Page 6 of Cash’s Trouble

A reluctant smile touches her mouth, then disappears when I step away. I want to put it back there with mine, but I force myself toward the hall.

“My room is two doors down. If you need anything, come get me.”

“What if what I need is for you to finish that?”

My whole body tightens. “Then you should get some sleep before I forget every good reason I have for leaving.”

I walk out while I still can. Behind me, the room stays quiet, but I can feel her watching until I turn the corner. The sheriff’s second instruction was impossible before he ever drove through our gates. Now it’s the only one I can think about breaking.

CHAPTER 3

LILLY-ROSE

Iwake to motorcycles starting beyond the guest-room window and the memory of Cash’s mouth on mine. Engines roll through the compound while last night returns in far too much detail: his hand at my neck, his body between my knees and the moment he stopped even though I asked him not to. I slept badly afterward, half listening for another vehicle at the gates and half wondering whether two doors were enough to stop me from walking into his room. Morning hasn’t improved my judgment.

The overnight bag Dad brought last night sits open on the dresser. I shower, dress in clean jeans and a soft green top, then step into a compound already in motion. Armed brothers change places near the gate, motorcycles idle outside the garage and Kane speaks with Tank. Nobody looks like a secret saint. These are dangerous men living behind steel gates, carrying guns without apology and trusting one another more than they trust anybody outside their walls. I have no idea why I find that concept comforting, but somehow I do.

Cash stands inside the garage talking to Judge. His black cut hangs over a fitted T-shirt, and the sight of him sends a slow pull through my stomach before he even looks at me. When he does, his gaze lands briefly on my mouth.

Cash comes toward me but stops outside touching distance. “Coffee’s inside. Your father will be here in ten minutes.”

The deliberate space between us irritates me more than it should. “Did he call?”

“Yeah, he called Kane. He’s bringing an update.”

Cash turns toward the clubhouse, leaving me to follow. At the bar, he pours coffee and adds milk without asking before sliding the mug across the counter.

“How do you know how I take it?”

“You stop at the diner most mornings.”

“You’ve been monitoring my coffee?”

“I pay attention.” His fingers rest an inch from mine, the deliberate distance more irritating after where those hands were last night.

Before I can answer, the gates open and Dad drives through alone. He’s still wearing yesterday’s uniform, though the shirt is creased and dark stubble shadows his jaw. The sheriff gets out carrying a slim folder and looks toward every man in the yard before his attention reaches me.

He checks my wrist and face in a single sweep. “How are you?”

“Fine. The bruising looks worse than it feels.”

His gaze shifts to Cash behind the bar, then returns to me for half a second. I don’t know whether kissing leaves guilt visible, but my father has interviewed liars for most of his adult life.

“Somewhere private,” he says.

Kane leads us into church. The long table, patched up chairs and painted club emblem make the room feel nothing like a police interview room, but the men settle around it with the same quiet authority. Judge takes the chair beside Kane. Dad sits opposite them, while Cash remains close enough to me that the edge of his cut brushes my arm when he moves.

The sheriff opens the folder. “Doran has worked for Wade before, it seems. Collections, intimidation, witnesses changing statements. Wade accessed every case I reopened after King died and has been asking where Lilly-Rose is. I contacted a state investigator directly.”

“Can you arrest him?”

“Not yet. I have patterns, not proof he ordered the grab. If I move too soon, he destroys what he’s hiding.”

Kane folds his arms. “So she stays.”

“Another day, maybe two. My house is known, and this is the one place he can’t enter quietly. Lilly-Rose has become his desperate plan. He knows I’m closing in and he’ll do anything to make me stop.”

“I’m all right here,” I tell him.