Page 17 of Property of Tacoma
Saylor bounces on her toes. “Yes!”
Foxy transfers Panda to my girl, who cradles the animal gently. To my amazement, Jagger steps closer and pets its head, a genuine smile spreading across his face. When was the last time I saw him smile like that?
Badass Barbie is a damn miracle worker.
“Can we stay in here while you go do your job?” Saylor asks, looking up at Foxy with pleading eyes.
I place a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I have to leave for a little bit to help Foxy with her job, but you and Jag are going to go to Grandpa and Gigi’s house for a little bit.”
She sticks her lip out in a pout that normally gets her whatever she wants. “I don’t want to go. I want to play with Panda.”
Foxy’s face softens. “Why don’t you take Panda with you? I’ll pick him up when I’m done.” She glances at me, silently asking if that’s okay.
I hesitate, not sure how my Ma will feel about a raccoon in her house. But the way Saylor’s face lights up makes the decision for me.
“You sure?” I ask Foxy.
She nods. “He’s got a carrier, and he’s very well-behaved.” She shoots a look at the destroyed blinds. “Most of the time.”
I turn to Jagger. “Keep an eye on them?”
He shrugs, still petting the raccoon. “Sure.”
I shake my head slightly in disbelief. Yeah, Badass Barbie is a fucking angel, working miracles on my boy.
“Alright then,” I say, checking my watch. “Let me call my parents and let them know they’re coming over with a... special guest.”
As I step outside to make the call, I can’t help but glance back through the RV door, watching Foxy talk to my kids. There’s something about her—beyond the obvious physical attraction—that’s got me intrigued. She’s dangerous; that much is clear from how she handled Bane, but the way she’s acting right now with my kids. I wanna know more about this woman.
I dial my father’s number, already dreading the conversation about why I’m sending them a raccoon, but unable to keep the smile off my face.
Today has been one clusterfuck after another, but somehow, I’ve got a feeling things are about to get interesting.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I am so screwed,” I mutter under my breath, watching Tacoma through the RV window as he paces back and forth across the parking lot with his phone pressed to his ear.
If my brother finds out I tossed the Kings’ VP onto the ground and put my gun to his head, he’s going to blow a fucking gasket. The sudden visual of the vein in his forehead that always pops out when he’s pissed flashes through my mind. I can picture it threatening to burst out of his head.
I groan inwardly. This is so bad.
Maybe I can make amends before I leave, and Chief will never find out.
I glance out the side window toward the clubhouse, picturing the murderous look on what’s-his-name’s face when I tossed him into the dirt. His face was as red as a beet. I doubt there’s a chance in hell the VP will let bygones be bygones.
I sigh.
Not good, Cali. Not good.
As if the Universe has a sense of humor, my phone buzzes with a text.
Chief: U there yet?
My first thought is to toss my phone in a drawer and ignore my brother’s nosey ass, but as I’m debating it, the damn thing vibrates again.
Chief: Yes or no?
I roll my eyes at the still locked screen. He’s a real pain in the ass. You’d never guess from the way he treats me that I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman, and not a child that needs to be micromanaged.
