Page 102 of Dirty Cowboy

"No," the girls say in unison.

Fuck.

Pain pulses from my ankle, each throb in sync with the racing of my thoughts. If Huntzishere, I need to be able to run. Instead, I can barely walk.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, my stomach flipping as I read Greg’s message.

Found something. Property deeds hidden under shell company. Owner: Skylar Bishop.

My blood runs cold.

Skylar Bishop. The same name as the recipient of the Waters’weeklyaccount transfers.

My hands tremble as I connect the dots. Hidden money. Mysterious withdrawals.Huntz.

I lick my lips, pulse racing. "Does the last name Bishop ring a bell?"

Misty opens her mouth, but Annabelle beats her to it.

"It’s my landlord in San Francisco. Why?"

I inhale sharply. "Eric’s been sending money to your landlord?"

Annabelle’s face twists. "What?"

I shake my head. "Just something I was looking into."

Misty shifts uncomfortably, her expression unreadable.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says, but her voice wobbles. "We should get back. Eric’s gonna be worried."

Annabelle nods. "If thatwasHuntz, we need to stick together. Nobody stays alone. Got it?" She points a finger at us like she’s the eldest sister, and I don’t even have the energy to argue.

Flanked by my friends, I limp back toward the warm glow of the pub, every step reminding me of my swollen ankle. The neon sign hums in the darkness, casting eerie shadows across the gravel lot. The festive buzz of the crowd washes over me, but I feel miles away, still stuck in that moment when Huntz’s eyes found mine.

Eric is waiting just inside the door, his expression shifting the second he sees me.

"Where have you been, my darling?" His voice is low, rough, and laced with something possessive as he closes the distance, his hands finding my waist. He turns me gently, studying my face like he’s searching for answers.

I wince. "I’m fine. Just needed air after that disaster.And I think I twisted my ankle."

His gaze drops to my foot, jaw clenching. "We should get ice on that."

I shake my head. "I can still ride."

"Thehellyou can."

Before I can protest, he scoops me into his arms like I weigh nothing.

"Eric!" I gasp. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he murmurs. "It’s late. We’re going home."

I barely manage a glare before my head falls against his shoulder, exhaustion pulling at me.

Eric places a soft kiss on my head as he carries me to the truck. "Emma, don’t let Caroline get to you."

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