Page 15 of Link (Dragon Riders MC 1)
“Good to know.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Just good to know. I enjoy learning about you.”
“Will I ever learn something about you?”
“What do you want to know?”
She paused. “You said you’ve lived here your entire life, right?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“Are your bars a family business, then?”
“Of course.”
“Do you work with your parents at all?”
“Not that kind of family.”
“Oh?”
“Yep.”
“So, you work with another family?”
I grinned. “I work with men I consider my family. They’re my brothers, and we work well together. Despite how hotheaded some of them can get.”
Her eyes narrowed softly. “So, Sly is like a brother to you.”
I nodded. “Yep.”
It made me wonder if she was putting two and two together in her head. And I figured she was. I mean, she wasn't an idiot. She was a criminal prosecutor for crying out loud.
Divert. Make it about her again. Don’t lose her.
“Have you made good connections with the police department here yet?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yep.”
“Are things going well at work, then? Bringing in money? All that jazz?”
“Yes, technically.”
“Technically?”
She sighed. “Well, there’s still student loans I’m paying down. Hell, I’ll be paying those things down for years to come. Plus, there’s some credit card debt I’ve got from college. You know, just to help me survive and all that. I had scholarships, but law school and everything that comes with it is expensive as hell. It took me long enough to pay down my debt to where a business loan was manageable. But between all of my bills? It doesn't leave me much money to do anything with.”
“That must be frustrating.”
She sighed. “It’s the price for a good education and a great start in life. I’ve been fortunate, despite my pitfalls.”
“What kinds of pitfalls?”
“Oh, you know. An unsupportive family. A father that left when I was young. A mother who’s certifiably insane. Things like that.”
“I’m sorry, Joanna.”
Her eyes fell to her lap. “Me, too, some days.”
I leaned forward. “Look at me.”
Her eyes slowly rose. “What’s up?”
“Your debt has been paid.”
Her eye twitched. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
I saw her struggling with that, and I wondered what rushed through her head. There was so much I wanted to know about her. So much I wanted to explore. Like, why she had such a hard time accepting my words. Or why she felt she had to pay me back. I wanted to know what happened to her family. To her father, and her mother. I wanted to know about her dreams and how she saw her life ten, twenty, and even thirty years from now. I wanted to know everything there was to know about this woman. What made her tick. What made her smile. What made her sad, and what upset her.
She can’t leave. Not yet.
“Are you sure that’s all I have to do?” she asked.
I leaned back. “I mean you can stay here, and we can keep talking. That’s certainly fine with me. But I’m not going to hold you up if you have somewhere else you need to be. Or would rather be.”
She shook her head. “No, no, no. I’m done for the day. I mean there’s always work to be done when you own your own business.”
“Boy, can I attest to that.”
She smiled. “But it’s not urgent work. It’ll be there tomorrow for me to do.”
“Isn’t it always?”
She laughed. “It’s never-ending, but we wouldn't have it any other way.”
I grinned. “Not at all.”
She crossed her leg over her knee. “What happened to your family?”
“Getting right to the point, huh?”
“I’m an attorney. What can I say?”
I chuckled. “Fair enough. Uh, well, they’re dead.”
She went slack-jawed. “My God. I’m so—I shouldn't have—Link, I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. Honestly? In their situations? Death was better than the alternative. My father and I were close before he got strung out on drugs. He lost his job, couldn't find work. Sank into this depression that just ate him alive, you know?”
Her eyes studied me intently, and I felt as if she were truly listening to me.
And I liked that.
“That must’ve been hard for you,” she said.
I drew in a deep breath. “For a while, yeah. We used to do so much together. Working on cars, taking weekend adventures, exploring all of the wooded areas before more homes got built. I’ve got good memories with him before he turned to drugs as a coping mechanism.”
“When did he pass away?”
“Uh… three years ago? No, four. Four years ago. Mom passed away three years ago.”
“Jesus.”
“Honestly? It was the best thing. My father was miserable, and the drugs robbed him of any quality of life he might have had. And it worked out, because Mom was so riddled with Alzheimer’s that she didn’t even know who we were burying that day. So, in a way, Dad was always the strong, laughing, smiling man she knew. When she could remember him, of course.”
