Her whole body jerked, even her hand then it twisted on his shirt.
“No,” she answered, sliding straight into the pit of denial.
“Think.”
“What’s this about?”
“Take time, Feb. Think.”
“What’s this about, Alec?”
He pried her hand from his shirt but gave it alternate purchase, forcing his thumb into her palm and curling his fingers around her hand at the same time he flipped the note and showed her the back.
Her hand went to her mouth cupping it, what was left of the color in her face draining clean away. He watched her sway and he used his hand in hers to push her back and down, forcing her into the chair. He let her hand go and put his to her neck, shoving her head between her knees.
“Breathe deep.”
He listened to her suck in breath.
Colt crouched in front of her, keeping his hand at her neck.
After a while he asked, “You with me?”
She nodded and put pressure against his hand, lifting up just a little, her neck arching so she could look at him, her elbows going to her knees.
He kept his hand where it was.
“He killed her for me,” she said, her voice hollow.
Colt shook his head. “You didn’t ask him to kill her. He did it because he’s not right in the head.”
“We made up,” she whispered. “Angie and me. It wasn’t the same but we made up. We danced to Buster Poindexter’s “Hot, Hot, Hot” at prom. You were there. Angie and me started the conga line.”
He was there. He remembered that conga line. He remembered sitting in the back with Jason Templeton who was then a freshman at Notre Dame, both of them watching it and laughing their asses off. He remembered thinking he’d feel stupid, a sophomore at Purdue, coming home, taking his senior girlfriend to her prom. But he didn’t feel stupid.
She’d had a blast. Feb always knew how to have a good time and Colt loved it when she did. He remembered the conga line flowing by their table and Feb had grinned at him at the same time she sang the words to the song at the top of her lungs. Then she twisted her neck and looked back at Angie who had her hands on Feb’s waist. They’d laughed in each other’s faces and then Feb, in the lead, always the one who started the party, wound the conga line away.
“I didn’t want her dead, even back then, when we were fighting—”
“I know that.”
She stared him in the eye for a brief moment before dropping her head. “I can’t believe this.”
“Feb, think.” Colt brought the matter back to hand. “Anyone back then who took an interest in you, made you feel funny? Anyone that’s still around now?”
She kept her head lowered and shook it, her long hair sliding across his hand, more of it falling forward around her face.
Christ, there was so much of it, he’d never seen so much hair, he’d never felt anything as soft.
He took his hand from her neck and she lifted her head. She looked at his fallen hand before her eyes found his. They were soft and lost for a moment, telling him only he could make her feel found and he almost touched her again, put his hand back where she needed it, before she straightened, ripping that look away from him.
He wanted it back, so much he felt that weight shift in his gut and the flash of anger at her for taking it away, keeping him out. Fuck, even now she wouldn’t let him in.
He bit his lip, something he knew he did to control his anger. He had his father and mother in him, straight to his bones, and he held close to that control. He had to. Both of them could be ugly and violent, with words, with fists. Colt had it too. It came out twice without control, twice he’d nearly killed someone with his fists—one was his own father, the other Feb’s husband.
“No,” she answered. “No one.”
“February—”
“I’ll think, Alec. I’ll think about it. I need some time. But I promise, I’ll think and I’ll let you know.”
She was looking at him again, straight in the eye. She wasn’t lying. She’d think. But right now this was too much…for anyone. Most people would lose it just from finding Angie’s body. Feb was holding on.
His anger dissolved. It was no longer his place but he was proud of her.
“You’ve got my number?”
Those dents came back at her eyebrows and that lost look came back into her eyes before she masked it.
“Morrie’s got it.”
Colt straightened and dug in the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet. He pulled out a business card and handed it to her, flipping the wallet closed and shoving it back.
She stood, his card held in both hands by thumb and forefinger at both bottom edges, her head bent studying the print.
“I want you to have a care. Keep your cell on you all the time, keep it charged. Let people know where you’re going and when you get there. Don’t ever be alone. You feel something you don’t like, see someone who makes you feel wrong, it doesn’t matter they’re innocent, you tell me, Feb.” Her head came up and she looked at him. “Doesn’t hurt them for me to ask a few questions, dig around.” He watched her suck in her cheeks and he knew she was hesitating, Jack and Jackie’s daughter, through and through. “This is serious. This is murder, Feb. This is about Angie.”
She closed her eyes tight and looked away but not before he saw them get bright. Then she took in a breath and opened her eyes, the brightness gone. She’d locked onto her control. Looking back at him, she nodded.
Colt had one more piece of unpleasant business to deliver and he hated it, but he did it.
“Tomorrow, first thing, you need to write a list.”
“A list?”
“Anyone who wronged you. Anyone you felt slighted by—”
“Alec—”
“Anyone someone not in the know might think did you harm or upset you.”
Her eyes went bright again and her bottom lip quivered. “Alec—”
He hated to see her lip move like that, knowing her throat burned with the effort at fighting back the tears. But he had to be relentless, lives were at stake. “If this is about you, we need to lock it down.”
“People are gonna—”
“Freak.” Colt nodded. “But better they freak and stay breathin’ than—”
“They’ll hate me,” she whispered.
“They won’t. But if they do, they’re stupid. This isn’t about you. This is about a sick fuck who’s out of his mind. They blame you, you’re better off without them.”
“Easy for you to say, people like you.”
“People like you.”
Something in her face shifted. He couldn’t read it, it was there and gone. But whatever it was, it made that weight in his gut feel even heavier.
“Feb, I’ve no idea what this fuckin’ guy is thinking, but I’ve gotta—”
She lifted her hand and waved it between them, the movement desperate. “I’ll write a list.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say, that’s my girl.
He didn’t say it.
It was then the full realization dawned that this business was going to take its toll. On Feb, on him, likely on Morrie and undoubtedly on Jack and Jackie who, as soon as they heard what was going on, would be back. They were probably already on their way.
And the toll to be paid was not just because of Angie’s murder and Feb’s admirer, but because Colt and Feb had no choice but to be wound together again after years of being unraveled.
“Can I go back to the bar now?” she asked.
Colt nodded.
“You wanna talk to Morrie?”
Her question struck him like a blow, she knew him so well. And a thought he hadn’t contemplated, hadn’t allowed himself to contemplate for two years, came into his head.
How in the fuck could this woman who was laced into the fibers of his life be so fucking removed?
Colt nodded again.
Feb lifted her chin and without another word walked out the do
or.
When he lost sight of her, Colt’s neck twisted and he bit his lip.
It was either that or tear the fucking office apart.
For You is available now in print, eBook and audio.
####
About the Author
Kristen Ashley grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana but has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus she has been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.
Kristen was raised in a house with a large and multi-generational family. They lived on a very small farm in a small town in the heartland and existed amongst the strains of Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).
Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.
And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.
*****
Discover other titles by Kristen Ashley:
Rock Chick Series:
Rock Chick
Rock Chick Rescue
Rock Chick Redemption
Rock Chick Renegade
Rock Chick Revenge
Rock Chick Reckoning
Rock Chick Regret
Rock Chick Revolution
The ‘Burg Series:
For You
At Peace
Golden Trail
Games of the Heart
The Promise
Hold On
The Chaos Series:
Own the Wind
Fire Inside
Ride Steady
Walk Through Fire
The Colorado Mountain Series:
The Gamble
Sweet Dreams
Lady Luck
Breathe
Jagged
Kaleidoscope
Bounty
Dream Man Series:
Mystery Man
Wild Man
Law Man
Motorcycle Man
The Fantasyland Series:
Wildest Dreams
The Golden Dynasty
Fantastical
Broken Dove
The Magdalene Series:
The Will
Soaring
The Three Series:
Until the Sun Falls from the Sky
With Everything I Am
Wild and Free
The Unfinished Hero Series:
Knight
Creed
Raid
Deacon
Sebring
Other Titles by Kristen Ashley:
Fairytale Come Alive
Heaven and Hell
Lacybourne Manor
Lucky Stars
Mathilda, SuperWitch
Penmort Castle
Play It Safe
Sommersgate House
Three Wishes
Connect with Kristen Online:
Official Website: www.kristenashley.net
Kristen’s Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/kristenashleybooks
Follow Kristen on Twitter: KristenAshley68
Discover Kristen’s Pins on Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/kashley0155
Follow Kristen on Instagram: KristenAshleyBooks
Need support for your Kit Crack Addiction?
Join the Kristen Ashley Addict’s Support Group on Goodreads
Cover Art by: PixelMischiefDesign.com
Bounty Page 60
