Page 8 of Violent Little Thing

Instead, a black-haired man sat there with his elegant suit flashing dollar signs at me.

“Apollo.”

Six months ago, Apollo had come to me with an offer.

Get out of prison and hide.

For the rest of my life.

But live free, where the cages of the walls of my life didn’t strangle me.

I’d accepted, but only because I knew that if I didn’t, I was going to die in prison.

The Cottonwoods, Lauri’s family, had made it a point to make the last four years of my life miserable.

I got jumped. I got stabbed. I got beaten to hell.

You name it, and the Cottonwoods tried to have it done to me.

Needless to say, if I stayed, I’d die.

And despite all the evidence to the contrary, I didn’t want to die.

I wanted to live.

If only to spite everyone who wanted me dead.

“Since I didn’t have to break you out of prison,” he mused. “I was wondering if you’d still want to go to Montana.”

I didn’t give it any thought. “Do I get to keep the name change?”

“You do, if you want it.” He shrugged. “You can keep it all. All you have to do is say yes.”

One

You’d be amazed at how many times I’ve fucked around without finding a single thing out.

—Court’s secret thoughts

Court

I saw her the moment she entered through the door.

She looked like some badass doll dressed in boots and a bad attitude.

“Who’s that?” I asked my friends.

We were at The Mercantile, a jack-of-all-trades store in the middle of Sawtooth, Montana, that sold tampons, guns, prescription drugs, and deli sandwiches.

Literally, if you couldn’t find it at The Mercantile at twice the market value, then you were boned. The closest Walmart was an hour away, and by the time you factored in the price of gasoline to get you there, you could’ve just stayed here and overpaid.

“Oh, boy.”

I looked over at Beau, who was staring at the door and the woman, like he knew something bad was about to happen.

“What?” I asked.

“Get ready.” Beau leaned back in his chair, clearly amused.