No Perfect Hero(56)

I’m restless while I wait for the cops.

When the patrol units show up, I brief them on my rights as a bounty hunter to make a citizen’s arrest, notify them of his outstanding warrants and judgments in Kootenai County, and shove the wriggling, still-swearing bundle of Roshank into their arms.

I’m back to my truck in seconds. That bust was almost too easy. I didn’t even need my gun. Hours of driving and a week of surveillance, all for it to be over with a quick tackle.

Just means I’m not too tired to make the drive back tonight.

I try not to question what feels so urgent as I head back to my own hotel, pack up, check out, and hit the road. I could’ve stayed, gotten a solid night’s sleep, and then gone back in the morning.

No one’s really waiting for me in Heart’s Edge. I just have business there.

What if Haley’s waiting for you, asshole?

What if she’s watching for you to come back?

The questions keep coming, and I wonder.

One flaming hot kiss doesn’t change the fact she’s been hurt bad. She’s still pretty raw, and I’m not exactly winning brownie points when the two of us are like fire and ice, clashing and burning and freezing, making a mess that’ll just destroy us both.

Doesn't stop me from pressing down on the gas pedal a little harder, devouring the miles back to my hometown faster.

I get to watch the sunrise coming up over the mountains as I hit those more familiar interstate roads that tell me I’m almost home. But I’m not expecting my phone to start ringing in my bag.

Weird. People only call me on business, and at this time of morning?

I can’t get to it fast enough, not driving one-handed, so I pull over for a minute to fish it out of my duffel bag before putting it on speaker and cruising forward again while my voicemail dials in.

Then I nearly crash the damn truck into a road sign.

Tara’s little voice comes rushing over the line, playing back in urgent, upset little words.

“Warren?” She sounds so scared, so lost, and my heart jolts with a prickle of fear that makes the hair on my forearms stand up. My fingers clench the wheel tighter. “Everything’s all wrong now. I...I wish you were here. I’m scared, I haven’t seen Auntie Hay, and...she’s usually home by now, and he’s here. When are you coming back? Will you be home soon?”

Fuck.

Any bubble of warmth at hearing that sweet girl call Heart’s Edge home is completely eclipsed by the sudden churning knots in my gut.

He’s here. What had she meant? Who?

And why wasn’t Haley home from her shift yet?

I've got one good guess.

Bress. Dennis fucking Bress must've realized I’m getting attached to her and decided she’d make good leverage.

If he’s done anything to her, I’ll...

I don’t even know.

I can’t trust myself right now. Can’t put anything past him, though. Can't put anything past me if I find her hurt thanks to my shit.

Right now, it's her safety I'm scared for.

After what he did to Jenna, disposing of Haley probably wouldn’t even ping on his moral compass. My hands hurt, palms grinding against the steering wheel, and it hits me that I’m going twenty over the speed limit, my eyes locked on the road. A hot mix of rage, endorphins, and relentless biting terror makes my shoulders tremble with the tension rushing through me.

I don’t have time to care about cops or speed traps. Not when Hay might be a fucking hostage, or worse.

Dead.

Dead like your sister.

And I barely glance in the rear-view mirror before I slam my foot down on the accelerator, sending my truck leaping forward, synced with the beat of my racing pulse.

It’s a tense twenty minutes as I cover the last miles to Heart’s Edge with morning breaking over the sky, too bright for my black and dire mood. Dust clouds stream behind my tires as I rip around the last bend toward Charming Inn and the cottages.

Haley’s Mustang is nowhere in sight when I pull in the back lane and vault out of the truck.

But there’s another car I don’t recognize, a newer Chrysler in slick black – what we used to call city cars when I was a kid. The kind of thing nobody in Heart’s Edge would drive when it would probably drop the transmission in a heartbeat on the roads around here.

I don’t trust that car.

It’s not Bress’, at least, but fuck.

I nearly jump out of my own skin as the front door of the duplex bursts open.

Tara flies out, still in her pajamas, and flings herself against my leg. “Warren!”

“Hey. Hey, munchkin.” I try to keep my voice gentle for her when she’s clearly upset, her eyes damp, her voice ragged, and she’s trembling as she clings to me. I grip her shoulders and squeeze gently, as if that can stop her from sensing my worry. “What happened? Where’s Hay? Did he hurt her?”

She shakes her head quickly and buries her face in my stomach. “N-no. No, but he was gross, and I didn’t like him.”

“Who's he?” My voice almost cracks. “Tara, who? Where'd he take Hay?”

“Stupid buttface Eddy,” she mumbles against my stomach. “I don’t like him. And they went to breakfast without me, and Auntie Hay made me stay here. I should’ve gone with them so I could kick him.”