Chapter Three
I still haven ’ t left the spot where Silas and I made our deal, and the sun will be up soon.
I know that eventually the town will be quiet, and it makes me angry.
How they can sleep so soundly knowing what they did to me by trading Elyse for… Hell, I don ’ t even know what the trade was for, but I refuse to let it stand.
That ’ s where Silas and his Sun Down Mob come in.
They ’ ll get me justice in ways that the townsfolk would never have dreamed of. Not only that, but they ’ ll also get my Nightingale back, as he likes to call her.
I rub the scruff on my chin, amused at how quickly it ’ s grown from the night before, then let out a sigh. He said to give him time, and I will; I just have to force myself to trust that they ’ ll do the right thing by me and ask for something I can actually give in return.
Everything will go back to the way it was when Elyse comes home.
I lose myself in the memory of how it felt to hold such a fragile, small body in my arms. Of how her hair smelled of hyacinth, the sweet liqueur taste of her lips, and the pale, moonlit color of her skin. I look down at my dust-covered boots, thinking of how soft her skin is, how perfect and unblemished every part of her body happens to be, even though we used to spend most of our time out in the sun, riding our horses until it was time for me to come back and patrol the streets at twilight. And no matter how much that would take a toll, I would never have spent my time anywhere else.
“ All alone, Boone?”
I immediately stand up tall, square my shoulders, then turn around. The voice that could lure a man to his death—the opposite of Elyse ’ s—is calling out to me.
Mollie herself, the self-proclaimed Patron Saint of Whores, walks toward me with a smirk on her face. Her hips sway as they tend to do when she wants to seduce a conquest. She primps her pretty, red curls as she keeps her eyes on me, stopping a few feet away. She knows I ’ m still trying to figure out who traded Elyse and that she ’ s at the top of my list.
“ That ’ s Sheriff Mason to you,” I remind her evenly before I spit in the dirt and place my hands on my hips. Mollie ’ s eyes watch my right hand as the thumb gently lays against the hammer of my gun. I never have this thing strapped in too tightly because there are too many dangers here to be that reckless.
“ Hm,” she replies, her smirk faltering slightly. That ’ s what I thought, bitch. “ What are you doing out here so late at night?”
“ Early in the morning, you mean,” I correct her as I shift from one foot to the other impatiently. I never did care for small talk with anyone here, but that hasn ’ t stopped them from trying.
“ Same thing,” she replies with a wave of her hand. Mollie clears her throat and crosses her arms loosely over her chest. “ I was just on my way home and was wondering if you ’ d be willing to walk me there.”
“ Not a chance in Hell.”
She fake pouts, her plump lips becoming larger and damn near comedic. “ But isn ’ t that your job?”
“ To be your private escort? No,” I bark at her, my thumb rubbing against the hammer. I ’ ve been itching to down her in a hail of bullets ever since Elyse went missing, as she likes to call it, and she still insists on pushing my buttons.
“ Clearly,” Mollie shoots back before blowing out an exasperated breath. “ I meant to keep everyone here safe. It ’ s dangerous business walking home alone when you ’ re a woman in this place. I was only hoping to make it there safely.”
I hold Mollie ’ s eyes long enough to make her uncomfortably shift and look away for a brief moment. When she looks back at me again, I issue her a stark warning.
“ You go ahead and get home while you still can and make it quick. You never know who could be watching.”