“I was a concerned homeowner,” he lied, his gaze going to Birdee.
His eyes narrowed when he saw the gash on her forehead.
“What happened to your face?” he asked bluntly.
Birdee turned her gaze away from the car her ex-stepfather was sleeping in to the man who was dressed in nothing but a pair of moccasins and underwear.
In thirteen-degree weather, might I add.
“Creed hit me with his truck,” she murmured. “Creed, I have to get to work. If you can’t drive me, I need to start walking.”
Hux’s gaze met mine and his brows rose.
I shook my head and got out of the truck, rounding it to the back tailgate where Hux met me.
Hux was tattooed practically from neck to waist. There wasn’t a single inch of bare skin on his upper torso that didn’t have multicolor ink staining it.
I, luckily, didn’t have any identifying ink on my arms or anything exposed, enabling me to get out of the painful tattoo removal that Gentry had to go through.
“I heard that there was an accident here last night, but I didn’t realize it was you,” he said.
I rubbed at my face with my hands, then explained everything, leading up to just about five minutes ago when I spotted her stepfather.
“I’ll keep an eye on him while you get her to work,” he said. “I’ll call if anything exciting goes down.”
“Thanks,” I murmured as I dragged my tired ass back to the truck.
“Ready to hit the road?” I asked.
Her face was pale as I looked over at her once I put it in drive. “More than.”
Six
I’m a side chick. Mashed potatoes. Macaroni. Potato salad.
—Birdee’s secret thoughts
Birdee
“All right, Gordie,” I said as I put the prairie rattlesnake that I’d been milking back into his enclosure. “Be a good boy and make some more venom.”
A chuckle from behind me had me whirling, and I pressed my hand over my chest as I stared at my creep of a boss.
I was glad that I’d finally graduated and I could finally look for a different job.
I had my eye on two jobs in specific. One with the United States Department of Agriculture for Wildlife management, and one with a private company that makes dog food as a research developmentalist.
Both jobs couldn’t get back to me fast enough.
“Hi, Stacy.” I smiled at Shade’s stepdad, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “I thought you’d gone home.”
Hoped you’d gone home…
“Came back to get my cell phone. Left it on my desk,” he lied.
He purposefully left it on his desk so he’d have a reason to come back for it when I was all alone.
Something he tried to do once a week.
