“You’re really not giving me a ticket?” she asked in a small voice.
“I’m really not.”
She let out a relieved sigh. That would save her from her aunt’s wrath.
“Everything okay, sweetheart?” he asked. “Are you all right driving home alone?”
“Oh yes, I’m fine.”
“You’ve got a cell phone? It’s charged?”
These were weird questions for a cop to ask, right? Maybe it was a country thing. She’d only ever lived in cities before now.
“Ah, yes, I do.” Her aunt had given her one of her old cell phones. But it only had a small amount of credit on it. Her aunt liked her to have it on her so she could call her when she needed her. It was a wonder she hadn’t already called to see where Marisol was.
“Good. You shouldn’t be driving around at night alone without a phone. Keep the doors locked and drive straight home, understand?”
“Yes, sir.” It slipped out automatically even as she tried to work out why he cared.
“Good girl. Good night, Marisol.”
“Good night, sir.”
“Call me Ed. Nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”
Lord, she really hoped not.
2
Marisol pulled up around the back of her aunt’s house with a sigh of relief.
She never thought she’d be happy to get home. Not that this was her home. It was Rosalind’s house. Never hers. Which was just as well since this house was butt ugly.
It was enormous. Way too much space for just the two of them. Although she was grateful that it had just been the two of them lately. The last place they’d lived in, her aunt’s boyfriend had been around a lot. As had his friends. When that happened, Marisol usually hid in her bedroom with the dresser across the door and her headphones on, losing herself in a book.
The next morning, she’d wake up to a mess she was expected to clean up. Because God forbid that Rosalind ever tidy up her own mess.
That would never happen.
Her stomach dropped as she walked through the garage and saw the big black truck with red flames along the side sitting there.
Mierda!
Saber was here.
Stupid ass name for a total asshole. Her aunt’s longtime boyfriend. So longtime that she’d been seeing him throughout her past two marriages. Rosalind was a serial trophy wife. She liked them old and super-rich. The man she’d been married to when Marisol first came to live with her had been her favorite. Harrison.
Unfortunately, he’d divorced Rosalind when Marisol was only seven. She wished she could have stayed with him. She’d begged her aunt to leave her with him, she’d cried for him every night for weeks. He’d been the only father she’d ever known. Her own father had abandoned them before she was even born. And her mama had died when she was four.
Harry had always been there for her. When it was her first day of school, he’d taken her. When she broke her arm falling out of a tree, he’d rushed her to the emergency room. When he’d learned one of the girls at school was bullying her, he’d marched down to the school and taken care of it.
Life would have been much different if Rosalind had stayed with Harry. Or left Marisol with him.
But after Harry, Rosalind had moved onto greener pastures. Each time, she’d gotten a divorce or her husband died, she’d ended up richer. Which is why Marisol had been surprised when Rosalind told her she was opening a beauty spa. Rosalind didn’t exactly like to work. Now she had five beauty spas in four different states.
Not that she worked anyway. No, she liked to sit and direct. They’d moved around a lot these past few years. From Texas to Arizona to California and now they were here. In Montana. But weirdly, Rosalind hadn’t chosen a big city this time. Her a
unt wasn’t a country sort of person. She liked to be somewhere she could flaunt her wealth.