not is a testament to your inability to make proper choices.”

I laughed long and hard because it struck me as funny. I liked this place. It was nice. Oh, sure, it was followed by vomiting and a horrible headache, but for now it was a little like heaven. I was only thinking of pleasant things. I texted Liv and told her how much I loved her. If I’d had anyone else to call, I totally would have called them to express my love and appreciation, but I didn’t have phone numbers for my World of Warcraft guild. I would have called Crozier and told him to meet me at the tavern for a drink or two. Oh, he was a shaman in a MMORPG game, but he was the closest thing I had to a crush on an actual human being. He was a nice guy and not related to me, so I sort of fantasized about him. If he’d been there, I would have jumped all over that and I had zero idea what he looked like. My shot at getting a little something was low this evening.

“How about it, Gil?” The bartender was safe to flirt with. “I’ve been coming in here for almost a year. When are we going to stop fighting this attraction we have?”

Gil threw back his thickly bearded head and laughed. I was too drunk to be insulted so I joined him. “Darlin’, if I was thirty years younger you would still be too much woman for me to handle. I would take one look at you, think about how amazing the sex would be, and run the other way.”

“Is that your polite way of calling me a hot mess?” I played with the shot glass that apparently hadn’t held anything vaguely resembling liquor for a while. I needed to give apple juice another try. It was good. There was a little drop at the bottom of the glass and I licked the glass not wanting it to go to waste.

Gil shook his head. “Hot doesn’t begin to cover it.”

A good song came on the radio and I let Gil’s comment go, preferring to sway to the music. Then I decided swaying wasn’t a good idea and staying on my barstool was.

“Wow, that was fast.” Gil’s eyes stared past me toward the door. “I thought you were in Dallas.”