Leaving Amarillo(51)

I nudge him gently in the side as we make our way to the front door. “Well, Clyde, I always knew we’d end up here someday.”

His shoulders stiffen but then he winks at me. “You’re not bad company to have, Bonnie. I’m almost glad you came along.”

Bailing someone out of jail is a lot more complicated than it sounds. And when it’s someone who truly doesn’t deserve the time and effort involved, it’s that much more frustrating.

I think I always assumed you walked up to a teller’s window like at the bank and handed over your money in exchange for the inmate of your choosing. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Katrina with a K and Garrison with two R’s,” Gavin tells the lady in the uniform at the front desk. “She was picked up the day before yesterday.”

“Charge?” The woman says without glancing up from the computer.

“Solicitation, I think. I’m not entirely sure of the specifics,” Gavin mutters.

Sliding my fingers between his, I give his hand a squeeze. He doesn’t return it, but he doesn’t pull away, either.

The raven-haired middle-aged woman with a pixie cut taps away on the keyboard for several minutes before letting out a low sound that reminds me of one my Nana used to make. I’m pretty sure it’s the equivalent of her calling Gavin’s mom a two-bit hussy. Which she is, but still . . . this is her son standing here.

With an overly exaggerated sigh, she rubs her eyes before giving us an exasperated look as if she’s bored with our presence already. Her impassive gaze meets Gavin’s and I can see the pity and the slight disgust in it. I have no doubt that he can, too.

“There are several charges against her,” she tells us. “She solicited a police officer, Mr. . . .”

“Garrison,” Gavin supplies. “She’s my mother.”

The woman cringes and I want to slap her. What is it, her first day? Even I can manage to contain my feelings better than she is.

“Well, I’m sure your mother would love to see you, but unfortunately visiting hours are on Sunday only.”

“I’m not here to visit. I’m here to bail her out,” Gavin snaps.

Tugging gently on his hand, I pull him back enough for him to take a breath.

“Ma’am,” I say, leaning over the desk a little. “We’ve driven a really long way and we have to turn around and get back to Austin as soon as possible. If we need to contact a bondsman or whatever, we’d need to do that as soon as possible.”

“It’s ten grand to get her out today, but honestly, her court date is Monday morning. I can see that she’s had warrants out before for failing to appear. If I were you, I’d leave her here.” She shrugs and the movement tremors through Gavin’s body as if she punched him in the chest.

Ten grand. Holy hell.

“Well you’re not me.” Gavin’s eyes are blazing. “And I’m here, and she’s going home. You got a bondsman you can recommend?”

The woman shakes her head as if Gavin is too stupid to waste any more time on. “Here,” she says, handing him a business card with plain black print on it. “Good luck, kid.”

“Gav?” I tilt my head indicating I need a quick sidebar. “A moment, please?”

We step over to a plain gray seating area and Gavin turns his phone over and over in his hand while waiting for me to make my case. I’m rooting for the wrong team this time and I don’t know how he’s going to react.

“Look, it’s none of my business, but I mean, it’s three more nights. I think she’ll be okay.”

His eyes harden against my imploring gaze, turning to granite and effectively shutting me out. “You’re right. It’s none of your business.”

His anger thumps me hard in the chest. Okay then. I take a deep breath and speak as calmly as I can. I’ve watched enough courtroom dramas on television to know he’s risking an awful lot for someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Fine. But just so you know, if you do get a bondsman to post bail and then she doesn’t show in court, you’ll be the one paying that money back. Good luck with that.”

I turn on my heel intending to leave the stubborn jackass on his own to deal with his mama drama but he stops me in my tracks. Not by grabbing me—or even reaching for me—but with his words.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Especially not after you rode all this way with me.”

And after what we did mere hours ago, I think to myself. Turning back to him, I take a deep breath and ask him a question I’ve wondered about for half my life.

“Why do you do this to yourself? No, wait. Why do you let her do this to you?”

She’s never made him a priority. At least not in the years I’ve known him. And yet, he would move hell and earth to help her.

“It’s complicated.” He gives me a halfhearted shrug. “She had a rough childhood—one that makes mine look like a trip to Disney World. Closed-in spaces . . . they just . . . They really upset her. And I . . . I owe her this. Okay?”

I swallow the emotions threatening to cut this conversation short. “Okay . . . Well, maybe she should see someone about that. Like a therapist. But Gavin, none of that is your fault and she’s not your responsibility. You don’t owe her shit.”