Page 56 of Don't Burn Bridges
Her pulse jumped, and she spun toward the open doorway, her gaze darting across the parking lot. The morning had started quietly, but that could change in an instant. It wouldn't take much for someone driving by the motel to notice an unfamiliar man walking into her room. In a town the size of Hazard Falls, strangers drew attention, and the last thing she needed was someone deciding that she'd had one man leave only to invite another inside minutes later.
She closed the door with more force than necessary and spun around, crossing her arms and glaring at him.
“How'd I find you?” He snorted. “Your truck's sitting out in the parking lot.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, you mean how'd I find you in this little shit town?”
A careless shrug followed. “Your private investigator mailed you a final report. You'd already skipped town, so I opened it. Didn't take long to figure out where to track you down after that.”
Her stomach twisted, and a wave of nausea followed.
Something in her expression must have betrayed her, because Troy's grin widened. “Yeah,” he said. “Must have been a big surprise, huh? Turns out you're related to some rich rancher out here in butt-fuck, Kansas. Who would’ve thought?”
He wandered to the bed, grabbed the rumpled comforter, and flipped it over the sheets, covering the evidence that Seth had spent the night. Then he dropped onto the mattress, swung his feet up, and leaned back against the headboard as though he'd paid for the room himself.
“Now, as for what I want...” He spread his hands. “Come on, Shy. I think that's pretty obvious.”
He sniffled again.
“I want my cut of your inheritance.” He tilted his head toward her. “I'm guessing that's why you're here. Dear old Dad didn't leave you a damn thing, did he? Sounds like my sperm donor.”
Just minutes ago, she'd been wishing for a few more days.
Staring at Troy, she had a feeling she'd run out of time.
Chapter 21
Shylo remained where she was, refusing to move any closer to the bed. Troy had already made the small motel room feel cramped simply by occupying it. The scent of stale cigarettes clung to his clothes beneath whatever cheap body spray he'd used to cover it, and every time he sniffled and flicked his nose, she became more convinced he'd spent part of the morning with cocaine. It wouldn't have been the first time. Probably wouldn't be the last.
She leaned against the worn dresser. “You don't have any claim to my inheritance.”
He smirked as if she'd said something amusing. “Says who?”
“The law, for starters.”
His eyes rolled. “The law's never done much for me.”
No kidding. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd watched him get hauled away in handcuffs before finally accepting he would never change. According to Troy, every arrest had been someone else's fault, every lost job the result of an idiot boss, and every eviction the landlord's problem instead of his. Taking responsibility for anything had never been one of Troy's strengths.
“You're not getting a dime,” she said. “Peter Wilson wasn't your father.”
“No, he wasn’t.” Troy scratched at the stubble along his jaw. “But he was yours.”
“That doesn't make his estate yours.”
He shrugged. “Doesn't matter. You get paid, I get paid.”
“No, it doesn't work that way.” Frustration crept into her voice. “Whatever happened between Peter and Mom had nothing to do with you. If I have any claim at all, it's because I'm his child. You're not.”
His expression never changed, as though she'd wasted thirty seconds explaining the obvious to a child.
She stared at him, wondering how two people raised by the same woman could have turned out so differently. Then again, she'd spent most of her life trying not to become Troy. Maybe that had made all the difference.
“The estate's already been settled,” she said, deciding there was no point hiding facts he could verify himself. “Years ago. Peter's will left everything to Shane. Legally, there's nothing waiting for me.”
“Then why are you still here?”
The question caught her off guard. She searched for a believable lie, but Troy had spent their entire childhood spotting her tells when she tried to bluff. If she hesitated too long, he'd know she was hiding something.
“I've been trying to figure Shane out,” she admitted, choosing each word with care. “Whether he'll fight me if I challenge the estate.”
