Page 172 of Property of Bob

“A little funny.”

“Doll.”

I slid my hand from his shirt and around his arm.

“Your crazy boss that was terrorizing you is here,” he reminded me.

The laughter disappeared as fast as it had come.

Wade was here on Skull Island.

I didn’t know how the hell he’d found me, and I didn’t know why he’d driven all the way from Iowa, but there weren’t many reasons that ended well.

The last time I’d seen him, I’d walked out of his office after telling him I knew he’d been stealing from the campground.

After that, someone had broken into my RV. Then I’d started seeing the same dark truck. My tire had been damaged. Then my RV had been tossed again. I’d left Iowa because I hadn’t wanted to stick around long enough to find out what came next.

Now whatever I’d run from had followed me all the way here.

Bob covered my hand with his. “You stay here.”

I looked at him. “No.”

“Ramona.”

“He came here for me.”

“Exactly.”

“So I’m going with you.”

His mouth flattened.

I squeezed his arm. “I’m not hiding in here while you handle my problem.”

“That’s the whole reason why you came here in the first place,” he pointed out. “I am going to handle him.”

Piney cracked his knuckles. “I wouldn’t mind taking a crack at the guy.”

Prime pointed at Piney. “Me too. We could get some pent-up aggression out.”

“I will handle this,” Bob growled.

Anchor sighed. “Can we deal with the asshole at the gate before you three start fighting over who gets to deal with the asshole at the gate?”

“Please,” I said.

Anchor looked at Lost. “He’s alone?”

“Far as I can tell. Came across the bridge in a pickup. He’s waiting by the gate.”

“Weapons?”

Lost shook his head. “Didn’t see any.”

Anchor looked at Skull. “Come on.” Then his eyes moved to Bob. “You and Ramona stay behind us until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Bob nodded.