Until Alex Read Free Page B

“Where’s his family?”
    She lifted her iPad. “Sorry, sweetie, that’s his story to tell. Not mine.”
    I definitely wasn’t surprised he had a story.
    “Just don’t go falling under his spell,” she warned.
    “His spell?”
    She lowered her device, letting her eyes fall upon me. “I may be closing in on forty, but it doesn’t mean I’m blind. He’s gorgeous and brooding. Doesn’t get more tempting than that.”
    This time I did smile. And it felt good. 
    The fact that I was in so much trouble…not so much.

CHAPTER TWO
    HAYDEN
    “Dude, can’t you go any faster?” Remy asked from the passenger side of my truck. 
    I glanced over, cursing under my breath. His damn boot was planted on my dashboard. I’d given up asking him to move it, but it still pissed me off to no end. Especially when he laughed it off, leaving it there like he owned the truck.
    That was Remy. He did whatever the hell he wanted. Including inking up his body and piercing his face and tongue.
    “Once we get there,” he said. “I hope the asshole says he ain’t paying. I’d really like to beat a deadbeat’s ass tonight.”
    I shook my head. Remy lived for the shit we did for cash. I just hoped they paid so we could get the hell out of dodge.
    Remy dropped his foot and leaned forward, pointing to a single-level house coming up on our left. Except for the television flickering inside what I assumed to be the living room, the house sat draped in darkness. My eyes shot to the truck in the driveway. Good. He was home. Hopefully he’d just fork over the cash.
    I steered clear of any street lights as I pulled my black F150 to a stop across the street and a few houses away from our target. I didn’t own much, so I tried to keep it out of harm’s way.
    Before I even shifted into park, Remy jumped out. He jogged down the deserted street and crossed the lawn with wide strides. Apparently he planned to fly solo.  He’d been doing that a lot lately. Which was fine by me. I’d lost the desire to join him three years ago. That’s when we stopped running money and started hitting up guys who didn’t pay their bookie.
    There was nothing I hated more than laying my hands on someone. But I never let on, always showing up for Remy. He needed me. And I always had his back. No questions asked.
    I killed the engine, taking in the lower-class neighborhood, with its similar houses tightly lining the street.
    Remy pounded on our target’s front door. He impatiently twisted to scour the neighborhood, searching the shadows for any sign of trouble. He was paranoid. Always had been. Just like he’d always been scrawny.
    But his gaunt looks were deceiving. They gave no indication of the power a blow from him could pack. Juvie made Remy stronger. But life made him harder. I guess it’s what brought us together in the first place. Both foster kids. Both angry at the world.
    The door to the house cracked open. Remy spun around, jamming the toe of his boot in the gap. Good thing. The asshole tried to slam the door in his face. Remy’s palm flew out, shoving it open and forcing his way inside.
    I gripped my door handle, ready to assist if I got the sign or he’d been in there too long. It happened more often than not. Not because Remy and I sucked at our job. Because we didn’t. We always delivered. But deadbeats had no intention of paying the money they owed. And most didn’t owe chump change. They owed thousands.
    I snagged the gun stowed under my seat and tucked it into the back of my jeans. These guys weren’t just gambling addicts. They suffered other addictions, too. None of which I wanted to get caught in the middle of unarmed. Especially when demanding money they’d already stiffed our boss on.
    The television inside the house flicked off, shrouding the house in complete darkness.
    I flew out of the truck and across the lawn, unsure if I even shut my door. I reached the house and pushed the door open slightly, uncertain what I’d find.
    The