Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 73192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I’d seen that before.
Hell, everyone had seen that before.
Nobody ever knew what to do about it, though.
“And when he couldn’t convince you not to go, he found the only way he could to make you stay,” I guessed.
Reagan smiled then. “He fucked up, though. Softball gave me an outlet and without that, I was forced to focus on what was wrong with our relationship—which was everything. When I was in the hospital and my parents were at my bedside, I told Dusty that I no longer wanted to see him anymore and that he needed to leave. When he refused to go, I told him that I’d hated him for a very long time and that this was the last straw. My dad, I think, was dumbfounded, but he made him leave.”
“Your dad thought you were busy with school and softball. You saw him enough not to make him as worried as we were,” Janie said softly.
So softly that I barely heard her over the drone of the bar surrounding us.
“Well, then I put on a pretty good show. Thank God I’d started school, though,” she murmured. “I graduated, despite Dusty constantly hounding me to take him back. Got a job. Got some experience. Tried to go out on dates…that were ruined by Dusty every single time.”
“I’m surprised we haven’t seen him around here before now,” Janie admitted. “I’d hoped by inviting you down here that he wouldn’t be able to find you for a while, but I didn’t think it’d last this long.”
I sat back in my chair. “Why don’t you have a restraining order against him?”
“I was wondering the same goddamn thing,” Rafe finally added his two cents.
He looked pissed…just as pissed as I was.
Parker, Coke, and Johnny’s faces wore the same expression as Rafe and I, while Cora and June exchanged looks that conveyed just how disturbed they were by this information.
“I tried—multiple times—and so did my dad. But unfortunately, Dusty is the son of Judge Rhymes.”
I groaned.
Judge Rhymes was so fucking crooked that it hurt to hear his name half the time.
I honestly wasn’t sure how in the hell he kept getting elected. His smug face was enough to stop me from voting for him – and that was before I even took his dirty reputation into consideration.
Then again, the populace who voted for him didn’t see it when all the hard work that police officers did on investigations only for Judge Rhymes to throw entire cases out because he felt that those defendants had suffered enough.
The judge was a goddamn joke.
“Fucccck,” I drawled.
The table agreed with my sentiments.
“Well, that fuckin’ sucks,” Coke added. “I had to deal with that bastard during my divorce. If I didn’t have such a good lawyer, my ex-wife would’ve taken me to the cleaners.”
Cora snorted. “Why does that not surprise me?”
It didn’t surprise anyone. Coke’s ex-wife was a bitch and would’ve cleaned him out of house and home just on general principle.
“He let a man who beat the shit out of his wife go with just a warning,” I murmured. “I found as much evidence on that scum bag as I could and presented a rock-solid case to the district attorney. This was a slam dunk, open and shut case and that bastard waltzes in, asks him if he’s sorry for what he did. When the man said that he was, the judge pretended to listen to everything, only to rule in favor of the man. That same man then went home and beat the shit out of his wife that night, killing her. Judge Rhymes only shrugged when he was asked about it on the local news.”
“That sounds like him,” Reagan said. “If I had any idea whatsoever what kind of family they were and what kind of man had raised Dusty, I would’ve run. But Dusty’s dad tries to balance it out for appearances by handing down a few good rulings once in a while. It’s just enough that people aren’t sure if he’s really dirty or not. My dad and I spoke about it at length once while I was about a year into my relationship with Dusty. He told me the rumors, then let me make my own decision. I, obviously, made the wrong one.”
I bumped her with my shoulder. “You want another beer?”
She wiggled her empty glass at me. “No, but I’ll take another margarita.”
She held out a ten-dollar bill when I stood and I rolled my eyes and walked away. “Consider this one your birthday present from me.”
I had ulterior motives for walking up to the bar.
Mostly that motive was centered around the douche bag still sitting at the bar, turned around in his seat and staring at our table.
Reagan was positioned so that she couldn’t see him, but I sure the fuck could.
He didn’t stop staring at her and the way she was pressed up against me as close as I could get her, until after we sat down.