"Sixty thousand!" I erupt, my pulse hammering in my throat, violent and uncontrollable.
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Isn't that a bit excessive?" I question.
"Umm... Well, in fairness, it looks like a bomb exploded. They broke a lot of tables and chairs. Shards of glass everywhere. And you know that mirror that covers the entire back wall?"
My gut drops. I close my eyes, gritting through my teeth, "What about it?"
"It's in a million pieces all over the floor. And that isn't a cheap fix," he states.
I take deliberate, slow breaths, trying to eliminate the building anger.
He clears his throat again, asking, "What should I tell Danny? He said the offer is only good for another hour."
I gently bang my head against the window and then hold it firmly against the chilled glass, squeezing my eyes tight.
Sixty grand.
They have a rodeo this week.
I should let them deal with the consequences.
If I do, they'll lose their sponsors, and I'll need to find two new clients.
"Ma'am?" the sheriff pushes.
I cave. "Tell Danny I'm on my way. But the roads are bad, so tell him not to leave if it takes me longer than an hour."
"Will do," he says.
I put the phone down and climb the staircase. I go into my closet and push my palm against the safe. There's a loud click, and the door opens.
My non-costume jewelry is on one shelf. Important documents are on the second. The bottom one contains one hundred thousand dollars in neat stacks of hundred-dollar bills.
Begrudgingly, I grab sixty thousand and try to stop my heart from slamming against my ribs, but it's pointless. I lock the safe,then grab an overnight bag. I stick the cash inside, and more anger festers in my chest.
"Idiots," I mumble as I step out of my room and rush down the hallway, knowing Danny isn't going to wait too long. He's got my riders by the balls, and he knows it. I'm sure the damage is excessive, but sixty thousand has to have some extra padding for his inconvenience.
I can't really blame him.
He's being greedy.
They're lucky he won't press charges.
What in the world made them do this?
Jagger steps out of the game room and bumps into me. He teases, "Whoa. Where's the fire?"
"Sorry. I have to bail Jericho and Colt out of jail."
My brother's cocky smirk appears. "What for?"
"It's not funny," I reprimand.
"I'll be the judge of that. What did they do?" he prods.
"They destroyed The Buck and Bruise. Now Danny wants sixty thousand to not press charges and sweep it under the rug."
