“How much?” she demanded. What Rhonda was doing—had done—risked everything Taryn had built.
This time the number was higher. Had Rhonda negotiated a better deal because she wasn’t as addicted a month ago? Taryn would never know.
“Why?” How had she failed to help Rhonda?
Rhonda shrugged.
Taryn knew she wouldn’t get anything more from her. “Oh, Rhonda. What am I going to do with you? I can’t let you stay here.” Saying those words nearly broke Taryn.
That statement made an impact on the other woman. She sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes widened. Rhonda’s voice was barely audible when she asked, “What are you going to do with me?”
“I don’t know.” The absolute truth. This had never happened before. No one had ever refused the rescue, and no one had betrayed her like this. When women decided that working at the bar wasn’t for them, Taryn helped them find their calling and wished them well.
What was she supposed to do now? Kick Rhonda back onto the street? Her stomach churned at the wrongness of that thought.
Taryn couldn’t let her go. Rhonda knew too much now and had shown a willingness to sell whatever secrets she could. But she couldn’t stay here, either. Taryn could never trust her again. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t. The old Jack had an easy solve—he’d make the problem go away permanently.
“You can’t stay here,” Taryn said gently. More gently than the other woman deserved.
“Why?” Tears welled in her eyes.
Real or fake? Taryn felt for her, she did. But her betrayal was too big and cut too deep.
“If you’d come to me when you started using, I could have helped you. If you’d come to me when you needed money, I would’ve helped you then, too.” Taryn looked at her. “But you didn’t. You dug yourself into a pit that I can’t get you out of. People got hurt, kept getting hurt, because of you.”
“Just some courier,” Rhonda said with a smirk. “That wasn’t even my fault. It was the crazy Tremaine lady’s.”
Strictly speaking, Rhonda wasn’t wrong. Portia had run Dizzie over, but only after Tremaine Security had chased her from the bar.
That was beside the point. “Dizzie went on the run because you provided her location to the Tremaine Corporation.”
“If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone in the bar who saw them. Why shouldn’t I get the money?”
“That’s why you can’t stay. You’ve put everyone here at risk. That’s not okay.” Had Rhonda always been this self-involved? Or was it the drugs? Probably a combination, Taryn realized with a pang of sorrow.
She could save people from the streets, but she couldn’t save them from themselves.
Rhonda’s lost look was quickly replaced by a glare that would’ve killed Taryn had it been physical. “Fine, I don’t need you, bitch. I can make all the money I need from the secrets you’ve got here.”
Taryn pressed her lips together. Well, this had taken a turn for the worse. She hadn’t expected Rhonda to be a nasty addict.
Of course, she hadn’t expected her to be an addict at all.
Taryn picked up her phone. “Daryl, could you come in here, please?”
Fear flickered in Rhonda’s eyes until bravado replaced it. “You’re bluffing.”
Did Rhonda really think Taryn was playing games? She hadn’t maintained her position as the Jack by being nice. “No, I’m not.”
The door opened and Daryl filled the doorway. “Yes, ma’am?”
On the other side of the desk, Rhonda stiffened. This time, the fear in her eyes was permanent.
“Take Rhonda to the basement, please.” Taryn’s voice was cool, betraying none of the anger and regret that coursed through her.
To his credit, Daryl didn’t flinch.
Rhonda did. “The b-b-basement?”
