Gypsy King (Tin Gypsy, #1)(59)

But I didn’t say a word as Dad marched out the door.

“Guess this meeting is over.” Leo hopped down from the bench as Dad rode away from the garage. He jerked his chin up at Bryce as he walked backward toward his bike. “Change your mind about that ride—”

“I’ll call Dash.”

Leo looked between us, realization dawning, then laughed. “Ah. Good luck, brother.”

Emmett followed him out, waving as he walked to his bike. “I’ll keep an ear open.”

“Do that,” I said. “Have a good weekend.”

“I will.” He grinned. “Think I might need another coffee.”

When the noise from their bikes was gone and the garage was quiet, I turned to Bryce.

“He threatened me.”

“Yes, he did.”

She lifted her chin. “Will you take his side?”

My immediate response was yes. I’d always support Dad and he’d made it clear where he stood. But if it came down to that, to hurting her, I knew the answer was no. “No. But it doesn’t matter because you’re not going to bother the daughter. You’re more compassionate than that.”

“We have to talk to the daughter,” she said immediately. “Maybe the boyfriend is nothing, but it’s the only new information we have.”

“Dad has a point. She just lost her mother. If she’s living in Denver, the chances that she even knows her mom’s weekend hookup are small anyway. It’s not worth stirring up a bunch of hurt.”

“Even if it means your dad spends the rest of his life in prison? Do you still think he’s innocent after threatening to cut. Off. My. Hands?”

I raked a hand through my hair. “He wouldn’t do it.” Maybe he would have years ago, but not now. “He’s just trying to scare you. And yes, he’s innocent. If he wants to spend his life in prison for a murder he didn’t commit, then I guess that’s the reality of the situation.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

No, it didn’t. Why won’t Dad fight? What is he hiding?

Draven Slater’s secrets were going to land him in the state penitentiary for the rest of his life. Son of a bitch. I clenched my teeth, resisting the urge to pick up a wrench and throw it across the shop. Why was he backing down? That wasn’t like him.

And why should I fight for his freedom when he wasn’t fighting himself?

“Don’t know what to do here, babe,” I confessed, shaking my head. “I’m pissed, for sure. But Dad’s right. I honestly don’t think the daughter is going to give us any information. And I’m at a dead end until Dad decides how hard he wants to push. All I can do is respect my father’s wishes while defending him because I know he’s innocent. What would you do if it was your father?”

“I don’t know.” Bryce’s anger vanished. Her voice softened. She crossed the room and put her delicate hand on my arm. “We both want the truth, but I have a story. I can print exactly what happens with his trial. With his conviction. We both know it will come down to that. And I can accept that he’s the killer. That justice is served. I can accept that as the truth. Can you?”

“He’s my dad,” I whispered. “It’s his choice.”

“Okay. Then I guess we’re done here.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

She dropped her hand and stepped away. “See you around, King.”

“Take care, Bryce.” My heart twisted. I was losing on both sides. Emmett had gotten one thing right: she was more than just under my skin. She was in there. Deeper than I wanted to admit to myself.

Her heels clipped on the floor as she made her way outside. But before disappearing, she paused and looked over her shoulder. “How about dinner, one last time?”

One last time.

“I’ll bring the beer.”





Chapter Sixteen





Bryce





Sitting alone at my kitchen island, I picked at my chicken salad sandwich.

Two weeks had gone by since the meeting in the garage and my last night with Dash. Dinners since had been eaten in this spot so I could watch out the front kitchen window, hoping to hear the thunder of his motorcycle before it pulled up to my curb.

I missed having an uninvited dinner guest. More and more each day, I missed Dash, and not only for the sex. I missed talking to him and hearing his voice. I missed the easy way he moved around my house. I even missed the snoring.

But I hadn’t heard a word from him. Our final parting had been, well . . . final.

My foolish heart had hoped I’d left a lasting impression. One that would make him yearn to see me again—the way I yearned. Clearly the sex I’d thought unforgettable was actually the opposite.

He’d probably found a new replacement at The Betsy to keep himself company. An easy feat for Dash Slater, finding a woman willing to take him to her bed. Sometimes all it takes is hello. The thought of him saying those words to another woman made my stomach roll.

I tossed down my sandwich, most of it uneaten. I hadn’t had much of an appetite over the last week. The gnawing feeling that I was quitting on Amina Daylee’s story had frayed my nerves.

How could Draven not want to find Amina’s killer? How could Dash be okay leaving a lead unfollowed? Especially given how strongly he believed his father was innocent.