Ren smiled. “Yeah, she’s yours.”
We practically dressed alike. Ripped jeans, boots, and usually a tank top or T-shirt. At least I had the good sense to keep my clothes on.
I reached over the table and grabbed his wadded-up shirt. “Put this on.”
“Why? Are you ashamed of your daddy?”
“No. But I don’t want you to catch pneumonia.”
He snatched the shirt from my hand and reluctantly put it on, knowing I would only further embarrass him if he argued with me. In some ways, I mothered him. But Crush needed it. He’d spent his entire life taking care of me, and now it was my turn. Maybe I gave him a little hell, but paybacks were a bitch. This was still the same man who brought his buddies and a bunch of air horns to my sixth-grade spelling bee.
“So what do you think of Crush’s dog?” I asked the small group.
Tank chuckled from his spot on top of the table. “We were taking bets on whether he’s a horse or a dog.”
I patted Harley. “He’s a good watchdog,” I put out there, knowing Crush would never admit Harley’s true function.
Crush cleared his throat. “Yeah, he keeps an eye on my garage when I’m busy working. Makes sure to keep out all the riffraff. Don’tcha, boy?”
Harley leaned into him and cleaned Crush’s neck with his tongue. My father wrapped his arm around him, and they looked like old pals.
“I think he’s a good dog,” Ren declared, and that was all it took to put his pack in line. Those who belonged to neighboring packs respected him enough not to be a jerk.
I was glad for it. Not only glad that I wouldn’t have to worry about someone creeping up on my dad’s property at night, but also glad that Crush had a companion. One he could talk to, look after, and who would keep him company whenever he felt lonely.
I lifted the dog’s goggles off the table. “Daddy, are these really necessary?”
He took them away from me. “Just wait until you see the leather jacket I ordered.”
“Goodbye.” I turned on my heel, but before I could take a step, Crush gripped my wrist and yanked me backward.
“Hold on, little girl. You don’t walk away from your daddy without a hug.”
Crush tried to show off by lifting me off the ground. I squirmed like a fish, afraid he would throw out his back. Laughter erupted from behind him.
When I realized Crush wasn’t letting go, I asked, “Does he have a little doggie seat belt too?”
Crush dropped me on my feet and glowered.
I kissed his cheek. “Stop pretending like you could ever be mad at me.”
When I walked off, I heard him boast, “That’s my girl. Did you know she single-handedly took down that fighting ring?”
I rolled my eyes, realizing that man couldn’t keep anything secret, let alone tell it straight.
After closing my tab, I left Skulls in the best of moods.
On the drive home, I took my preferred route along side streets and scenic roads. The intoxicating smells and sounds of summertime stole my thoughts. The crickets and frogs sang in harmony the farther away I got from the city. My hair snaked out the breezy open window, and I leaned into the wind, the headlights shining a path down the dark road.
I jerked my head up when a man appeared in front of my truck. I slammed my foot on the brakes, my body lurching forward before coming to an abrupt stop.
Houdini’s hands were in his coat pockets, the collar pulled up. The headlights made his hair appear exceptionally white, and he looked more like an apparition than my nemesis. From his spiky hair, black ear studs, and jeans, he seemed desperate to avoid looking like an aristocrat who might have once worn a white wig and breeches. Or maybe a top hat and cane.
I shut off the engine but kept the lights on. Houdini remained motionless, his hazel eyes never breaking contact. His gaze was unnerving—the way his dark eyebrows sloped down, his blank expression.
I got out and searched the dark woods. “What are you doing out here?”
“Taking a walk on a moonlit night.”
