His? Colt had ordered this watch over me? This was how he showed me that he cared? By ordering me under lock and key? I wanted to kiss him for caring, and yell at him for taking away my freedom. But I couldn't because he wasn't here and he never answered his G.o.dd.a.m.n phone. He had vanished from my life.

"If he wants to take care of me, he can start by picking up his f.u.c.king phone."

The last word came out as a sob. He was choosing not to belong in my life. It was his choice. But either way, I couldn't live with a prospect in my apartment constantly reminding me of him.

"You sure about that? The danger is over, but the prospects are there to make sure you have everything you need. The Kings will always be here for you, Krista. But this guard, it's a favor for him. Are you sure you want to give up on it?"

I wanted to throw the phone. I couldn't even break up with the guy in person. No, I had to do it through Tate. The Kings had been good to me, but I needed to be my own person. I needed to move on.

"Yeah. I want the prospects gone."

Chapter Forty-Three.

Krista I was three weeks late with rent and my landlord hadn't shown up to kick me out yet. I was feeling lucky. I had most of the cash, so I went to the bank to pick up the money order. Larry, the office guy, might accept a partial payment.

"Can you tell me my balance please?" I asked the teller.

She named an absurd amount of cash, and I groaned. There was no way I could have that much. The last time I had been to the bank, Robby had stolen my money. They'd obviously made a mistake.

"You sure you have the right account number?" I wrote it down for her.

The girl at the counter looked confused. "Yeah, looks like there was a big deposit about two weeks ago. But-it's weird, I can't see what account it came from. Let me get my manager. Why don't you go sit down in her office?"

Bank error in my favor? I sat and waited. Becky dug all of the purple lollipops out of the candy dish. If my bank account really had that amount, all of my troubles would be over.

"Miss?" The manager sat down across from me at her desk. "We've reviewed your account. Do you know who would have deposited ten thousand dollars last Wednesday? It was through an anonymous wire transfer."

I shrugged, confused. There was no way it was my cash. "It must have been a mistake."

The manager tapped on some keys and looked at my account. "I can only research it to the country of origin. Do you know anyone in Grand Cayman?"

I shook my head. "The Caribbean? No. I don't know anyone there."

The bank manager looked dubious. "The account is set up so I can't send the money back. Let's just put it on hold. We'll research it and let you know. If we can't contact the corporation who sent it, then it's yours."

So it wasn't my lucky day. The bank would research the charge, realize that deposit wasn't intended for me and the money would disappear. I laughed to myself about the cruelty of the world. For once my bank account was flush-I just couldn't use it.

I slipped the money order into the apartment office's drop box to dodge my landlord. It was only half of what I owed and they usually didn't accept a partial payment. Then I loaded Becky into the car and we headed off to Sat.u.r.day dance cla.s.s.

We were stopped at a red light when my phone buzzed. As always, my heart did a little leap. I looked down, hoping to see a California area code. But it was my landlord. d.a.m.n. They must have noticed I didn't pay all of my rent. My first big paycheck would be in on Monday-they would just have to wait until then. I sent the call to voice mail.

The light turned green and I hit the gas. Once I got Becky to dance cla.s.s, I'd figure out what to do, except my car didn't move. Well, it tried, but it just lurched and wouldn't accelerate. I coasted over to the shoulder.

I popped open the hood and looked. Of course, I had no idea what I was looking at. Nothing was on fire, no oil was gushing out of anything. My radiator used to overheat, but I'd gotten that fixed. Wiping my eyes, I stared again. It had to be something easy, something I could fix. I couldn't afford a mechanic and I needed my car. Getting to work would be hours on the bus.

"Hey, it's pretty hot. You probably shouldn't touch that," a voice said from behind me.

I s.n.a.t.c.hed my hand back and turned to find a prospect. The moment I had car trouble, a prospect happened to ride by? I didn't buy it.

"Roach?" I hoped that was his name.

He smiled and nodded, pleased that I'd remembered him.

"Tate never took you off security detail on me, did he?" I ignored my wreck of a car and crossed my arms over my chest.

Roach shrugged. "Tate said it wasn't his call. Look, why don't we get this towed back to the clubhouse? I'll have someone bring the truck and you can drive that."

Of course it wasn't Tate's call. Colt was the mastermind behind this security detail, but still wouldn't call me.

Then it hit me. Maybe Colt was the mastermind behind my back account mix-up. He'd said he liked to play the stock market. Didn't all of those traders keep their money offsh.o.r.e to avoid paying taxes?

I grabbed Roach's cut. "Does Colt have a bank account in the Caymans?"

He stepped back, out of my grasp. "I don't know anything about bank accounts. All I know is I'm supposed to stay out of sight and make sure you stay safe. That's all I know."

Covering my face with my hands, I held back the tears. Colt was trying to take care of me. But he didn't care enough to actually talk to me. Did he feel obligated because we'd slept together? Did he feel sorry for me?

Once I got a hold of myself, I squared my shoulders and faced Roach. There was no way I could pay for anything, but I couldn't take help from someone who didn't love me back.

"I'll have it towed to a garage and pay for my own repairs."

Senora Lopez met me at the garage. The rope marks on her wrists had long since faded, but I think she still blamed herself a little for letting Robby in her apartment. She was glad to pick up Becky and take her home. So it was just me sitting on the dirty old couch in the waiting room while they looked at my car. Finally, they were done and the mechanic explained how a transmission worked. Then he explained why mine didn't.

"So, your whole transmission is shot." He shrugged and handed me an invoice. "Or you sell us the car for sc.r.a.p. We'd pay you two hundred for it. You could walk out with a little cash in your pocket."

I would have tried to fix it myself, but I couldn't even afford the parts. Tate would probably pick up the tab for me. But I didn't want to lean on the club. I would do this on my own. I might have to give up a little bit of freedom, but I would keep my integrity.

I signed the t.i.tle over.

My shoulders were heavy as I left the auto shop. My first paycheck wasn't gonna begin to cover the cost of a new car and my rent. Even with my new job, loan payments would leave me in negative numbers at the end of the month.

I dragged my feet four blocks to the bus stop. There was no bench, so I sat on the curb next to the sign. I leaned my head against the post and waited.

A Harley rumbled behind me and my stupid heart jumped just a little. I knew it wasn't Colt, so I didn't bother looking up.

"Hey." Roach sat down next to me on the curb. "Where ya headed? I can give you a ride. Or get Tate's little truck?"

I shook my head. "No thanks. I'm just gonna go get the money that's owed to me."

Robby. I had an idea of where he had been staying before I went to the hospital. This would be the perfect opportunity to show up at his doorstep and get back what was mine. I was gonna demand that five grand he took from me.

Roach narrowed his eyes and c.o.c.ked his head. "What do you mean? What money?"

Before I could explain, the bus rumbled up and Roach had to hurry to move his bike. I scrambled up the steps and the bus left Roach in a cloud of exhaust. I didn't need the prospect to fight my battles for me. I could do this on my own.

It took over an hour and three buses to get to the little trailer where Robby was staying. I knocked on the door.

A brunette answered. "What do you want?" She was in tattered pajamas and her left eye was twitching. This was definitely Robby's kinda place.

"I'm Robby's ex. I'm looking for him. Got something for him." I smiled. "Have you seen him?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Don't know him. The chick who lived here before, she used to rent rooms, but she overdosed a couple of months back. He must have been one of hers. Either way, he's gone now." She slammed the door.

I had no clue where he could be. Turning to head down the steps, I saw a Harley and a brown truck. Of course. The prospect had followed me, and this time he brought Tate as well.

Groaning, I walked over to them. Might as well get this over with.

"Hey." Tate jogged up to me. "What're you doing on this side of town?"

I shrugged. "Robby owes me money, so I thought I'd come looking for him."

Running his hand through his beard, Tate looked around. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Robby is dead."

"What?" I frowned. I didn't remember much from what went down in the warehouse, in fact I was trying to forget most of it. I remembered telling Becky to run, but Robby had been very much alive then. "What happened?"

Tate patted my shoulder. "I'm sorry. Robby's dead. That's all I can really say."

It hit me like a blow to the chest, and I knew. "Colt killed him, didn't he? At the warehouse?" I was surprised to discover I was crying.

Tate grimaced. "It's club business, that's all I can say."

Which meant yes. The man I loved had killed my ex-husband.

I started walking back toward the bus stop. I had loved Robby at one point. It was a stupid, childish, teenage infatuation, but it was still a form of love. When he started doing meth, I moved out and I mourned his life then. Now I was mourning the idea of, what? My ex reforming himself into a decent person? Even without drugs, Robby hadn't been very nice.

"Krista?" Tate caught up to me. "Look, I know you don't want any help. But it's getting dark and this is a s.h.i.tty side of town. At least let me give you a ride home. Okay?"

I looked around. The sun had already set and it would be dark soon. The trailers and low-income housing looked menacing in the remaining shadows. One ride home wouldn't be leaning on the club too much. I nodded and climbed into the truck with Tate.

Colt had killed Robby. Did Colt feel sorry about what he did? Truth be told, I was a little relieved. I was sorry that Robby had lost his life. I was sorry that Colt had to kill someone-that must have been emotionally heart-wrenching. But I wasn't sorry that Robby would be gone forever. I didn't have to fear that he would show up unannounced somewhere, like Becky's school, and try to shake me down for money. Or h.e.l.l, use me as collateral for some sort of drug deal.

We pulled up in front of my apartment and I got out. "Hey, Tate," I said through the open window. "I don't care if it's his call-no more prospects. Okay? I'm out."

Turning my back to him, I headed home. Alone.

Two days later, I'd just picked Becky up from Senora Lopez's house when I noticed a well-dressed man sitting on our front porch. I tightened my grip on Becky's hand and considered my options. But then Roach stepped out onto the porch and waved to me. The two men met us in the parking lot.

"Hi, ma'am. I'm Adam from Evergreen Auto Dealership. Congratulations on your new vehicle." The guy smiled and handed me a key. It was sleek, with b.u.t.tons and a fob with more b.u.t.tons. I ran my fingers over them.

I turned to Roach. "Why is Colt doing this?"

Roach shrugged. "Because you're his old lady. That's what guys do, right? They buy their old ladies things. You needed a car, so he bought one."

I fingered the key. I wanted it so much. I wanted to put the key into the ignition and hear the purr of an engine that was reliable. That didn't burn oil, that didn't overheat in the summer.

"He has to ask me, Roach. Don't you get it? He has to tell me that he loves me, or at the very least talk to me before I can be his old lady."

The prospect shrugged and Adam shoved his hands in his pockets. It wasn't fair to be frustrated with these guys, when Colt was the one who was doing all of this. I looked down that the keys.

"Is there paperwork for this vehicle?" I asked the man from the dealership.

"Yes, ma'am. It's in the vehicle. Would you like to take a look?"

Adam opened up all the doors of a small yellow SUV. Becky climbed in and began to crawl around. I tried not to look, but it was fully loaded. Power everything, even a sunroof. He popped open the glove compartment and took out a t.i.tle and bill of sale.

The owner of the vehicle was listed as the Law Offices of Gerald Englestein.

Not even his name. He didn't even care enough to put his name on the t.i.tle. I just wanted one tangible thing that said it was from him. One thing that said he cared. Money magically appearing in my account and a car showing up were all nice. But they weren't personal. They weren't him.

I shook my head. "Becky, come on out of there." I handed the keys back to Adam. "I'm sorry you had to come all the way out."

"Oh, um, there's one more thing." Adam retrieved an envelope from the glove compartment.

It was a letter, on official stationery from the lawyer's office.

Ms. Forrester, My client hopes you approve of the color. However, he enjoys when you change your mind. You may exchange it for anything of your liking.

Sincerely, Gerald Englestein, esq.

Yellow. Right before we made love the very first time, I had told him I changed my mind and my favorite color was yellow.

The signature on the letter started to blur. He'd thought of me.

I smiled as tears ran down my cheeks. "I'll take it."

Forty thousand dollars was now on hold in my account, courtesy of anonymous wire transfers. It was just sitting, available if I needed it. After the car, the only logical thought was that the money belonged to Colt. But he wasn't there. There was no personal contact, no phone calls. Not even a text. I used to check my phone every hour, hoping for something. But now I put it in my desk at work and only answered if I heard the ringtone for Becky's school.

I put away the last file and shoved the filing drawer closed. Quitting time.

"We'll see you at the restaurant soon, right?" Karen, the office manager, always invited me out for drinks. She was newly divorced and drank a lot. I went once on my first week, but I liked to go straight home. I would spend the evening with Becky and be in bed by ten. Tonight I had decided to let my hair down and go out with Karen.

"Sure. I'll be there in a minute." I smiled and waved goodbye to the rest of the girls from the office.

It wasn't that my life was boring, it was just different. I worked Monday through Friday, which was new. When Becky was out of school on the weekends, I was able to play with her and take her places. I wore flats to work-never high heels-and no one said a word. Robby never stopped by to shake me down for cash. The only thing missing was the club.