I again looked over my shoulder. “Al right, Mr. Mason, I’m having a bad day. And I mean bad. You do not want to mess with me. Not today. Seriously.” Then I turned back around and banged on the partition and shouted, “Take me back to the goddamned bar!”

“Your father has fal en behind on his mortgage payments,” Preston Mason said and I stopped banging.

This, I knew without a doubt, was not a fortunate turn in the conversation.

Slowly, I turned around and looked at him.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I own his mortgage.”

Shitsofuckit.

“Mr. Mason, you know a lot about me so I’m guessing you know I haven’t spoken to my father in years. So I have to ask, this would mean something to me because…?” I prompted.

“Because your father has a lot of debt. Your mother’s been sick. He didn’t have insurance and she certainly didn’t. Chemotherapy costs a great deal when you’re too proud and too stupid to take Medicaid.”

Oh no.

No.

I didn’t just find out my mother had cancer and my father was too proud to help her out with government funded healthcare (which the stupid jerk would be) from Mace’s ass**le father.

Did I?

I stared at him.

And, for some reason, I knew he wasn’t lying.

Okay, it was safe to say my bad day just got worse.

My… fucking… shitty… luck.

I tilted my head back and looked at the ceiling of the limo.

Then I closed my eyes.

Then I sat back, crossed my arms and legs and looked out the window.

“Take me back to the bar,” I said quietly.

“I’l foreclose,” Preston Mason warned.

“No you won’t,” I told the window.

“Oh yes, Stel a, I wil .”

My head turned slowly and I looked at him. “No. You won’t. This morning Mace broke up with me.” I flicked out my hand. “Your whole scene was a waste of time. It’s over between us.”

He watched me closely, likely assessing my honesty.

I stared him straight in the eye.

Then I watched his face relax.

“Wel , that’s good news,” he said softly, the tips of his lips going up in a humorless smile.

How on this earth did Mace come from this man’s loins?

“Promise you won’t foreclose,” I demanded.

It was his turn to sit back but he looked relaxed and at-ease.

“Money’s money. They don’t pay, eventual y, they’l be –”

“You foreclose, I go after Mace.”

His brows drew together. “You just told me Kai broke up with you.”

“Mace broke up with me, yes. We had an argument. It was bad. But I’m under his skin. He told me so his damn self. You leave my parents alone; I’l just be a scar. You turn them out of their home, I’l start itching.” I uncrossed my arms and leaned toward him. “And, Mr. Mason, I’m an itch he likes to scratch.”

Mace’s father’s eyes moved over my face, my hair and down my torso. It took a lot out of me not to squirm but I held my body and gaze steady.

Final y, he said, “As long as I own the loan, I won’t foreclose.”

I wasn’t that stupid.

“You keep the loan for as long as my mother’s alive,” I returned.

“Stel a.”

“Something happens to them while she’s stil alive, you’l be staring at me during Thanksgiving dinner.” He muttered under his breath and I was pretty certain it was a curse word.

He hit a button and said into the car, “Jon, we’re taking Ms. Gunn back to the bar.”

It was my turn to smile a humorless smile.

* * * * *

We hit the outskirts of Evergreen before either of us spoke again. And it was me who broke the silence.

“You’re wrong,” I said, again staring out the window and not facing him.

“Yes? And how’s that?”

“Mace is a good man.”

I heard him laugh. It was as humorless as his smile.

I watched Evergreen slip by and saw The Little Bear.

There were black Explorers everywhere and my heart hurt a little to see Mace standing, hands at his h*ps on the wood little to see Mace standing, hands at his h*ps on the wood walk outside the bar with Tex, Lee, Hank, Hector, Eddie and my entire band standing with him.

Lee saw us first and jerked his chin at the limousine. I watched Mace turn and I noted two things immediately. The first, he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen in my life. The second, he was furious.

“You’re also right,” I went on quietly.

“And how’s that?” Preston Mason’s voice was also quiet and as I was turned away from him I didn’t notice his eyes were also locked on Mace.

The limousine slid to a stop but before it did, Mace was already at my door.

“I’m not good enough for him,” I whispered.

The door opened and Mace leaned in, his hand wrapped around mine and he yanked me out. My hand held firmly in his, he kept me at his side as he leaned back into the limo.

He pointed at his father and he said in a tone that sent chil s up my spine, “We’re not done.”

“Kai –” Preston Mason started but he didn’t get any further.

Mace slammed the door and pul ed me toward an Explorer.

I yanked at my hand. “Mace.”

He kept going.

I yanked again. “Mace.”

He stopped us at the passenger side door and pul ed it open. “Get in.”

I looked up at him then I noticed movement and saw that the limousine was stil there, Preston Mason had alighted and was watching us.

I felt my heart skip then squeeze then stop.

It wasn’t a good thing for your heart to stop. It hurt your whole body.

“Get in the car, Stel a,” Mace ordered.

I looked at him again and his voice rumbled in my brain.

This shit goes both ways. This doesn’t end until I know you won’t walk away but also you won’t let me walk away.

Never again.

I could get him back.

I needed you to make a statement, Kitten. You didn’t.

If I made a statement, I knew, I just knew, I could get him back.

Then his father’s voice came to me.

He’s responsible for his sister’s murder.

I didn’t believe that for a second.

What I did believe was that, whatever happened with his sister, Mace believed it.

At that moment al I needed to do was make a statement.

And making a statement put my Mom and Dad on the line.