Chapter 14
Dax
“He was fired from his last two jobs for stealing.” Preacher’s voice has a tinge of judgment. That’s the one thing about him. He can’t stand thieves. “Both places decided not to file charges.”
“Where did he work?”
“At a big box store. Two different ones and fired for the same cause.” I shake my head, but this is good news.
“Put him in one of the body shops outside of town.” Preacher’s head snaps up. I nod in confirmation.
“What the fuck do you want to hire him for?” Rip asks. Ripley King is the face of the operation, while I live in plain sight. He’s a mean bastard who gives no fucks and packs a hell of a punch.
“Trust me. There’s motive to my madness.” I rub my hands together as my plan starts to take shape.
“We don’t need to neutralize the mayor. That opportunist would sell his soul at this point,” Rip reminds me while Preacher nods in agreement.
“Make him the cashier.” It’s an easy decision to make when trying to trap a thief. “Preach, I need eyes on him at all times. All his movements while he’s at work need to be tracked. And let him steal. Trust me on this. All will be clear soon.”
I don’t think they like it, but they don’t offer any resistance. Ripley is distracted. He has business out of town starting tomorrow, and he’s bringing his girlfriend.
“How the fuck do you both have hickeys?” Preacher asks. Ripley ignores him.
“Maybe King’s neck is just red,” I suggest.
“And yours?” Preacher asks.
“That’s none of your damn business.” Rip drops his uninterested facade and looks at my neck, but he doesn’t ask any questions. I do note that his lips curl into somewhat of a smile.
We work well together, but we keep our private lives private. I know everything I need to know about them, and the most important thing is that they can both be trusted.
Preacher rubs his thumb on my neck, and I knock it away.
“What the fuck are you touching me for?”
“That’s not a hickey. Who the hell scratched you up like that?” I slap my hand on my neck to cover it.
“Finch.” I’m sure they know I’m lying. Finch would never hurt me. She would only attack someone at my command or if she thought I was in danger.
“Only a woman would get close enough to do that. How the fuck you both have women, and I’m at home every day holding my dick in my hand?”
“I don’t need that visual, Preach,” I state, disgusted at the thought.
“I need a woman. Out of all of us, King is the last one I would expect to be coupled up. It should be me. I’m the nicest out of us.” Preacher drops himself on the sofa and covers his face. “How the fuck did King get a woman?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Rip asks, clearly affronted.
“You’re mean as a venomous snake, so how the hell did you end up with the sheriff’s daughter?”
“Women don’t want a nice guy, dumb ass,” I tell Preacher. “And who lied to you and told you that you’re nice?”
Rip’s phone rings, and from the look on his face as he looks at the screen, I know who it is. He walks to the corner and whispers.
“Everything all set for the poker game tonight?” I ask.
“I don’t abide by gambling.” I almost want to roll my eyes at Preacher, but I don’t. “First Timothy chapter six, verse nine. But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare—”
“Oh, my God, shut the fuck up.” I pick up a pen and toss it at him. He moves out of the way, and it hits the wall.
Preacher tilts his head in Rip’s direction. He has his body partially turned as he speaks in hushed tones, but he lets out an unguarded laugh, which is unlike him. I never heard him laugh before he got a girlfriend, and part of me is envious of that.
Our life can be isolating, but it’s the life I chose out of necessity. I never had much. Not until my mother married my stepfather when I was seven. For the first time in my life, I had a nice place to live, toys, and a dad.
My mother had me when she was only sixteen, and I never knew my biological father. He joined the military out of high school, and other than the small child support he paid my mother, we’ve never had much of a relationship.
My mother met Neal Richardson when I was six, and they married by the time I was seven. Even though he never formally adopted me, he’s the only father I ever had and the only one I ever needed.
We were a family, and when I was sixteen, my mother gave birth to my sister. I didn’t know it then, but my sister, Josie, was a miracle baby because Neal thought he could not father children.
My stepfather owned a diner, and my mother worked there part-time.
Everything was going well until he was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.
His symptoms were aggressive, and within three years, he was in a wheelchair.
He was dead within five years. On his deathbed, Neal made me promise to always take care of my mother and sister.
He told me I was the man now, leaving me in charge, but he would be looking down on me from heaven.
I gave him my word, but I knew when he took his last breath, that would be it. I never believed in a higher power, heaven or hell, but I’ve always been a man of my word.
“Thorny!” I hear Rip yell. “Baby? Talk to me. Are you there?”
Preacher and I freeze while we stare at him. He calls her name again and runs out. Preacher follows him.