Okay, so there’s someone from a far more fucked-up family than even mine.
“Huh, that’s different,” Shay said. “Kidnapping a middle-aged mother to turn her into a prostitute or something seems tailor-made to bring down trouble on you, bounty hunter…or the law.”
“There’s something more here. Not sure what, but first things first. I wanted to know if you could watch her for a bit while I talk to some people about taking care of her.”
“Why me?” Shay asked.
She prayed her voice didn’t betray her thumping heart. Brownstone trusted her enough that he wanted her help, rather than the other way around. It shouldn’t have mattered so much, but she still liked it.
Brownstone grunted. “You showed up because you were pissed about a dog. I don’t think you’d sell out a little girl, and I know you know how to use a gun. My other first-line choices include two hardcore drunks.”
The explanation deflated Shay.
“So it was me or a drunk?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
Shay snickered. “You need better friends, Brownstone.”
“We all get the friends we deserve.”
“Yeah, don’t I know it, which is why my friends have tried to kill me,” Shay muttered under her breath before speaking up. “Whatever. Okay, sure, I’ll help, if it isn’t for too long. I’m not a babysitter. I’m a field archaeologist.”
What the fuck am I doing? Should I get Peyton involved? No, no. This is my shit. He needs to be insulated from it. I’m the one suddenly being a soft touch.
“Thanks,” Brownstone said. “Meet me at my place. You guys can stay there. I don’t think the Harriken will come sniffing around me directly for a while after my little demonstration.”
I need to turn this to my advantage somehow, otherwise Brownstone will think I’m his bitch.
“Okay, Brownstone, I’ll do this, but you owe me one.”
He ended the call.
Shay rubbed her temples. “What the hell am I doing?”
After Shay knocked on Brownstone’s door, she crossed her arms and started tapping her foot. Everything about this was idiotic. She couldn’t figure out what weird hold Brownstone had over her that kept making her want to help him.
If she weren’t already in the Harriken’s sights for showing up at their house the night of the massacre, helping Brownstone protect one of their targets would put her square in the crosshairs.
If the Harrken start digging, other people might show up.
Still, earning a little trust and a favor from the bounty hunter might be worth it. Plus, she suspected the local Harriken population would nosedive over the next few days.
The door finally opened, revealing the barbecue-loving bounty hunter. He wore his leather jacket on his body and a concerned look on his face.
Brownstone gestured her inside. “Alison’s on the couch.” He pulled a key out of his pocket. “No reason for you to go anywhere, but just in case.”
“Oh, giving me the key to your place already?” Shay winked.
Brownstone just stared at her until she shrugged and sighed. For a man who liked to talk a lot of shit, he could be boring at times.
“I’ll be back soon.” He headed out the door. “I know you don’t like spooky basements, but just so you know—the basement door is locked and sealed for a reason.”
Shay glanced that way. “Because it’s your Red Room of Pain?”
“It’s booby-trapped, too.” The bounty hunter shook his head and closed the door behind him.
“Well, at least it’s not fucking Inca zombies this time,” Shay muttered under her breath.
Or stupid naga.
She continued deeper into the house, taking in the carefully arranged furniture and neatly piled stacks of papers. She spotted Alison on the couch, her hands folded in her lap.
The girl looked up and offered her a smile. She tilted her head, staring at Shay without saying anything. The girl’s eyes seemed unfocused, and something about her expression unsettled Shay.
Trauma maybe, from dealing with an asshole dad. Shay could understand that. It wasn’t like she’d grown up with the best parents. They hadn’t tried to sell her to gangsters, though—she had to give them that.
The field archaeologist reached up and brushed at her cheek. “What? Something on my face?”
“No. I mean, maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“It’s just that you kind of remind me of Mr. Brownstone.”
“How?”
“A beautiful soul covered in a lot of pain.”
Shay blinked several times, completely unsure how to respond to that. “Okay. Thanks for that. Whatever that means.”
The girl rose and offered her hand. “I’m Alison, by the way. Alison Anderson.” Her smile disappeared. “Though I think I should get my last name changed. I don’t honestly know my mom’s maiden name. I’ll have to ask her once Mr. Brownstone gets her back.”
“Yeah, I heard about your old man and your mom. Tough break.” Shay shook the girl’s hand. “I’m Shay. I’m a work associate of Brownstone’s.”
“You’re a bounty hunter?” Disbelief colored Alison’s voice.
Shay shook her head. “No, I specialize in freelance archaeology.”
Alison’s face scrunched in confusion. “Why would an archaeologist need to work with a bounty hunter?”
“You’d be surprised.” Shay winked. “I’m kind of like a mix of Indiana Jones, Lara Croft, and Caleb Rodriguez.”
“I’ve seen a few of the Ancestor’s Quest movies, but I don’t know who Indiana Jones and Lara Croft are.”
Shay winced. It was the first time in her life she’d ever felt old, and she was only twenty-seven. Admittedly, she did have a predilection for the classic field archaeologist stories. They’d probably help inspire her second career choice along with her love of history.
“They are cooler than Caleb Rodriguez,” she said. “I mean, he always uses so many drones and robots. It’s just not the same as running from a boulder, watching Nazis melt, or punching sharks.”
Alison shrugged. “If you say so.”
Innocence clung to the girl in a way that almost turned Shay’s stomach. Shay had been around Alison’s age when she’d slid into a world of suffering and darkness. Maybe Brownstone could save the girl from a similar fate.
Shay returned her attention to the house. She ran her finger along
