An engine revved from a pickup turning the corner.
A “woo-hoo” rang into the night a millisecond before something crashed through the window. I cried out and jumped back as glass rained down at my feet. Another crash sent me scurrying back. Then another. Something grazed my leg as I jumped back again. I hit a hard chest.
Teller gripped my shoulders and hauled me to the side, behind the protection of the door. He spun me around, held me at arm’s length, and searched my body. “Are you all right? Did it hit you?”
I shook my head. My heart beat in my throat, a rapid thump that made it hard to speak. “N-no. I don’t th-think so.”
He dashed toward the door as the roar of the engine grew fainter.
Once again, glass covered the floor and there were gaping holes in the front windows. Three bricks rested among the shards. Someone had thrown them at my bar.
Just once, I wanted something in my life to go right. And if it went wrong, I didn’t want Teller Bailey to witness it.
CHAPTER SIX
Teller
I sprinted outside in time to see a dark pickup with a dented rear fender fishtail around the corner.
“Fuck!” I raced inside.
Madison stared at the mess, her hands pressed to both sides of her head. Her eyes glistened. An angry red painted her cheeks. Her gaze jerked to mine and she trembled as she drew herself together, sucked in a deep breath, and puffed it back out. “I’ll get a broom.”
She stomped away, her shoulders drawn and her head down. I wish I’d gotten a plate number, but no such luck.
As I surveyed the damage, my heart sank. Two panes of glass had three large holes, and shards covered the floor. The third was untouched, but since they were all old, all three would likely have to be replaced to fit together and look decent.
Goddammit, she didn’t have the budget for that.
I went to the broom closet by the bathrooms. As I got closer, her sniffles became audible.
I cleared my throat. She didn’t want me to see her cry and I’d give her that. “We should call the police.”
“No.”
“Mad—”
“They won’t do a damn thing but blame me.” Her voice echoed loud from inside. “They’ll ask what I did to piss someone off. They’ll insinuate I asked for it.”
Dammit, she was probably right. The history in this bar was too strong, and the police hadn’t witnessed her devastated reaction or the way she was trying to hide how much it bothered her. “Hey, uh, I can call Tate and he can bring a couple of sheets of plywood?—”
“No, it’s fine. I can get some.”
“Do you have a woodpile at your place, or is that getting sold with the house and property?” I hadn’t meant to sound so sarcastic, but when she spun out of the closet, her eyes sparking, I was grateful I could give her a target.
“It’s none of your?—”
I crossed to her and gripped her shoulders. “Like it or not,youare my business. I’m not willing to leave you alone. I’m calling Tate, and we’ll clean up until he gets here.”
Her wide eyes took me in. I didn’t let her go. It was all I could do not to hug her to me. Her fear, her despair, gutted me.
“It’s late and he has kids.” She gazed forlornly at the mess behind me.
Her consideration for my brother caught me off guard. Life had battered Madison but she was concerned about bothering someone else? I dropped my hands before she distracted herself by getting upset at me. “He won’t mind. I’d call Tenor, but he lives farther out of town, and Tate’s got nice wood.”
A giggle burst out of her. She put the back of her hand against her mouth. “Stop it,” she said against her skin.
Her emotions were all over, but I’d take manic giggles. “He’ll say his wood’s bigger than mine, but he’s lying.”
