“I don’t know, he’s so pissed he won’t hear anything I say for weeks,” I tell her honestly. “But I would rather him blame me for everything than be angry at you.”
“Charlotte will take my side and help calm Roman down,” Tessa says confidently. “Just be patient with him. He may need some space.”
“Oh, I have no doubt he’ll need space,” I agree, motioning for the waitress to refill my drink. “He’ll probably need at least a thousand miles between us.”
“A thousand miles?” Tessa repeats.
“I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me,” I say with a grin. “You just take care of yourself, sweetheart.”
Tessa
* * *
I didn’t like the way Verek said that, for me to take care of myself, like he’s not going to be around once we get back to town.
Roman is going to be furious at him, I’m sure, but everything will eventually get worked out between them. Right?
I don’t have time to ask him. As soon as we eat, we get back on the road and ride all the way to Sneads Ferry.
The motorcycle is growing on me, especially the part where I get to wrap my arms around Verek. It’s impossible to do so without thinking about earlier.
Was it really just this morning when I was getting him off in the shower?
It seems like a lifetime ago after sleeping for hours and riding again. At least it hasn’t made things weird between us. If anything, I feel closer to Verek which is silly and stupid.
As soon as we get back to town, he’ll probably go back to sleeping with a different woman every night from the club.
I’ve just gotten up enough courage to finally give in and touch him. I wish he could be patient with me, but that may be too much to ask of this playboy biker. Unlike killing these men which was quick, waiting for me to fix what they broke is going to take time. Most likely a lot of it.
All too soon we’re in the next town, parked a half a block away from the pawn shop in an old Main Street–style shopping center with several small mom-and-pop stores. There are only a few cars parked parallel in front of one or two stores, so either it’s a slow time of day or they don’t get much business through here.
“Are you sure this is it?” I ask Verek when he kills the engine.
“It’s the only pawn shop in town according to the notes Reece sent to Roman.”
When he climbs off the bike, I ask, “Wait. What are you doing?”
“I need to figure out when they close. I’ll go inside and look around, pick out something to pretend I’m interested in, and then say I need to think about it. That’s the perfect excuse to find out when they close today.”
“Are you sure? There could be cameras.”
“Probably, but there’s no reason for anyone to be suspicious of me. I’m just a shopper. Maybe I’ll even buy something when I’m there.”
“If you think that’s safe,” I reply. “Should I just wait here?”
“Yes, with your helmet on,” Verek says. His cut is in the saddle bag with our other things, and he is a pretty nondescript man – tall, lean with wide shoulders and arms, short bronze hair. Glancing around, I see a sporting goods shop just a few stores down on the strip.
“What about grabbing a baseball hat just in case,” I ask him. “You know, to shield some of your face in case of cameras.”
“Okay. I can do that,” he says when he spots the same store. “Good thinking, sweetheart. I’ll head in there and then to the pawn shop. Sit tight.”
“Good luck,” I whisper as he walks away.
Chapter Eleven
Verek
* * *
I pull my new, plain black baseball cap down low right before I walk up to the front of the pawn shop.
The sign in the dusty window lists the hours Monday through Friday as being open from 10:00 until 9:00 p.m., but I still plan to ask just to be sure.
As I step through the door, a cow bell rings above me, announcing my presence. I hope that means they prefer the good ole days and haven’t upped their security. How much crime could a small town like this really have?
“Can I help ya?” a man in his late twenties or early thirties with a dark brown mullet and a potbelly hanging over his saggy jeans says when he comes out from the back and stands behind a row of glass display cases. There’s a large, fresh yellow stain on his faded green T-shirt that must be food. Knowing this nasty asshole was likely one of the men who raped Tessa makes me want to slam his face into the glass. I refrain, clenching my fists by my sides before I try to stick with the plan.
“Do you have any nice jewelry? I’m looking to get my mother something for her birthday next week,” I lie as I approach the cases.
“We’ve got a few necklaces and watches,” he says while narrowing his eyes at me. “Where you from? I haven’t seen you around town before.”
“I’m just passing through, on my way north from a quick trip to Myrtle Beach, and decided to stop for some gas in town,” I tell him.
“Oh.” His pale blue eyes gleam like he just found a lottery ticket. He thinks I’m a sucker who will buy his worthless shit and pay twice what it’s worth.
“How much is that watch with the diamonds,” I ask, pointing to the feminine one on the end.
“Let me check the price.” He pulls out a set of keys to unlock the cabinet. He reaches for the watch and then quickly tugs off the tag that was on it. “This one is two thousand,” he says, placing it down on the counter and shoving the price tag into his pocket with the keys like I didn’t see his sleight of hand. If I had to bet, the watch is probably a fake and only worth about twenty dollars.
Still, I pick it up to examine it, turning it this way and that.
“It’s a nice one, but that’s a big price tag,” I tell him when I put it back down. “Let me think about it while I grab a bite to eat. How long will you be here tonight?” I ask.
“I’ll be open until nine,” he says when he places the watch back into the cabinet. “Since you’re a tourist just passing through, I guess I could probably let it go for fifteen hundred.”
“That’s a great deal,” I say, going along with his bullshit. “Still need to think about it and hit up the bank.”
“Right. Sure. I get it,” he says with an attitude. “It’s not in your price range. Just say so, buddy.”
Before I lose my temper with him in here, I turn around and say, “See ya,” then push through the door, glad to be out of there and getting back to Tessa. I know she doesn’t like being left alone, especially in an unfamiliar place even in broad daylight.
“So?” Tessa asks. “How did it go?”
“Well, I have no idea if he’s one of them or not, but he’s definitely a dick,” I mutter. “He’s probably twenty-nine as Reece’s research said. Do you remember a guy with a mullet? I don’t remember seeing one when you all did the sketches.”
“Yes!” she says without hesitation. “There was a mullet! I forgot about it until you mentioned it since I was so focused on their faces for the sketch artist.”