Real Sexy (Real Dirty Duet #2)(5)

With a smug look, Brandy picks at her nails. "Good thing it's none of your business anymore."

The thought of the Fishbowl being closed for good tugs at my heart, but there's nothing I can do now. I need to let it go. But how?

"Good luck. You're going to need it." I turn to Hope. "Let's go."

As I follow her out of the bar, a feeling of finality settles in my bones and tears sting my eyes.

I'm sorry I couldn't do better, Mama.

I pause in the doorway and take one last look behind me. I memorize the smell, the feel, the pictures of the stars on the walls, and tuck it all deep inside me.

The best and worst moments of my life happened here, and I'm no longer welcome. The thought burns, and I suck in a breath and bite my lip.

I'm not saying good-bye, Mama, because you're not here anymore. It's just a building.

When I step outside, the sense of loss threatens to overwhelm me.

Once we're in the truck, Hope fires up the engine. "You going to be okay?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Instead of putting the truck in gear, Hope looks over at me. "For what it's worth, I think you made the right decision. Your mom would want more for you than to be trapped in that bar under your dad's thumb. It's time for you to figure out what you want, Ripley. The world's a lot bigger than those four walls."

"I know." And I do. Hope is speaking the truth, but I haven't exactly had time to cope with the huge changes in my life, let alone a chance to figure out what I want.

Hope pulls out of the parking lot and points the truck in the direction of her apartment. "What now?"

"Maybe-" My phone vibrates, interrupting me. Law's name pops up on the screen.

Why would he be calling?

"You gonna answer that?"

I look at Hope as I pick up the call. "Hello?"

"You still with that guy? The one from last night?" Law's voice is hurried and tense. 

"What are you talking about?"

"The country singer. Boone Thrasher. Are you really with him?"

"What does it matter, Law?" It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him there's no chance we're ever getting back together, but he keeps talking.

"I got called into work to do some research for a partner tonight. A criminal law partner that represents Boone Thrasher."

Dread curls in my belly. "What kind of research?"

"Assault and battery. That's what he got arrested for. You really want to date a woman beater, Rip?"





4





Boone





It's been a long time since I had my ass shoved in a cell. Back then, I paced the floor, pissed off that I was stupid enough to get caught drinking with my buddies in a building set for demolition the next day, but glad that they'd gotten away, even if I hadn't.

My dad didn't speak for most of the ride after he bailed me out a few hours later, but when we got home, he parked the truck in the drive and turned to me.

"I'm thinking you already know you don't want to be spending any more nights in jail."

Somehow his quiet question made the shame more acute than a tirade would have. "No, sir."

"Then use your head, Boone. The Lord has bigger plans for you than this, so don't prove him wrong."

"Yes, sir."

"Apologize to your mama when you get inside. She's been worried sick about you."

"Yes, sir." Guilt flooded me next.

After I tromped into the house and apologized to Ma, that was the end of it. My parents never spoke of it again. Never took me to task. Somehow, they knew that the ass-ripping I was giving myself was worse than any they could deliver. They were right, as my folks usually are.

As I lean up against the cool concrete wall of this cell, my hat pulled down low, all I can think about is how deep this is gonna cut Ma when she hears it. She'll know it's not true because I'd never hit a woman, but some people in our small town won't be so kind about it.

She's been a target more than once because of my antics, and that's part of the reason I've tried to clean up my act.

I can imagine those catty women whispering about it behind her back. She'll say she doesn't care, but I still hate that I put her in this position, especially over something I clearly didn't do.

This is so insane, I'm still reeling from the charges.

It isn't the first time someone has accused me of something, thinking I would be an easy target more likely to pay them off than create a big stink that could affect my reputation, but those people don't know me.

I've shown up at more than one person's house or apartment, asking them to explain how some of the stuff they've accused me of could have happened. I always make sure it's recorded too, just so I have something to show the cops. Turns out that a lot of people who think they're going to get rich quick off me don't have the balls to lie to my face. I'm hoping like hell this is going to be the same kind of situation.