“Why would I lie to you?”
“I have a laundry list of reasons,” I deadpan.
Amos holds his finger up, scolding me. “I’m your father, boy. Watch it.”
“You have done nothing to earn being called that.” I scoff.
“I didn’t kill your girlfriend,” he tries convincing me, but his argument is thin.
“Where’s. Your. Proof.” I pound out each word at him.
He finally answers my original question, “It’s safe with a friend.”
Rolling my eyes, my head shakes. “Which is another way of saying you don’t have shit. Nice try. Enjoy rotting in here.” Slamming the phone down, I stand from the stool and inform a guard that I’m ready to go.
“Wait! Wait! Get your ass back here!” Amos shouts at my back, but I don’t turn around. “She’s been living in Boston! She’s been alive this whole time! And she’s coming back!”
“That’s enough!” a guard barks. “Calm down, Montgomery!”
“Watch your back! She’s coming!”
The guard leads me back to the entrance. Not once do I look over my shoulder. I keep my focus fixed ahead, leaving behind Amos and his lies.
CHAPTER THIRTY
RAVEN
Ever since my date from hell, I’ve tried to keep my distance from the Montgomery twins. But they find excuses to stop by the house and to be right next to me at The Wandering Raven. Even now, Griffin is on my ass. The only reprieve I get is at the library.
As I wipe down the counter, waiting for the night crowd to shuffle into The Wandering Raven, Griffin restocks the liquor. “You can go take care of your boss man things, you know. I don’t need a babysitter.”
Griffin continues to shelf the bottles. “I’m not babysitting.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” My tone is bland, conveying my sarcasm. “Why can’t Benny be my babysitter?”
“I’m not a babysitter,” he quips without looking away from the TV.
“Benny’s busy,” Griffin adds.
Spinning toward Griffin, I throw my hands up. “Benny’s never busy.” Over my shoulder, I add, “No offense.”
Benny’s attention is still locked on the screen. “None taken.”
“Stop acting like a brat,” Griffin replies, yet again not looking at me.
Groaning dramatically, I go back to wiping the bar.
Fine. I’ll just pretend he’s not here. Simple enough. I can ignore my sexy boss for one night, even if every time he’s near and I get a whiff of his sea salt and bergamot aroma, my core aches.
Since my rescue, I haven’t had sex. It’s just been me and my toys. Maybe I’m just going through a bout of hysteria like women in the nineteenth century. I’ve been deprived of orgasms and just need a release.
It’s not long before a few customers wander in. I take their drink orders and quickly get them filled behind the bar. Griffin doesn’t follow me, which is a relief. Maybe I need to focus more on the tables tonight so I can breathe.
When I approach the last customer with his drink, I rethink not having my shadow with me. He’s the type who looks too put together. Like he’s trying too hard to convince everyone around him that he’s a nice guy. But nice guys don’t lurk at a booth in a bar, staring at every woman who walks in.
As I hand him his Bud Light, he grazes his fingers over mine and shoots me a wink.
Bleh. I’m going to need a shower after this shift.
