“I owe ‘em twenty but I got eighteen on hand.”
Okay, that wasn’t so horrific. A two thousand dollar difference wasn’t as bad as I’d been expecting. Then again, I wasn’t expecting him to owe people twenty friggin’ thousand dollars either. Holy crap.
How much money did I have in my savings account? I tried to do the math in my head.
Twelve hundred for sure, maybe fifteen hundred...
Fingers gripped my forearm. Dex made a grunting noise in his throat that caught my attention more than his grasp. "Don't even think about it," he warned in a stern voice.
How the heck did he know what I was thinking? "What?"
"We aren't usin' your money." He squeezed my arm. "We talked about this, Ris. We'll figure it out, right?"
That's exactly what we'd agreed on. I nodded at him, ignoring the inquisitive look on my father's face ashewatched us.
Dex tilted his face back over to him, eyes narrowed. "You like that, big man? Your daughter offerin' to pay for your shit?Hercleanin' up your mess? Seems to be somethin' you're used to. Leavin' your shit layin' around for other people to clean up."
It was impossible not to hear the grinding of Curt Taylor's teeth, or miss the way he leaned across the greasy table. "You don't know shit about me—"
"I know enough."
"You don't knowa damn thing—"
"You think I don't know everythin' there is to know about you? I know what I need to, and lemme tell you, I'm not impressed. You're a grade A pussy, Taylor, and you're a fuckin' moron," Dex rolled the words out of his mouth.
Oh hell. They were talking so loud people at the tables surrounding us started to turn around. I palmed the inside of Dex's thigh to try and calm him down. Not that it was an easy task to begin with when he was pissed off.
He was defending me though, not picking a fight just for the heck of it.
"What are we going to do?" I asked them both.
The sperm donor reclined back in the booth, crossing his arms over his chest. The resemblance between him and Sonny was shocking. The eyes, the build, the freaking attitude. "I can come up with the othertwobut it'll take a little while," he explained in a low voice.
It was too much to ask for that he'd be embarrassed by the situation, much less have him admit that he was guilty of being a Grade A Jackass.
Dex snickered, slipping his hand over mine. "Not two. Twenty-one."
I think we both turned to look at him like he was crazy.
All Dex did was raise a lazy, defiant eyebrow. "You forgettin' about the money you owed the Reapers?"
"Goddamn," my dad muttered, scrubbing his hands over his hair again.
Hadn't he told me just days before that that had been sorted out? Wait,what the hell had he meant by sorting things out? And what the hell had I been thinking assuming that the debt had magically disappeared? Like that kind of crap actually happened.
"Twenty-one?" he choked out.
Dex tapped his fingers on the counter, his fingers kneading my thigh. "There's somethin' called interest, ya know." He tipped his chin up. "But don't worry about thatright now. You and me can work out a payment plan once my girl is off the choppin' block."
Payment plan?
Say what?
I wanted to ask him for clarification but this wasn't the time, at least not while the sperm donor sat three feet from us. He could see the question on my face.You paid it off?
Curt opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else. He mouthed, my girl, but said nothing. He rubbed his hands over his scalp again, exasperated. "I can make back the money in a few days if I drop by Mississippi and Louisiana, and hit up the casinos."
I looked at Dex, and he looked at me, and I didn't even think twice about dropping my forehead to the table and banging it on there a couple of times.
