Gypsy King (Tin Gypsy, #1)(67)

“An intervention?” I laughed. “Good luck with that. You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”

From my brief encounter with Presley at the garage, I imagined she was the type who’d make up her own mind. Telling her no would probably work about as well as it did on me.

Dash and I didn’t speak as we finished our meals. Since we’d come in and ordered, neither of us had spoken about what had happened at Draven’s house. But with every bite swallowed, it was coming. What had happened couldn’t be ignored forever.

With rumpled and grease-stained napkins tossed over the few remaining french fries on our plates, Dash’s gaze met mine. “So . . .”

“So. Want to talk about it?”

He ran a hand over the stubble of his jaw. “Can’t believe he’d do that to Mom. She was amazing. This carefree, loving woman. She didn’t deserve a cheating husband. God, I hope she never knew. That she died thinking he was faithful.”

“Can I ask how she died?”

“She was killed outside the house.” He leaned his elbows on the table, speaking in a low voice full of pain. “We found her, me and Nick.”

My hand came to my sternum. It was unimaginable. Heartbreaking. I wanted to hold Dash, but for now, I settled for a whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Nick was sixteen and had a car. I begged him to give me a ride home from school that day so I didn’t have to ride the bus. He was pissed because there was this girl he was chasing and she wanted him to drive her around. But he took me home instead. He always put me first, our family first. Even as a teenager. We got home and saw Mom lying on her side on the sidewalk. She’d been gardening, wearing the gloves I bought her for Mother’s Day.”

I put my hand over Dash’s, holding tight.

He turned his over, threading his fingers with mine. “There was another club in Montana who’d been causing the Gypsies some trouble. They were called the Travelers. Dad and the club had plenty of petty beefs with them over the years, but it had been nothing too serious. Nothing dangerous. Then Dad and the club got aggressive about expanding. They took on more drug routes to up the club’s income, even poached some from other clubs. The Travelers didn’t like losing and made some threats. Dad dismissed them, not taking them seriously. Until they took it further.”

“They came after your mom.”

He nodded. “Drove up to our home. Shot her in the back of the head while she was planting yellow flowers. You couldn’t even recognize her face. The bullet just tore through her.”

My hand tightened around his and I closed my eyes. The cheeseburger wasn’t sitting well, not when I imagined myself in Dash’s shoes. Finding your mother’s dead body was a horror no child should have to see.

“Dash, I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.” He stayed quiet for a few minutes, his eyes on the table. Even when the bartender came by to take our plates and refill our waters, he didn’t move. He just held my hand until it was the two of us alone. “Dad and the Gypsies killed all of their members. Every last one.”

I opened my mouth to respond but I didn’t have the words. It was hard to fathom that kind of murder and violence. Hard to see Dash in that life. And at the same time, I was glad he, Nick and even Draven, had gotten their vengeance. It wasn’t black and white, this world he’d pulled me into. There wasn’t a clear-cut line between right and wrong, not like I’d believed before.

He looked up from the table and adjusted his grip on my hand, wrapping it up completely. “We aren’t good men, Bryce.”

“Maybe. But you’re a good man to me.”

“You sure about that? I got you thrown in jail. Haven’t always treated you right. Yelled at you tonight.”

I locked my eyes with his. “I’m sure.”

Dash loved the people in his life. He was loyal and kind. He enjoyed pushing my buttons, but he’d never once pushed too hard. When he had crossed a line, they’d all been forgivable acts. And an apology hadn’t been long to follow.

Even the whole jail thing.

Because had our roles been reversed, I probably would have done the same to him. I wouldn’t admit it anytime soon, but I’d pardoned him for it all.

After paying the check, Dash and I made our way out into the dark night.

“Where to?” I asked as we walked to my car.

“Mind if I crash at your place?”

I fished the keys from my purse. “I’m punching you in the ribs if you snore.”

He chuckled. “I don’t snore.”





My alarm blared me awake at four in the morning. I scurried to shut it off and not wake Dash.

The man was sprawled on his stomach, his face turned away from me. But his hand was on the small of my back. His thumb moved, rubbing a tiny circle. “It’s early.”

“I have to go to the paper and make sure everything gets out for delivery,” I said, sliding out of bed.

Dad was probably already at the newspaper, bright-eyed and smiling. I was anxious to join him. Sunday and Wednesday mornings were the two days I didn’t want to linger in bed.

Though today, with Dash here, I was tempted.

I took an efficient shower and swiped on the minimum makeup to hide the dark circles under my eyes. Staying up past midnight on a Saturday wasn’t something I’d normally do. But last night had been an exception. To a lot of things.