Page 44 of Cold Foot Revenge
She strained her ears to hear what he was saying as she walked closer.
“Rabbit Hole. 2598 South Gentry Street.”
She frowned and kicked her pace up to a jog.
“Just you and Tawk. I don’t want Garret anywhere near this.”
She thought he would react negatively to her approaching his truck when he’d asked for a minute, but instead, he leaned over and pushed open the door for her.
A man’s deep voice came through the speaker. “Stay out of it until we can get there.”
“Don’t tell Garret,” Dylan said. “Please. He’s good. He’s got Raynah and Breah. Let him keep his peace.”
“Lay low.”
“Thanks, Wreck. I owe you.”
“No, you don’t.”Click. The line went dead.
Dylan gritted his teeth and shook his head, then leveled her with a look and just stared.
“What?” she whispered.
“I can’t stand the wait. I can’t stand him thinking he got away with this shit.”
“Was that Wreck?” she asked. “TheWreck?” Oh, she’d heard the rumors. The Cold Foot Crew was run by a phoenix. The destructive kind. An ender of worlds. A death-bringer.
“Yes,” he said simply.
“What’s going to happen?”
“Revenge.” Another simple answer that held so much weight, it made it hard for her to breathe.
“You don’t understand. The Grit-Bron Crew has a hold of this whole town.”
“I know it feels big, Roxy, because this is all you know, but this is not how it is supposed to be. I need to know.”
“Know what?” she whispered.
“Everything. I need to know everything.”
And so, as he drove them farther out of town, to find a place to lay low as Wreck had asked, she did. She told him everything.
She told him about the resumes, and the car, and the loan, and the interest, and the traps Grave had carefully set to keep her dependent on him. About the dancing, and the emptiness she felt because she didn’t even get to keep her money from all that awful work. She told him about the hope she’d felt tonight, and the money she’d made, and what had happened to her face.
By the time they pulled into a motel parking lot an hour away from the Rabbit Hole, she felt absolutely drained, but something else was happening. She also felt extreme relief, like every story she’d unloaded to Dylan had lifted a weight off her chest she hadn’t known was there.
Tonight, she’d had hope for a few hours, and it had felt so absolutely and utterly beautiful. That hope had been dashed by Grave. Again.
But now? Dylan was more capable than she’d realized. He’d shown up when she’d been in a desperate situation and running for her life. He’d put himself between her and the charging, murderous Grit-Bron Crew. Just appeared with his window open, making sure she had a safe spot to land. His new truck was mangled on the back right, but he didn’t even mention it. Dylan was just concerned about her. That’s all.
Don’t run.
Her coyote sure had a lot of advice and feelings tonight, where usually she was silent.
“I have to tell you something,” she told him as he moved to get out of the truck and check them into a room.
He froze. “What is it?”
