Pretty Lawless

by Jodi Linton

  I tried to move past him, but he sidestepped to keep in front of me. The smile was gone from his face.

  “Hey, you know I’m here for you, right?” he asked in a sincere voice I was sure he used to sweet-talk girls out of their panties. Hell, it was sort of working on me.

  “Yeah, I know you are, Colt. It’s just that this is all starting to wear on me, you know? I mean, when is it gonna end?”

  “Listen to me here, Laney,” he said, cupping my elbow with his large, strong hand. “We’re gonna get your rancher friend back to Pistol Rock, all right?” His cool gray eyes were full of concern. Even though deep down I wasn’t entirely sold that Colt Larsen didn’t have an ulterior motive in helping me get Luke cleared of murder charges, I still welcomed his friendship. “I’ve never been too keen on the idea of leaving an innocent man in jail to rot away.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I answered, hypnotized by his eyes and reassurances.

  “And remember, you brought a federal marshal with you, and if there’s one thing I’m known for, it’s getting shit done when I say I’m gonna do it. Got it?”

  “Sure thing,” I said, smiling.

  “You better now?” he asked, that hand still latched on my elbow.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I replied, moving some hair out of my face. “It just all caught up with me there for a second.”

  “That’s good,” he said, giving my arm a gentle rubdown, only to circle back up toward my elbow and start the dangerous comforting tactic again. “And if you start feeling that way again later this evening, you can stay in my trailer, where I can make you feel a hell of a lot better than I can out here on this sidewalk.”

  “God damn it, Colt!” I screamed, slapping his hand off my arm. “You’re such an asshole.” I threw that in for good measure as I marched across the paved parking lot.

  He followed after me, and in good ol’ country-boy fashion beat me to the door. With a wide arm gesture, Colt pulled the glass front door open, saying, “After you, my lady.”

  I stalled, the queasiness resurfacing in my gut once again.

  “What?” He arched a brow.

  “Nothing.” I tried to dodge his question. “You and I both need an alias.” Standing tall, I looked him square in the eyes. “Hannah will recognize me, but in order to even get to her I can’t be going around introducing myself as Laney Briggs,” I said, moving around his wide shoulders. On a giggle, I carried on. “How about we call you Reed Dickman? You know”—I shot a dirty look at his crotch—“since you happen to be such a dick.”

  Colt caught my arm and pulled me back a step, then tugged me into him. “Stick with me, honey, and I’ll show you I’m willing to do a lot more than change my name to Reed Dickman.”

  Oh, jeez! And he wondered why his wife divorced him. Shortly after his ex-wife, Kate, had been hauled off to the slammer on fraud charges for the second time around, she’d denied any visitation from her federal marshal ex-husband. I’d heard through the grapevine that Colt had taken the smackdown pretty darn hard. Yet it seems he’s over her now, since every damn chance the sexy marshal gets he uses it to flirt with me in my vulnerable state. For crying out loud, doesn’t he understand I have a cowboy problem? And his high-handed attitude was starting to rev me up. Lord knows, there was no more room for another bullheaded, sinfully sweet cowboy in my life.

  Colt took hold of my hand and guided me through the strip club doors.

  “So what’s your name gonna be?” he asked, stopping at the register and rummaging in his back pocket for his wallet.

  “Cat Cummings,” I said, ducking under his arm. Colt stared at me in disbelief. “What? She used to throw rocks at me on the playground—well, until Luke shoved her face into the sandbox.”

  I swear he laughed so hard snot came out his nose. “Cummings…”

  “At least they won’t be calling me Dickman.” I looked back at Colt hanging on my every word like he’d just played witness to me masturbating in the shower.

  “I’ll have you know that name suits me just fine, cowgirl.” The way-too-hot marshal winked as he slapped down a couple of twenties. “Keep the change, doll,” Colt said, his voice oozing respectful gentleman, I-don’t-do-one-night-stands-well-unless-you’re-gonna-beg charm at the clerk motioning us on through the crimson curtains.

  “Don’t even wanna go there.” I smiled, pulling the drapery apart. “Not really in the mood to hear your sexcapade stories. I moved past one-night stands at the age of fifteen.”

  He gave me a once-over, not in an attempt to check out the girls but to make sure I still had all my marbles. “Darling, you and that Texas Ranger boyfriend take the cake on one-night stands.”

  I shrugged. Everything he’d laid out was so true, and for the time being I needed him, even if I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing so. I was really starting to question my own ability at taking down Redbud before Gunner got his ranger claws deeper in Luke’s murder charges. And I would not go down in flames. If making a deal with the devil got me there, by god, I would shake his hand while asking where to sign on the dotted line.

  Nodding, I pondered my next line of thought and decided it was best to dive in headfirst. Lion’s den, here I come.

  “Maybe you can show me that not all cowboy lawmen are a bunch of snakes.”

  He tugged at his huge belt buckle. “I knew you’d be ready to paint the town red with a marshal. I promise I won’t bite.” He winked. “At least not this time, anyways.”

  Things could bottom out fairly quickly between the two us, so to save face I playfully shoved him in the arm.

  “When have you ever not had fun with me?” I asked, wide-eyed and more out of breath than I’d like to have been. Hard to have him so close and not succumb to his gentlemanly ways.

  Colt pushed his hat up, grinning. “For starters, that Bristol Mills shakedown sucked balls.” He grinned, then shoved past me, vanishing into the dark room lit with strobe lights ahead.

  My regrets were starting to become more problematic than when the lady friend comes and visits once a month. At least I could plug her up.

  Chapter Eight

  Gunner

  Fuck Wagner.

  And fuck diner coffee.

  “You do know that coffee won’t come in your mouth?” I glared across the table at Luke sipping away at the mug like some goddamn debutante.

  Luke smiled and kept drinking.

  The Lord hated my ass. There was no other explanation as to why I had become a glorified babysitter. Being hated made more sense. When Laney had bailed on me last night, I tried, damn did I try to fall asleep. But after a failed jackoff attempt, I spent most of the night awake dreaming about my bed back home. Just the thought of holding Laney in my arms, feeling her snuggled up against my body and fondling my dick, well, it’d caused an itch under my skin that not even a hand job could scratch.

  My partner Wesley was definitely pissed, and the scowl he gave me explained it all… I scored myself a winner this morning. He was second in command when it came to watching Luke Wagner’s back, so I couldn’t blame the guy for wanting to stick it to me after having to waste a night being the sorry rancher’s watchdog. I set my mug down on the table and leaned forward on my forearms.

  “Okay.” I stared at the mug occupying the attention of my key witness. “Ready to talk shop, Wagner?”

  Luke slurped, then lifted a hand, waving over our waitress. “You are seriously cramping my style.”

  “You really think I enjoy holding your hand all day?”

  “That stick you threw me down on during the shootout might leave behind a scar.” He tipped his coffee to his lips and half smiled. “Still got the bandage to prove your piss-poor lawman skills.”

  “Well, I took a goddamn bullet,” I growled. “So how about let’s call it even.”

  The rancher stretched both arms above his head and cocked his head at Wesley. “Heard Sampson got moved from ICU this morning.” He split a glance back at me. “That my new handler?”
/>
  I tapped the tabletop, taking my time to draw out my response. “What, you sweet on him?” It’d been a smart-ass comment, but with the nasty mood I was in I couldn’t help myself. Besides, the last time the two of us shared coffee Luke left me with the check. “Wesley will be keeping an eye on you,” I grumbled. “And my boss told me the fed Brock shot should recover nicely.”

  Luke nodded. “Good.” He fiddled with a spoon next to a plate of cold scrambled eggs. “What’s the news on the case now that I’m temporarily put on witness protection leave?”

  “Everything stays the same.” I shrugged off my denim jacket. “You lie low while I continue digging around Redbud’s various parties and questioning his guests.”

  “You’re saying I’m going to be a kept man for the next couple of weeks.”

  Grabbing my coffee mug, I lifted it, attempting to signal our waitress to get me a refill. “Maybe longer if nothing new turns up on Redbud or his business deals.”

  “Nothing new,” Luke quipped. “What do you call that goddamn information I gave the Texas Rangers on Redbud approaching me to help deal drugs across the border through my father’s cattle ranch? You and I discussed we’d use it against him to see if he knows about your parents’ death and my father’s connection with the cold case.”

  I set my mug down. “Why not shout to the whole fucking world what we’re up to?” The tic in my neck intensified as I scowled across the booth at him. “All we have is your word to go on, and contrary to your belief, your word isn’t entirely golden.”

  “How did you get the boss to let you stay on the case after shooting Detective Cavanaugh in the head?” He leveled me with a glare. “Thought they would’ve removed you from the case and put you behind a desk by now.”

  This happened to be the main reason why I didn’t want my boss rewarding Luke Wagner with a pass on criminal charges. The man was an annoying little shit.

  I scrubbed my chin on a sigh. “To replace me on the case this deep in would ruin everything we’ve done so far. I’ve made connections with the local swinger scene, and a few contacts that might link Redbud to the Molly outburst.”

  Luke scrubbed a hand over his face. “And you’re just gonna lock me up like some damn prisoner when I could lend a hand.”

  “Enough chitchat. Drink your coffee so I can hand you off to Wesley and be on with my day. Last night did me in when it comes to bullshitting for a good long while.”

  Luke rested on his elbows. “By the way, meant to tell you thanks for blocking that bullet. You won’t ever be able to convince me you don’t care about me anymore.” He winked, his tone pure smugness. “Only walked away with a gun burn on my chest and a stick jabbed in my side when I could’ve been six feet in the ground this morning.”

  “Tell that to our deputy friend, why don’t you?”

  He grinned, the humorless glint damn apparent in his assessment of me. “Oh, shit. She left you out in the cold last night.”

  I balled my fists under the table. I had been placed under strict orders by my boss, Chief McNalley, not to clock Luke upside the head again. Apparently McNalley wasn’t too amused by last week’s brawl between the two of us outside the ranger station. He’d suggested we talk it out or, better yet, make amends with our past. Screw that shit. I’d rather waste my afternoons at anger management sessions than play nice with the pretty boy. He’d rolled around in the bedsheets with Laney. For six years, the fact that my girlfriend slept with such a shit bag festered my hatred for the man.

  At the moment, I wanted nothing more than to send the rich prick packing, and yet my split-second decision to allow my boss to put a call in to the FBI to help handle Luke’s eyewitness account of Redbud’s under-the-table dealings slightly backfired on me. I slumped in the booth, pulled my hat lower, and ran through all the different ways I could rid my life of one Luke Wagner. Why the hell had I blocked that bullet?

  Because I’m an officer of the law, and damn proud of it.

  A white cowboy hat tipped in my direction. “I saw her standing in the hospital lobby.”

  I jerked, because the very thought of Luke and Laney having a heart-to-heart while I hobbled my wounded ass around the hospital made my frustration manifest into full-blown Neanderthal mood.

  “We are not here to talk about Laney.” I clenched my teeth, seething inside from the knowledge Luke had brought up my girlfriend. The same sassy woman who left me with a hard-on that would’ve lit up a metal detector.

  Shoulders leaned forward, bringing that shit-eating grin closer, he added, “She looked pretty upset, big guy. Want to tell me exactly what you told her?”

  “That’s none of your damn business, Wagner.” I caught the eye of our blond waitress hunched over a neighboring table and taking orders. The pink miniskirt rode up her thighs, and maybe I let my gaze linger a little too long on her tits. But hey, I’m a guy. I like boobs. And sometimes when your girlfriend bails after working your cock over like a NASCAR driver shifting gears at Talladega only to toss it aside and find something more appealing, well, a little window watching was necessary.

  Not that I’d do anything about it. Been there before, and it awarded me a permanent scar on my ass. I learned a hard lesson that day. Laney might be the most beautiful woman I’d ever had the chance to spend my nights with, but hell, she had a mean aim. I am living proof to that.

  Luke kept his eye on the waitress pouring coffee. “We never screwed.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said, catching her smiling back us, and tipped my hat before cutting a glare at my old archnemesis. “But I’ll give you an hour, and then all bets are off that the blonde is in your bed.”

  He laughed. “If I was you, I wouldn’t let Laney catch me staring at another chick.” Luke’s upper lip twitched in amusement. “As I was saying, Wilson, that pistol deputy friend of mine never saw the Big Steer.” He looked down at his lap, then back up. “Damn, it feels good to finally clear the air on that one.”

  My jaw snapped shut. “Come again?”

  “I never tapped Laney’s tail.”

  I swear it felt like someone had socked me in the gut. Hot rage bubbled up inside me. I pushed my hat back and scratched my forehead. Jackass. All these years he’d allowed me to believe that he and Laney had slept together. That they’d carried on a fling after I disappeared to Houston. Fucking bastard. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed not to punch Luke in the face, because it was as if my fist had a mind of its own as I lunged across the table and socked that motherfucker’s jaw.

  “Fuck!” Luke spat, blood running down his cheek. He swiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand and readjusted that now jacked-up jaw. “I can’t believe you just hit me after I told you I never banged your girlfriend.”

  I’d missed my projected target…the pretty boy’s nose. “Well, believe it,” I shot back and hit him again.

  Sometimes I just sucked at being Mr. Nice Guy.

  “Holy shit, Wilson,” I sort of heard my partner, Wesley, grumble and the sound of coffee spilling to the floor.

  But that was before Luke’s fist connected with my nose and all hell broke loose. In a tangle of snarls and fists, we toppled the table over and everything came crashing down with it. Law-abiding Texas Ranger, my ass. Luke wrapped a leg around me, pinning my back to the tile floor.

  “You’ll never learn, big guy. Even as kids I could knock you out.” His arm reared back, and he sent a fist into my face.

  Blood coated my cracked upper lip, and sweat lined my brow. Adrenaline tripped through my veins as I turned a cheek to spit. Totally unprofessional to be on my back inside a highway diner, fixing to ram a knee in the balls of the prime witness on a case I’m working, but I did it anyway.

  The moment I connected with his spineless dick, I felt hands grip me by the shoulders and drag my body away as I watched Luke fall on his side, moaning. Bloody lips and face so damn tender it hurt to lift my chin, I spotted Wesley towering over me and shaking his head in disapproval.

  “For Christ
’s sake, Wilson.” He offered up a hand. “Way to keep things on the down low.”

  I spat on the floor. “I hate assholes with my coffee.”

  The way McNalley was glaring at me from behind his desk brought back all those fond memories of my time spent in the principal’s office in grade school. I shifted the ice pack over my swollen eye and let my head fall back against the chair.

  “Earth to Wilson,” a brittle voice snapped.

  I righted myself and dropped the ice pack on a groan. “The prick started it.”

  “By prick,” McNalley, chief and all-around straight shooter, stated matter-of-factly, “I’m assuming you mean Luke Wagner.”

  Cursing under my breath, I placed the ice pack on the table and pushed my hat back to level the playing field between me and the boss man. “When this case blows up in our faces, I hope you remember me telling you that bringing a Wagner in as a snitch was a bad move.”

  McNalley slapped the file on the desk. “God damn it, Wilson. First you shot a local homicide detective in the middle of a witness protection handoff.” He plopped back down in the swivel chair and spun, the wheezy creaking of the wheels making my splitting headache intensify. “And then you pick a fight with our lead witness—in a public diner, might I add. Not to mention you got zero information out of the guy before punching him in the face.”

  My annoyance from last night’s ballbuster to this morning’s fistfight boiled over to a point that I knew if I didn’t cut this office visit short I’d more than likely get slapped with suspension papers. And wouldn’t that just be the icing on the cake.

  I uncrossed my legs and slowly lumbered to a stand, pulling the brim of my hat down in the process. “Detective Cavanaugh was dirty.” I narrowed my eyes at the report on my boss’s desk. “The report I gave clearly states how he tried to kill Mr. Wagner.” The interrogation room’s door next to my boss’s glass office swung open and out walked Luke, all smug as usual. One corner of his mouth tugged up as he crunched his knuckles, looking in my direction. Gotta hand it to myself, I did a bang-up job on that fucker’s face. Yep, it sort of made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “Where are they taking Wagner?” I glared at his retreating back, really enjoying the fact he’d been taken off my hands.