Page 46 of Refuge for Cherilyn

Cherilyn looked like she was going to burst into tears. “Shaw, it’s okay, really. I’ll just?”

“Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere. Not until you get an apology.” He turned to find Candace standing there defiantly. “GO!” he yelled again and pointed to the door.

“God. Out here in god-forsaken bumfuck bumpkin land with a stick lady and a retard girl and?”

“Shut up and get outside.” She cleared the doorway and Shaw stepped out, slamming the door behind him. “Would you like to tell me what the hell you think you’re doing, showing up here and disrespecting every god damn person in the county this way?”

“Every god damn person in the county? I knew this place was small, but?”

“Shut up, Candace. Just shut up. And the next words out of your mouth had better be the truth, or so help me god?”

“So help you godwhat? You gonna punch me?”

“No. I’ll pull you over my knee and wear your ass out.”

“Sounds a bit kinky, don’t you think?” she asked with a snicker.

Shaw stood there, pulled in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he fully intended to find out. “What are you doing here, Candace?”

“I told you, I wanted to see you.”

“Uh-huh. Why?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“To come here from Gulf Shores in…” He turned and looked in the driveway. “Oh my god, is that a Lamborghini Diablo?”

“Like it?” she asked with a cheesy grin.

“Who drove it?”

Candace snorted. “Me. Duh.”

“You’re fifteen!”

“Yeah, well, they bought it for me when I was fourteen, so I’ve been driving for a year. So I must be a good driver.”

Shaw thought the top of his head was going to blow off. “They let you drive at fourteen?”

“Hell, they’re always gone. How else am I going to get around?”

Morgan had always been a bitch, but he’d never expected things to go so far south in three years. Dear god, a fourteen-year-old had been drivingthat cararound in Alabama? How the hell had she managed to not get caught? Or had she gotten caught and… Shaw didn’t want to think about that. “Fourteen-year-olds don’t drive cars, and you won’t be driving it here. Now, are you going to tell me the real reason you’re here?”

“I told you?”

“Therealreason, Candace. I can always call your mother and find out.”

“Oh, god, no.” Even the seven layers of makeup couldn’t hide the colorless pallor that washed out her features in seconds. “Don’t call Mom. Please. I really don’t want her to know where…” And she stopped.

That was the moment he knew?something had happened. “Candace, what did you do?”

“I just, dunno, bought something.”

“What did you buy?”

“Um, I bought detailing for my car.”

“Detailing? Like…”

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