Page 50 of Unbound

Right up until everything went tits up.

“One day, I showed up for work and the doors were locked. The pricks who owned the company had run it into the ground and the bank took possession of everything.” I remember the looks on the faces of the guys I worked with. Men who had wives and kids and mortgages. “We had a whole list of clients who’d already paid, and I couldn’t leave everyone hanging.” I shrug. “So I picked up where they left off. Hired the people I worked with and made sure everyone got what they were supposed to.”

Sybil’s eyes narrow on me as her head tilts. “What do you mean, got what they were supposed to?”

I scratch at the skin of my cheek, digging through my beard at an itch that isn’t really there. “The people who worked for the company didn’t deserve to miss out on income because two dicks had a gambling problem.”

Sybil studies me for a second. Like if she stares long enough she might uncover what I’m trying to hide.

And maybe she will.

Her voice is soft when she asks, “You paid everyone with your own money, didn’t you?”

I lift one shoulder. “It wasn’t a big deal. I had it. Didn’t lose anything by giving it to them.”

Sybil takes a step closer to me, bringing the front of her body to meet mine. “Walker, I⁠—”

“Walker, I need to know why the fuck you just fired one of your—” Trevor storms into my office—as much as he can storm on crutches—coming to a wobbly stop when his eyes land on where Sybil and I are standing entirely too close together, my hands bracketing her face. “Hell.” He turns around, the movement awkward and ungraceful. “Never mind. I figured it out.”

I should stop him. Explain that this isn’t what it looks like. But the reminder of Caleb and his bullshit has my blood boiling again. Has me thinking things I have no business thinking.

Wanting things I have no business wanting.

Like if Sybil was mine, she wouldn’t have to worry about pricks like him bothering her. She wouldn’t have to be afraid of the men who are after her. She’d sure as fuck drink enough water and get enough sleep.

And wouldn’t have a dry spell unless she wanted it.

16

Sybil

“Idon’t think this is a good idea.” I’ve said it at least a million times since we left Walker’s house in his side-by-side, but I’m not above saying it a million more as we walk to Deidre Bradshaw’s front door. Especially if it will get me out of this. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m not family.”

Plus, Maren made it very clear she and the rest of the friend group I knew would never be mine are keeping their eyes on me.

I don’t blame them. All things considered, I am pretty sus. Especially since they figured out about my little crush on Walker. That probably makes everything else look even worse and makes them question my motives even more.

They aren’t the only ones. I’ve been doing a bit of that myself. Yet another reason why it’s probably not a good idea for me to be here tonight. I’m feeling a little lost after the past few days, and questioning the direction I want my life to go. I’m pretty sure it’s not going to be spent sitting in front of a computer chasing down ghosts and looking for things that might not even be there.

At least not unless I can find someone who wants to pay me to do that.

“Here’s the problem with that theory.” Walker carries a case of beer in one hand and rests the other on my back as he urges me to continue moving forward. “My aunt made it very clear she expected to see you tonight. And if you aren’t here, she will come find you.”

“I highly doubt that. She has way more important things to do than track me down.” Deidre has a literal houseful of family tonight. Her sons. Their wives and girlfriends. And grandchildren I’m positive will consume the majority of her attention.

“You obviously haven’t spent enough time around Deidre Bradshaw if you think she would ever miss the opportunity to meddle in someone else’s life.” Walker removes his hand from my back long enough to open the door, standing to one side and jerking his chin toward the entryway. “And you might want to put a little pep in your step, because we’re late. We’re probably starting this night on her shit list.”

I’d like to point out that I’m fairly confident I already occupy the number one spot on Deidre Bradshaw’s shit list, but I should probably try to keep that fact out of my mind since I have to spend the rest of the evening in her company. With a resigned sigh, I pass Walker, doing my best not to stomp as I walk inside.

The house is beautiful, which isn’t surprising. She’s freaking Deidre Bradshaw. If I wasn’t terrified of her, I’d probably try to sneak and take a few pictures to send to my mom. I don’t talk to her often, but I do try to keep some semblance of a relationship with her. If for no other reason than so she’ll tell me stories about my dad.

But getting caught taking photos of the Bradshaw estate would be the worst possible thing that could happen to me right now. I know Heidi has vouched for me, but Maren made it pretty freaking clear today she wasn’t willing to blindly believe a woman she’d never met in person.

So I’m still a suspect in most of the family’s eyes.

And maybe Walker’s too, which is the part that really annoys me.

I don’t realize I’ve slowed down until Walker’s pressing my back again, trying to get me to move my feet faster. And it’s probably not a bad idea. Maybe I can just keep moving them right out the other side of the house. I’m sure I’d be able to walk back to his house.