He was probably right, assuming Valentine didn’t “punish” her.
“Do you think we’ll make it out of this mess alive?”
“I know we will.” Byron seemed so confident, it almost made her feel better.
“And are you lying?”
He placed her palm on his chest so she could feel his heartbeat. Byron felt warm and solid, real.
“As God is my witness, I’m your knight in tarnished armor, and I’m gonna get you out of this alive.” His gaze held hers. “You believe me?”
“I don’t know why, but I do.”
Chapter Ten
I’ve got the whistle belly thumps and skull cramps.
The next morning, Byron felt like shit. After he and Jane had gotten drunker than a pair of skunks last night, he’d woken up with a raging headache, which made the road trip to True Love sheer torture.
They were seated in his Escalade. She hadn’t said much on the drive over. After he’d vowed to keep her alive, he’d bid her goodnight because he’d gotten a bit farther with Jane, and he hadn’t wanted to press his luck.
Byron normally had a thing for small towns, but True Love annoyed him. He’d grown up in Hell, did a lot of business in Crimson Creek. This town reminded Byron of the Andy Griffith Show—it was a real life version of Mayberry.
Well, not quite.
Maybe if the Andy Griffith Show had a down and dirty affair with the Love Boat, their offspring would be True Love, Texas. The town got its start as a tourist destination in the fifties, and it was popular with couples looking to do a wedding on the cheap.
Old brick buildings surrounded the town square, which enclosed a heart-shaped community garden filled with all red flowers. The local businesses had a love and hearts theme—Cupid Café, The Love Nest Motel, Tough Love Gym, and the Bless Your Heart Chapel, to name a few. Even the tile sidewalks had the occasional heart-shaped one thrown in.
Basically, Cupid threw up all over the place.
“Before we do anythin’ else, we gotta check in at the Love Letter.”
“The Love Letter?”
“It’s the name of the local paper.” He searched for an empty parking space, mindful of the traffic.
“Are you serious?”
“About which? The name or the paper?”
“Both, really. I thought most local papers went out of business.”
“Yeah, well, a lot about this town is backward.”
“And they named it The Love Letter?” Her lips twisted like she’d gotten a taste of something nasty.
“Believe me, I know. They take their local identity real serious. I can’t even imagine what news they report. The bake sale on Sunday? Maybe the school spelling bee winners? There’s probably a hot off the presses story about a kitten up a tree or some such.”
“This from the man who lives in Hell.” She shook her head.
“Hey, now! At least the name Hell and the themed businesses got some swagger and class. True Love sounds so….”
“Mushy?”
“Yeah, that’s a good term for it.” Byron pulled up outside the newspaper. The front of the big building had a newsprint sign with the name scrawled on the front. The “V” in love had been replaced with a heart.
Dear sweet Lord.
“Now, we’re in my world, darlin’. I can’t walk into another group’s territory without announcin’ myself unless you’d like more trouble.”
“Which group are we talking about?”
“The Broken Hearts Motorcycle Club. They run this town, and we got a history.” Over the years, he’d racked up some bad blood.
“Meaning they don’t like you.”
“Yeah, well, they gotta stand in line. I’ve been makin’ friends all over the place.” They got out, and Byron grabbed his Glock, before buttoning his jacket.
Time for a show.
Jane focused on the unsightly bulge beneath his coat. “And what do you intend to do when we get in there? Because I won’t be an accessory to murder, and I will testify against you.”
“Easy there.” Damn, he loved her pluck. “I’m gonna say howdy and let the folks know I mean no harm.”
“You normally use your gun as a greeting?”
“You’d be surprised.”
Her face was pinched. “Byron....”
“I find it makes an impression. If you go in hard and strong, folks won’t mess with you. Enough talk, let’s do this. Stand directly behind me, we’re goin’ in.”
Byron pushed open the front door. A man in his late twenties stood behind the counter. He had wheat-colored hair combed into a pompadour and wore a pair of Mad Men horn-rimmed glasses along with a brown herringbone suit.