Page 17 of Renegade Rift
“I was just thinking—and maybe it’s a terrible idea—but maybe we should hear Ford out.”
My head jerks back, and my mouth falls open. She can’t be serious. “And why would we do that? Weren’t you the one who basically just told him he could go kick rocks?”
“I did. And I’ll do it every day until forever because you’re my best friend.” She reaches out her hand and places it on top of where mine sits on my thigh. “But because you’re my best friend, I feel like I should also bring up that he might be able to help you.”
“No,” I snap, snatching my hand to my chest. “Absolutely not. Call it self-preservation. Or maybe it’s pure stubborn spite. But I will never put myself in the situation to depend on a man again.”
“I know but?—”
“No.” My lip trembles, but my words have the strength of a brick wall. “I’ll find another way. I’ll clean more or pick up more hours at the bar, but I will never put myself in that situation again.”
That she’d even suggest it pisses me off. Paige is the only one who knows the whole story. She saw me when I was at my lowest and stuck around. She picked up the pieces Tyler left behind.
After the crash, I was a mess. I didn’t know up from down or what I was supposed to do without him. I didn’t want him back. I still don’t. My life was so dependent on Tyler and his rules that I didn’t know who I was anymore. The idea of being my own person—waking up every day and making my own decisions—terrified me.
It still does. And that was before Saul’s guys showed up, demanding the debt Tyler owed them. Before they threatened to ruin everyone I love if I didn’t produce the money.
Now I’m tangled up in Tyler’s web of lies and deceit while trying to figure out where I go from here. I love that I have Paige at my side, but I have no issue walking away if she presses this.
Paige moves slowly, like she’s afraid I’m a flight risk. She offers me her hand.
I contemplate taking it for a split second, before immediately entwining my fingers with hers.
A sigh of relief escapes her, followed by a string of apologies. There’s regret in her eyes, but not an ounce of pity.
It’s exactly what I need from her to solidify that she means it when she says she’s on my side. “I know you’re just trying to help.”
“I am.” She nods and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “But that doesn’t mean it was the right thing to say. I just…I wish I could help.”
“I know,” I say, returning the gesture. “But as it is, I hate that they can connect me to you.”
She has been there more than once when one of Saul’s cronies shows up to collect. Not only that, but even though there’s no public record of me working here, they know. I’d be naïve to think they haven’t figured out who Paige is.
“ThatI won’t apologize for.” Hard lines crease her brow. “I might not be able to help get you out of the situation, but there isn’t a single part of me that isn’t happy to bear witness to your fucked up life and remind you that you are more than your experiences.” She pulls her hand from mine and grabs the folder for my next client off the desk. “You’re Etta fucking Cruz and even though you’re stubborn as shit, you’re going to make it past this. And I’m going to be by your side. Plus.” She leans in close and whispers. “If they decide to kill you in some kind of mafia-esque hit, someone has to know where to start looking for the body.”
I snatch the file from her hands and chuckle. “Morbid.”
“I know.” She gives me a stoic grin, hand pressed across her chest. “But someone has to bear the burden.”
“You’ve been listening to too many true crime podcasts.”
“What can I say?” She shrugs, her wild red curls bouncing on her shoulders. “I’m intrigued by the morally gray.”
“And yet you’re engaged to a doctor.”
“Maybe he’s a doctor by day and a plastic surgeon for the cartel by night.”
“I cannot with you.” I shake my head and flip through the file, mentally calculating that if I do this cleaning and pick up a few more hours at the bar tonight, I can make up for what I lost from the Row. All together, it should be enough to make my next payment.
With a game plan in mind, I close the file and push back my chair, standing. I give Paige a mock salute. “And on that note, I’m off.”
“Hey,” she hollers before the door clicks behind me. “Don’t knock the morally gray until you try it.”
I don’t bother responding. We both know her fiancé wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone be attached to the cartel. Plus, even if she’s right,I’ve had enough of questionable men for one lifetime.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JULIET
