Rose glared. First, Declan, now Brad. She just couldn’t catch a break.
Brad slouched in the aisle, hand in the pockets of his jeans. “Wait. You’re not the same guy, are you? You get around, Rose.”
Declan glanced at him and looked back to her. “Who is he?”
“Nobody,” Rose ground out, looking at Brad. “Are you following me now?”
“I saw your friend from across the street and couldn’t help myself.”
They’d had run-ins before, but he’d never followed up like this. For one, she knew where to find him—he still lived in his trailer in the Edge, where she was the strongest. For another, she never rose to the bait. But now he’d met William, decided he was easy pickings, and wandered over to harass him. Except Declan wasn’t William.
“Piss off, Brad!” Latoya called from her table.
“Shut the fuck up, Mophead, before I come over there and make you swallow your teeth.”
Declan’s green eyes fixed on Rose. Brad couldn’t see his face, but she could. It was merciless and so iced over it was nearly cruel. “This is Brad?”
Rose was too mad to answer.
“Do you want to keep talking to him?” Declan asked.
“No.”
The blueblood rose. “Excuse me for a moment.” He nodded to Brad. “Let’s go chat.”
Brad pulled his hands out of his pockets. “I’m always up for a chat.”
They left the Burger King, heading to the left, Declan moving in unhurried strides and Brad ambling to the right of him. Rose stared after them, stunned. Now what?
At the counter Juniper waved her thin arms. “Rose, drive-through window! Come on!”
Rose jumped up and ran behind the counter, following Juniper to the back, Latoya at her heels. She ducked between the fryer and the wall and ran into a patch of freshly mopped tile.
“Careful, wet, wet!” Juniper yelled.
Rose’s feet slid on the floor. She crashed into some boxes and scrambled to the window. The two men stood in back, past the drive-through lane. Juniper flipped the switch, and Rose heard Declan’s voice, distorted by static.
“You want to talk, now’s a good time,” Declan said.
“Fu—”
The punch was so quick, Rose barely saw it. Brad stumbled back, clutching at his gut, shook his head, and lunged at Declan. “Sonova—”
Declan’s fist caught him in the left side with a solid crunch. Brad stumbled to the side, wincing.
“Ouch,” Latoya squeaked.
Brad whipped about. “I’ll—”
Declan rammed his fist into Brad’s solar plexus. Brad bent over. Spit dripped from his mouth in a long sticky strand. He clenched and vomited a gush of foamy liquid onto the asphalt.
“Eww. In my goddamn parking lot, too.” Juniper skewed her face.
“That last one hurt a bit,” Declan said. “Take it easy. You have time.”
Brad made some hoarse noises and stumbled a few steps, still bent over. About ten seconds later, he finally straightened and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Ready?” Declan asked.
Brad raised his fists. “Motherfu—”
The punch took him off his feet. He curled on the ground, cradling his gut.
Declan leaned over him. “Done?”
Brad nodded, his face twisted.
“Okay. Anytime you want to speak to Rose, you let me know and we’ll do this again. Understand?”
Brad nodded again.
Declan rose and headed to the entrance.
Rose ran back in a mad dash, sliding on the slick floor. By the time Declan reached the door, she was barring the doorway. “Let’s go out for some fresh air.”
“As you wish.”
Brad chose that moment to stagger out from behind the Burger King, holding a cell phone to his ear. At the sight of them, his eyes went wide and he ducked behind the building.
A moment of vicious satisfaction claimed her, but Rose had no time to savor it. She grabbed Declan’s arm and pulled him down the narrow sidewalk, away from Brad before he saw him and decided to finish what he started. “What are you doing?”
“Walking with you.”
“You can’t just come in and destroy my life!” She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. He was trying to help, and he’d done a lot for her. “I’ve known Brad for years. He has done people a lot of favors, the kind one doesn’t forget. What happened between us happened long ago, and he was punished for it already. You just started a new war. He’ll be gunning to get at me now.”
“He’s most welcome to try it,” Declan said with a grim finality that promised painful things in Brad’s future.
“You just don’t understand. Just like with Amy’s roof.”
“What about Amy’s roof?”
It’s not that he was stupid. Quite the opposite: Declan was probably one of the smartest men she’d ever met. He simply had no idea how life worked in a small Edger town. It probably made no sense to someone not born here.
She stopped and met his gaze. “Declan, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I don’t need you to fight my battles. It would be wonderful if life was simple and your beating up Brad solved all my problems, but in reality, it will only bring me more trouble. Thank you, but please go away.”
Declan’s eyes studied her. “Very well, my lady.”
He turned and walked off.
Rose watched him go and headed back to the restaurant. Brad’s humiliation would come back to haunt her. She knew it would, but it was so worth it. She recalled him crawling on the asphalt and practically skipped.
Latoya thrust the Burger King’s door open. “Your new boyfriend is a psycho killer!”
“No, he isn’t. And he’s not my—”
“I’m telling you he’s a Navy SEAL or something. Or one of the commando ranger guys. You know the kind who survive in the woods by eating bugs and take down the whole camp of terrorists with a handgun and a small rock.”
Rose shook her head.
“And he’s a looker, too,” Teresa added. “Just like the other guy.”
Latoya’s eyes lit up. “What other guy?”
EMERSON’S voice ricocheted from the walls of his small office, filling Rose’s head with ringing. “You think you can just miss the morning, and I won’t know about it?”
Rose held her temper in check and faced Emerson. A slight man of average height, he was balding and doe- eyed. Emerson came from an old local family. His grandfather sold insurance, his father had expanded the business, his younger brother still ran it, but Emerson had failed to make his mark. He was arrogant, condescending, and lost his temper easily, which made him a terrible salesman. When people bought insurance, they wanted to be reassured, and the only thing Emerson reassured them of was his own inflated ego.
He had called in a snarling rage about two hours after they left Burger King and demanded Latoya bring her back to his office at the end of the shift. Apparently so he could cause permanent damage to her hearing.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
“There was some trouble at Amy Haire’s house . . .”
“I don’t give a fuck.” He stared at her for a long moment, his nostrils flaring. “I’m not paying you for this week.”
“Emerson!”
“What? Are you going to tell me it’s illegal and I can’t do it? Well, guess what. I just did.”
