his shoulder, making for the door as she started screaming. “He’s a liar! He’ll use you and throw you away, but not before he’s pimped you out to all his friends, Tinker Garrett! That’s what they do! He’ll use your business as a front for running drugs, and when you get caught he’ll laugh while you go to jail! The Reapers are a bunch of fucking cowards and—”
Gage pushed through the door, and while I could still hear her screeching, the words were garbled. Blinking slowly, I looked around the bar to find half the town staring at me. Then Daisy Wasserman slid into the booth across from me, reaching over to catch my hand, giving it a squeeze.
“You okay, Tinker?” she asked, her face worried. I frowned, trying to decide if I was or not.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Did that just happen? Like, for real? Who does that?”
Daisy sighed. “Yeah, that was definitely for real. Talia Jackson has to be the trashiest woman I’ve ever met. Why she and her brother had to pick our little town, I’ll never understand. Things were so much better before they got here. You’re shaking.”
Holding out a hand, I realized she was right. The fingers were trembling like I’d just . . . well, like I’d just been randomly attacked in a bar.
“I want to go home,” I said, my face burning. It was like the grocery store all over again—why did things like this keep happening to me? I was a nice person. I baked things and paid my taxes. My credit score was excellent, and yet here we were again. Publicly humiliated.
“You need a ride?” Daisy asked.
“I should probably find Gage,” I said, trying to clear my thoughts. From outside I heard Talia screaming at him, and shuddered at the thought of going out there. “No, I changed my mind—I’ll have to talk to him later because this is more than I can deal with right now. Can you give me a ride? I don’t have a car here, and I’m not really sober enough to drive anyway.”
“Sure,” Daisy said, smiling reassuringly. “Want me to ask Jack if we can go out through the kitchen? I’m parked back there.”
Talia screamed outside, and I heard Gage shouting back at her, like something on a bad reality show.
“That would be great,” I said, digging through my bag for some cash. Pulling out three twenties, I set them in the center of the table, then sent Gage a quick text.
ME: Sorry. This is too crazy so I caught a ride home. Let’s talk another time, okay? I had a good time but I don’t want to be around her. Give me some space and then we can talk
Nice. Very civilized . . . I really liked Gage, but this side of his life didn’t work for me. Not even a little bit. I needed some time to think things over.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said to Daisy. Eyes followed me as we walked toward the kitchen, weighing on me in silent judgment. My phone buzzed, and I glanced down to find a text from Carrie.
CARRIE: WTF?????? You had a fight with Talia at Jacks????
Ugh. Story of my entire childhood—every wall had eyes. Gage was plenty good in the sack, but drama seemed to follow him everywhere. My life was supposed to be a drama-free zone, and his stupid ex-girlfriend was in so much violation it hurt.
Daisy’s little car was parked behind the bar in a space marked “Reserved for Jack,” and I gave her a quick look. She blushed and shrugged, looking so cute it was almost enough to distract me from the shrieking in the distance.
Almost.
But not quite.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
GAGE
“You fucking asshole!” Talia screeched, and it took all my self-control not to toss her ass into the bushes. Not a good idea, though—not with people watching us. Fucking cunt. I set her down gently enough that she didn’t fall, but it wasn’t a smooth landing, either.
“Shut the fuck up,” I growled at her. “You don’t talk to me, you don’t talk to Tinker. I’m gonna give you one chance to get your ass out of town, understand?”
Her nostrils flared.
“Nobody uses Talia Jackson,” she hissed. “I talked to Marsh. I know what happened, and I swear to God, you’ll pay for what you did. All of you will pay!”
“Whatever,” I said, turning back toward the bar. With a screech she jumped me from behind, wrapping both arms around my neck, squeezing tight enough that my