Later that night, I thought about calling Punc, but I didn’t trust myself not to fully open up about my problems. As much as I loved our earlier conversation since he said he was looking out for me - and seriously, he might be the first guy toevereven try to look out for me - something told me he would lose his mind if he heard about Frank Darren.
That kiss replayed in my mind. It would be so easy to fall for Punc, which was the last thing I needed right now. I didn’t want to be like Mom…looking the other way when the man in her life did questionable things or outright broke the law. Even though I knew Punc was a good guy, I had a feeling he had a way of skirting right and wrong.
Platinum’s didn’t close their doors until two in the morning, which meant Punc was probably working. I suspected some nights the Riot brothers didn’t leave until four or even five in the morning.
This wasn’t something he could help me with anyway. It was a ton of money, and since the Riot MC had supposedly gone legit and stopped doing illegal activities, no. I couldn’t ask Punc for help.
In the dark, I couldn’t sleep.
My mind raced from one bad thought to the next. What if Frank took the payment and still decided to do something to hurt me? What if he still followed Catalina after I’d paid?
Every bad scenario made my stomach churn. I leaned over and turned on a lamp. I took five long, deep, calming breaths.
Then I grabbed my phone and sent Dad a text.
Call me. If you can’t bring yourself to call me, call Catalina. Frank Darren wants Mom’s money. There is none, so we need your help.
I put the phone back, turned off the light, and sent up a feeble prayer that Dad got back to me.
In the morning, he hadn’t responded. Though, if the little check marks on the text were to be believed, the message had been delivered and seen.
Figured. No help from dear old Dad.
I had my hair in a ponytail ready to hit the road for work, when my cell rang.
Frank Darren.
Yippie.Not.
“Hello,” I answered.
“It’s payday, Savannah. You got my cash?”
“Yes,” I said, trying not to grit my teeth.
“Good. I’m in your driveway, unless you’d like me to—”
“I’ll be right out,” I said as calmly as I could.
Last night, I’d laid the cash out in piles with sticky notes labeling each pile, then I took a picture of the cash. With the money in an envelope, I wrote the full amount on the outside along with the date and took a picture of that too. It wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t mean anything to him, but it was better than nothing.
I grabbed my phone, keys, and the envelope, shoved my bare feet into a pair of slides and went outside.
Frank stood in the drive with his arms crossed, leaning against his BMW sedan. He had on a different pair of dress pants, a white polo shirt, and his sunglasses.
I stopped a foot from him and held out the envelope.
He uncrossed his arms to yank off his sunglasses, then arched a brow at the writing before taking it from me. “Don’t do that again.”
I crossed my arms. “Don’t do what? Label the envelope? Too bad, Frank. I’m gonna have some record of what I’ve paid becauseIdidn’t take out this loan, and I’m not gonna get jerked around and be some endless gravy train.”
His eyes narrowed, then he turned his head and laughed. When he caught my gaze again, an icy chill crept up my spine. “Your spunk is gonna get your sister’s ass in trouble. No envelope. Just money.”
I tried to dial back my sass, but really, this was outlandish. “How am I gonna know where I’m at then? You aren’t giving me a receipt, I get that - to an extent. But seriously, for all I know, you’re gonna forget I paid you or claim I paid you less.”
He bent forward at the waist. “That’s the risk your mother took. You’ll just have to trust me, Savannah.” He straightened. “See you next month on the thirtieth.”
He climbed into the BMW and left.
