Only B Diggs had a different idea of how to deal with Andre’s betrayal. With the help of Shantayle’s father, T-Loc Jones, B Diggs tortured Andre to get intel on his drug business. They also got him to admit how he harassed Shantayle.
They’d forced Shantayle to watch and see how her loyalty to the gang was rewarded. They insisted she was an accomplice in Andre’s punishment, which planted her firmly in the gang’s world of criminal activity.
They hadn’t counted on Shantayle’s resistance to gang life. B Diggs had pimped her mother out to T-Loc to honor the man’s loyalty to the gang, and the result was Shantayle, who had no doubt that she faced a similar fate to her mother, a shell of a woman who was tied to a mean man and a life that was bound to kill her.
Bailee’s conversation with Shantayle resulted in the young girl becoming her confidential informant. Shantayle agreed to help bring down the gang from the inside with the promise that once the LPD could close the case, they would help her go into hiding, to escape the life she was born into but wanted no part of.
Shantayle’s intel proved to be invaluable to the LPD. Bailee and her team were able to hit the Blood Disciples hard, andsomehow the young girl managed to stay under B Diggs’ radar. The man never suspected her involvement with law enforcement until Shantayle uncovered something that got her killed and turned Bailee’s world upside down.
With the help of streetlamps and her eyes growing accustomed to the dark, Bailee was able to spot Gran’s house in the distance. She slowed her pace until she was walking to cool down from the intense run.
She crossed the street at an angle to head for the front yard. Her foot landed on an uneven portion of the pavement. The unexpected shift in the terrain had her shoe tilting to compensate, turning her ankle and wrecking her balance.
Sudden pain shot up Bailee’s leg, and she struggled to remain upright and not face-plant on the pavement. Since she was closer to the sidewalk than to the yard, she hobbled back and lowered herself to the concrete underneath a streetlamp.
Roxy crowded around her, sensing something was up, and Bailee impatiently pushed her to the side, murmuring words of reassurance to the pet. Hissing through the pain, she studied her throbbing ankle. Already, the joint showed signs of bruising and puffiness. She didn’t think she’d broken anything, but the sprain was painful enough to make walking a challenge.
She waited for the pain to ease to a dull ache. Then she carefully stood, balancing her weight on her good ankle. The distance to Gran’s house wasn’t far, but when she tried stepping forward using her injured ankle, the pain was enough to make the distance feel more like miles instead of yards.
The sound of a motor shattered the quiet around her, and only a moment passed before headlights beamed in herdirection. She hadn’t expected to come across a motorist in the quiet neighborhood where the residents rolled up the sidewalks once the streetlights came on. Hurrying to Gran’s house before the vehicle reached her wasn’t an option, but she didn’t like standing there, alone and obviously hurt, when a stranger drove by.
The vehicle was close, and she positioned herself behind Roxy to wait. She hadn’t bothered to leash the dog because Roxy never ventured far from her side. Now she wished she had a harness or a leash for Roxy to have something to hold on to and ensure the dog stayed between her and anyone who might stop.
She held her breath, one hand resting on Roxy’s fur and the other ready to reach for her knife. The vehicle drew close. Her heart started to pound when she realized it was slowing as it approached.
“Keep going,” she whispered to herself as she watched. “Keep going.”
Only it didn’t. She could see now that it was a Jeep, dark in color, and it slowed down enough to swing onto the driveway of the house next to Gran’s and stopped.
Chapter Five
Easton felt a familiar sense of relief when he turned his Jeep into the subdivision heading toward his house. Though he clung to his bachelorhood with both hands, his choice for a home didn’t fit his player image.
His two-story house offered more space than he needed, with three bedrooms, two baths, a great room, and a state-of-the-art kitchen. The lawn was expertly manicured, the front porch painting a homey picture with a swing and two roomy chairs that invited lazy lounging and good conversation.
The neighborhood was filled with families and older people who had lived there more years than he’d been alive. He was the youngest resident in the subdivision. The closest to him in age was a husband and wife in their forties with five kids spanning elementary school to college age.
When the sun went down, his neighbors stayed secure in their modest homes. Their lights went out at a decent hour in anticipation of an early morning of heading to work and school. The houses were dark and quiet for several hours by the time Easton carried his exhausted self home from the bar.
He wasn’t an obvious fit for this neighborhood, but he loved it. His neighbors were kind. They looked out for each other and helped when needed. He pitched in when he could, helping mowand care for the lawns of those who physically couldn’t tackle the manual labor. In return, those who lived around him watched his house when he went out of town.
After a shift at the bar, he came home tired but too keyed up to sleep. The quiet of the neighborhood soothed him. He felt a peace living there that he’d rarely experienced in his life.
That peace dissipated when he turned onto his street, and the beam of his headlights illuminated a couple of figures ahead. As he drew closer, several impressions struck him at once.
I’ve never seen her before. She’s packing, small caliber, ankle holster. Damn, she’s gorgeous. That dog is huge. She shouldn’t be out alone this late at night. She’s hurt. Where did she come from?
He ran a hand through his disheveled hair as his Jeep drew closer to his house. With smooth motions, he steered the Jeep onto the driveway and cut the engine. Tilting his head up, he caught the image of the woman in his rearview mirror. Hair pulled away from her forehead, the back curling around her face and neck. A loose tank top dropped to the top of thighs encased in clingy spandex leggings. The dog blocked his view of anything else, but he didn’t need a clear view to know she was curvy and sexy and someone he wanted to meet.
Stepping from the Jeep, he stood a few moments in his driveway, studying the neighborhood briefly before his gaze landed on her.
“Hi.” He spoke loud enough for his voice to reach her, but he tried to keep the volume low so as not to disturb his neighbors.
“Hi.” Even her voice was sexy, husky, and soft.
“Everything okay?” The awkward small talk had him grinning. This had to be the oddest situation he’d ever been in, and he’d had his fair share of weird situations.
“Just fine. Thank you.” She waved as if bidding him farewell.
