“I’ll text you all the info to access my email accounts on Monday. We’ll start there for now. We don’t need to see each other, just texts and phone calls. Got it?”
She’s silent for almost ten seconds before she manages to acknowledge me. “Got it, Spencer. I’ll talk to you Monday then.”
“Right. Oh, and Ronnie?”
“Yeah?” she comes back with some hope in her voice.
“I think you should date that banker. If he’s still interested, that is. Because I had Ford check him out, and he’s a good guy. I’d like for you to find yourself a good guy, Ronnie. So if I’ve screwed anything up, I’m sorry. Maybe try and explain I’m just a dick and you’re done with me.”
This time when she answers I know she’s crying. She manages an, “OK,” and then the phone beeps three times and the call is over.
“Shit, Shrike,” Carson says from his perch on my crappy desk. “That was f**ked up.”
“She’ll get over it, Reed. Just do your part and I’ll do mine. You got an idea what you want? Because I really do have to meet Carla soon.”
Carson shakes his head at me. “What the hell? Why are you seeing other girls if you love the Bombshell?”
I sigh. “Carla and I go line-dancing on Thursday nights. Ronnie loves to line-dance but I’ve never gone with her because I just can’t afford to be seen with her in public like that. But soon, I will be dating her, Carson. Soon. So I’m getting ready for that day. Carla offered to teach me and every Thursday night we practice at the Sundance Saloon. Fridays, I hang out with Renee from the Cat Call. I watch the strippers so people think I’m available. And Renee is the bartender. She flirts with me and I keep an extra eye out for her when the bar gets crazy. They have shit bouncers over there. Saturdays I hang out with Kim from the Broomfield Harley store. She’s on a bowling league down there. Ronnie’s brothers have a bowling league up here in FoCo. And as soon as life settles down, I’m in. I want to insert myself into Ronnie’s life. I want to be accepted by her family and I figure bowling with them is a good way to do that.”
Carson laughs a little. “So you’re not f**king any other girls?”
“Hell the f**k no. I haven’t had a bit of f**king fun since New Year’s when I saw Ronnie last. This trial shit, Carson—this trial shit is big f**king time. These people are not playing around. My friends and I are in deep, man. I do not have time to f**k, or drink, or worry about shit like that. Hell, I barely have time to think about the show.”
“You really do love her?” He looks at me hard now. Like he’s changing his opinion of me on the spot.
“I really do. But by the time I get my chance to tell her, she might not love me back.”“Well, f**k. I really had no clue.”
“That’s how it has to stay, Reed. You got it? No one can know I love her. No one. Did you see what happened to Rook Corvus last fall?”
Carson nods his head. “Yeah, I felt sorry for her.”
“Well, my Ronnie will not survive that. OK? She won’t. I cannot have those filthy reporters following her around like animals, trying to ruin her life and make her freak out for the cameras. Rook has no ties to anyone but us. She was easy to protect. Ronnie has all kinds of family. There are so many ways to get to her. So many people she loves who can be hurt to get even. I need to keep her and her entire family safe.”
He nods at me. “OK, then. I get it. I’m in.”
“In?”
“Yeah, I’m in. I’ll keep your secret for you, Shrike. I’m in. I don’t know the whole story and frankly, I do not care. But what you guys did last fall… that was some brave shit. Those ass**les all need to go to jail. So if keeping my eye on Ronnie helps you finish them off, you can count on me.”
I let out a long breath.
I am one lucky motherfucker.
Not because I got away with murder.
Not because I have a TV show.
Not because I came from a good family or was well-educated, or because I can build bikes or paint naked girls.
I’m a lucky guy because I have friends.
And I’m gonna need every single one of them, because the shit is about to get ugly.