For Keeps

By Patricia A. Gray

Troy Linden is the kind of guy who would do anything for his best friend, Christineand he did. Now the former forest ranger (The Rangers Obsession) is on the run for murder. Troy, however, sees his misdeed as more of a favor to his friend the night he left her abusive fianc to die tied to a tree during a snowstorm in the San Bernardino Mountains. Law enforcement sees the favor differently.

Detective Stuart Bradley has been assigned to the case and is anxious for the dangerous man to be caught. But in order to get to Troy, he has to first get to Christine. Its treacherous territory hes wandering into when he develops an attraction to her. After all, Troy has already proven how far he will go to keep Christine safe and all to himself. Just ask the dead fianc.

Yet Bradley is hardly the gentleman he appears in his suit and tie. Underneath, hes well-armed and entirely capable of taking from Troy much more than his freedom. The cops determination sets them up for the fight of a lifetime. And it isnt just smarts or brute force they must use. Its their will to kill.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781491780992

Patricia A. Gray

Patricia A. Gray is the author of thirteen novels including The Loner, Ridder of Vermin, and The Seared One. A graduate of the University of Alabama, she lives in Southern California with her husband, daughter, and Chocolate Lab, Reddington.

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Copyright © 2015 Patricia Gray.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-8100-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-8101-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-8099-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015918514

iUniverse rev. date: 12/02/2015

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Books by

Patricia A. Gray

The Loner

Scarred

Ridder of Vermin

Binding Ties

The Fugitive Blues

Ash Man

A Grudge to Share

The Ranger's Obsession

For those who risk it all

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To the readers who continue to stick with me---you are the best! We lost a few to retirement recently: Carol, Edith, Eileen, Robin, Sandi, Shellie, Tina... We will miss you!

A special thanks to Darlene who always promotes my books whenever possible. I will not forget what you did at the retirement reception. First class all the way, my friend!

To Maria who used her translation skills to fix my Spanish. Thanks, Maria! Twenty-five years with my husband and I still don't speak fluent Spanish. Ay, ay, ay...

To Sergio and Jodi who helped me understand some of the more technical stuff in the world of law enforcement. Thanks for your courtesy and knowledge in helping to clarify things without having to break the law to see it all firsthand.

Speaking of law enforcement, I want to recognize those who do a job few of us could handle. It's not easy and public sentiment can be tough. But still you persevere. Thanks for that.

Of course, since we're continuing the saga of an ex-forest ranger, I need to give thanks once again to the rangers out there who keep California's natural beauty available for us all to enjoy.

And, as always, thanks to my husband, Carlos, and my daughter, Josie. You make it all worthwhile.

CHAPTER ONE

WE GOT YOU, LINDEN, you son of a bitch. Thought you could outrun us? Thought you could get away?

Troy tried moving his head. But they had him pinned to the ground, the small rocks in the soil feeling more like knives in the side of his face as they held him down the whole time they put the cuffs on his wrists. Finally, he felt them grab him by the arms and pull him up, forcing him to stand and face one of the police officers. He looked warily into the cop's eyes: the one who had done the tough talking when Troy's head was at his feet and the man's cronies were roughing him up. He could already feel his jaw throbbing where they had punched him over and over before they had thrown him to the soil of the Nevada desert.

But he couldn't resist the opportunity to respond to the taunt. After all, these were the same guys who had murdered his ex-girlfriend. She'd escaped from jail to come see him on Christmas Day, and they'd shot her. They said she'd come to kill him. But he knew better.

Don't call me a son of a bitch, he hissed. You motherfucking pigs---

Whoa. That one got him shoved down once more and beaten to a bloody pulp...

Troy bolted up in the small bed. As he rubbed his unshaven face he could swear his cheek and jaw were aching from the far-too-realistic dream. He glanced around the tiny motel room and remembered where he was. Oh yeah. They hadn't caught him yet. He was still a free man.

He felt a stir next to him and looked down at the shapely figure under the covers sharing the smallest double bed he'd ever slept in. He bit his lower lip. Shit.

Hey, he said, pushing at her. Uh, wake up. Hell, he didn't even know her name. All he could see pop out from under the covers was a mane of long, blonde followed by a bare arm. Oh, that hair. He was such a sucker for long hair.

You gotta go, he muttered, pulling the blanket away to reveal her naked form. It was as fine as the hair.

Huh? she asked wearily.

I'm sorry, but you need to leave. I need to get out of here.

She widened her gaze, attempting to focus on the ruggedly handsome man next to her. Slowly, she pushed herself up in the bed and stared at him, from the stubble that graced his jaw to the hair on his muscular chest. She soon smiled with the intensity of his deep brown eyes as he watched her. Oh, yeah. I remember that look in the bar last night. You said it all without having to say a word.

He nodded obligingly and began to search for his clothes.

Wow, she added. It was so fun with you. You were super awesome.

Thanks, he answered and got up to put his jeans on. He grabbed her clothes and tossed them to the bed.

Reluctantly, the young girl slowly rose only to rub her nakedness up next to him. One for the road?

Troy felt the hardness of her nipples against his bare back. Damn. If only he had the time. He'd throw her right back down on that crappy mattress and fuck every---

He turned. I can't. Sorry.

The disappointment was obvious on her face. But like a good sport, she picked up her blouse from the bed and began to throw it on.

He stopped her. Can you put that on last? Let me enjoy those a couple minutes longer?

She smiled coyly and nodded as he stared at her breasts. You're so cute. She sighed as she took in his well-built, six-foot-three frame. And so talented. And I never got your name.

Troy was getting nervous, especially after that cop dream. It's not important. He swallowed, running his fingers through his short, brown hair, currently a medium shade and having lost what was left of the sun-lightened color from summer. He curled his lip with how long it felt to his touch. Damn, how he hated when his hair looked messy. He supposed now that he was on the run he'd have to get used to looking like crap.

As she pulled on her jeans and boots she looked over at him. It turned out good. She motioned to his crotch, still exposed where his jeans were unzipped.

He saw where she was looking. What? His eyes followed hers down his torso and immediately grew wider with the view. Oh, fuck. He had forgotten about that.

The skin under the tat might be red and a little tender for a while. Just keep the area clean so it won't get infected. I know. One of mine got infected before. It was super gross.

He nodded impatiently, checking out the time from his cell phone on the broken down night stand. I'll keep that in mind, he said, shoving in his cock and zipping up his jeans, shamefully covering the new artwork. When he glanced back, she was still looking his way. He felt guilty as hell for chasing her out. Maybe next time I'm in town---

But she only shook her head. It's okay. I know I'll never see you again. So thanks for last night. Really, it was super great.

God, her lack of vocabulary was really getting on his nerves. My pleasure, he responded politely, walking to the motel door. Thanks for keeping me company and...stuff.

"The and stuff was fun, she added, giggling. She made it to the door and pointed to her naked breasts. Can I put my top on now?"

Troy was staring at her delicious flesh. Oh, sure. He gave her a couple of seconds to throw on the shirt before he opened the door. Take care of them---you, he caught himself. Drive safely.

The girl only grinned. You, too. Stranger. Suddenly, she reached up to peck him on the cheek.

He watched her walk to her old Camaro. She appeared to be dragging her feet. Her leaving was both good and bad. He really needed to get the hell out of Dodge, but he sure could enjoy her for a few more hours. And yet he couldn't even take the time to find out her name. Yeah. He felt like a louse for that. Plus he remembered calling her Christine by mistake. Troy rolled his eyes. Christine was the pain in his ass that had caused this whole nightmare. If it weren't for her---

Screw it. Shutting the door, Troy spun around and grabbed his large duffle bag, throwing it to the bed. He pulled out the rifle and checked the ammunition. Then he dug for another shirt and socks. Packing the rifle on the bottom along with his handgun he shoved his dirty clothes over them and felt for the hunting knife. Everything was right where he'd left it.

Nervously, he rubbed his scruffy jaw again. Maybe he'd let the beard grow. After all, they were looking for a clean-cut forest ranger. If he looked more like a cave-dwelling mountain man maybe he'd have a better chance at escape. Hell, he wished he was back in his mountains in Big Bear, California and not in a sleazy motel outside of Las Vegas, Nevada. He sighed.

Well, you can't always get what you want.

With that profound realization, he had to piss, so he stumbled over to the bathroom, unzipping his jeans on the way. That damn tattoo. Who would've thought Troy Linden would ever follow through on his many threats to get one? As he stood over the toilet he vaguely recollected lying down on a table and hearing the noise of the needle. He hadn't even freaked out. Doctors scared the shit out of him but he was probably so drunk he was out of it all the while they were digging into his skin and defacing him. Troy finished and touched at the tender area only to wince. Before he zipped his jeans, he moved to the mirror and checked out the new addition. He narrowed his eyes at the artwork that stared back at him.

At least they had done a good job. It was definitely Smokey the Bear smoking a cigarette and gracing the area over his cock like some kind of welcome mat. Shit. What was he thinking? Obviously he hadn't been thinking. He'd been drunk and let a pretty girl talk him into permanently inking himself. Troy exhaled with a quick reality check. It wasn't her. It was him. It was the bad side that kept showing itself. Hence bad Smokey.

But as much as he deserved his bad label he still hated tattoos. He liked looking clean. And he took his job as a forest ranger very seriously. He loved what he did. As Troy stood staring in the mirror at that bad bear he grew sad. He had so fucked up.

He heard a buzzing from behind and looked over his shoulder to his cell phone by the bed. Pulling up his jeans and zipping them, he walked over to find a text from Christine, his once-best friend whose bad men choices now had him on the run.

It was the first time she had tried to contact him, and as he brought up the strange message he wasn't at all sure that he could trust her. When he left her in his cabin up in Big Bear just a few days ago she had told him she wouldn't call the police on him. But he didn't believe her. She could easily be working with them to set a trap. He wouldn't put it past her. She was such a vindictive, little bitch sometimes.

He read the message again:

Troy, I hope you're okay. I know you can't get back to me for fear they'll trace it but I want to help you. Please contact me somehow. I'm praying for you.

Praying? That didn't sound like Christine at all. She had to have the cops right there telling her what to say. Not that she was a bad kid, but after twenty-five years of being her friend he knew every side of her; and religious she wasn't.

Totally confused, he held the phone and sat on the bed. His overactive mind raced to her bungalow back in Riverside, California. He had been with her when she had bought it so many years ago. And she'd been with him when he'd bought his. He stared at the phone at one pic of his house. Man, he would kill to be there again.

Kill was certainly the wrong word. It was that word that had put him in his current predicament. He tightened his grip on his phone as he pictured the damn police hovering over her, instructing her on every word to text. Biting his lip, he could see the bullies sitting on her little couch, with her in between, all working together to set up the former ranger. Just the thought of them too close to the petite woman was pissing him off. Fuck. It was that anger that started all this shit. If only he didn't care so much about her. He recalled their last moment together, when he had tried forcing their friendship to another level. He supposed it was desperation that had caused him to kidnap his best friend, take her to his small wooden abode in the woods, and try to rape her.

Well, that was the term she had used. For him it wasn't rape...not really. It was more of an old-fashioned seduction, the kind where a man took what he wanted only for the woman to realize it was what she wanted all along as well. Yeah. Maybe another woman might realize it but not Christine. She was pretty hard-headed, especially when it came to seeing her relationship with him as anything other than friends. But he knew his days were now numbered and what else did he have to lose? Troy had spent too many years keeping his feelings for her in check. She never reciprocated. He knew the drill. That day in the forest was his last chance with her. So he took it. And he failed miserably.

Of course the fact that he had taken her fiancé to the mountains and left him to die hadn't helped matters. For that overprotective move he was now on the run for his future.

At the time he was only doing her a favor. The guy had hurt her and he would hurt her again. So Troy made sure he couldn't keep hurting her. That's all it was. But somehow Christine didn't see things his way. She kept calling it murder. Such a harsh word. It wasn't murder at all. He had tied the prick to a tree and left him in the snow. The bastard deserved every excruciating moment it took for his extremities to freeze off.

But Troy's vindictive act had really cost him. He had blown his career and his future and any chance at a normal life. And if they caught him he was headed to prison.

If they caught him. He threw the phone to the bed and reached for his hiking boots and clean socks. It was time to move on. He might never be able to come back as a ranger but he sure as hell wasn't going to let all that good, outdoor training go to waste. He'd make those cops work hard to catch their man.

Suddenly he stopped, holding the sock in his hand. He glanced at the run-down bathroom. Take a shower first. It might be your last one for a while.

Christine was packing a bag that late morning. Troy hadn't responded to her texts and she wasn't surprised. But she had meant every word she said. She really wanted to help him stay safe. After dealing with those detectives who had intruded into her life a couple of days before, she was convinced she needed to leave town herself, not only to find her best friend, but also to escape their sudden scrutiny of the death of Daniel, her fiancé.

The more she thought about it, their visit to her home had really angered her. How dare they think she had anything to do with Daniel's death? Troy was the one who had done it all. And when she found out it was her oldest friend who had killed the man she was going to marry, a part of her wanted to do to Troy what he had done to Daniel. But she couldn't. As much as she had hated him at that time, she couldn't react with the same malevolence he often carried with him. It was hard, though; especially when he was attempting to force himself on her in his remote Big Bear cabin. Troy had seemed to reach his lowest point in their relationship. But he redeemed himself in her eyes when he revealed the horrible truth about her fiancé as he left the cabin on his way to escape capture. Never mind that Daniel was a successful lawyer, fabulous in a suit and amazing in many other ways; he was apparently nothing but a manipulative, abusive user. It seemed that Troy had been right all along: Daniel was a no-good snake out to take whatever he could. Discovering the man she was going to marry was still seeing another woman, with the intention of seeing her even after the wedding, made Christine finally open her eyes and acknowledge the truth.

Okay---maybe Daniel didn't deserve to die for his actions, but Troy didn't deserve to go to prison for his, either.

She shoved the last of her clothes into the bag and zipped it closed, determined to find him. Then she paused. Even though she wanted to help him he didn't know that. Their last moments together were full of anger and betrayal. For all he knew she still hated him for what he'd done to Daniel. He'd probably never believe she was on his side.

Christine looked down at the closed bag. Unless he responded to her, she'd never be able to find him. He could be anywhere. Granted, he was on foot and normally wouldn't have gotten far, but Troy could be such a charmer with women there was no telling where he might end up. Shit, he was a good-looking man. He didn't have to do much of anything to get a woman to help him. They'd always fallen for him with little effort on his part. And he'd get bored, throw one away, and start over. He had no problem getting a woman; he just couldn't keep one. He was such a jerk sometimes. No one was ever good enough. Or so he said. But she'd seen all of his worst sides way too many times. The guy was no prince. Yet they were still best friends.

If only she could convince him of that.

Frustrated with all of her determination leading nowhere, Christine turned and walked into the bathroom, making sure she'd gotten everything. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror and frowned. Wow. The last few days had really taken their toll. Her shiny, black hair usually crazy with curl and bounce was dull and lifeless. She ran her fingers through the thickness and got caught. That wasn't good. She couldn't remember the last time she'd combed it. Pulling her hand away, she checked her face: no make-up, deathly pale and the dark circles under her eyes larger with each sleepless night that passed. Boy, did she look bad.

A fuzzy body appeared at her feet. Freda, her cat, was snuggling her leg appearing concerned with the lack of attention she'd been receiving from Mom lately.

Christine looked down and tried to smile when she picked up her baby. Don't worry, sweetie. We'll find him.

It was then she heard a knock at the door. She froze. Were the detectives already returning to arrest her? Surely they'd need proof. They were just assuming she'd been the ringleader in Daniel's death. They had nothing on her. She was clueless to his infidelity; why would she have him killed? Sadly, that itself depressed her. Why had she been so unaware of the many romps he took with his old co-worker: that sexy, curvy bitch he always invited to his little get-togethers? That should've been a clue right there. Even the cops knew it; they'd talked to the tramp herself. And she came off smelling like a rose. Christine was the one they were convinced was the planner and Troy the follow-through guy.

Shaking her head, she put down the cat and walked slowly to the front door. This time she was at least dressed. When the detectives had visited before she had been living in her robe, mostly from depression. But that was then. That was before they had pissed her off and made her want to fight back. She wasn't guilty and the guy they were looking for wasn't the bad guy. Inhaling confidently, she tried brushing back her frizzy hair and pulled down her tee-shirt over her jeans.

As she opened the door, she was relieved to find it wasn't the cops from San Bernardino coming to arrest her. It was just Lyle, Troy's co-worker and friend. He was standing at the door in his olive green trousers and khaki, short-sleeved shirt with his ranger hat on. He looked confused.

Lyle, Christine said, surprised. What are you doing here? She took a second to scan his uniform. How come you're not at work?

"I was there but I left. How come you're not at work?"

Her eyes widened. Oh God. He didn't know.

She pulled on his taut forearm and brought him inside. She glanced around the immediate area quickly behind him before she closed the door.

He took off his hat and ran his hand through his straight, black hair which was falling past his eyebrows. What's the matter? You seem nervous. And where's Troy? Have you seen him?

The woman rubbed her forehead. No, she answered softly. I don't know where he is.

Lyle looked like he didn't believe her. C'mon, Christine. You're his best friend. He hasn't been at work for days and hasn't called in. I just went to his house. He's not there. His truck's in the driveway but no Troy. He frowned and crossed his muscular arms. And you look freaked out. What's going on?

She gestured for him to follow her into the small living room over to the couch where they sat down. Immediately, she put her hand on his rigid thigh and gripped it hard.

Lyle took note of her forward move and smiled, his perfect, white teeth lighting up his face. Hey, the last time we were here on your couch that was my first move, he said, pointing to her hand. Remember?

Christine tightened her lips. She lowered her eyes.

I had such a good time with you. And it wasn't because we ended up in bed. Honest. He winked and held up his right hand. Ranger's honor.

Lyle...

It was a nice couple of dates we had, Christine. I wish we could've--- He stopped when he saw her face. Oh, that's right. You're engaged to Flaco now. I forgot. Troy mentioned it to me---

She glared. Daniel. Not Flaco.

I don't mean anything by it, Lyle said, his deep brown eyes lowering back to her hand still clutching his leg. "It's just Spanish for skinny. And he is pretty skinny---"

It doesn't sound respectful.

Sure, he said, nodding his head. He cleared his throat nervously while he took a sidelong glance at her compact, little body. She looked good in those jeans and that tee-shirt. It didn't look like she was wearing a bra. His eyes lingered.

Christine saw the point of his gaze. She sighed and pulled her hand from his leg. Lyle, I need to tell you something---

He tuned her out while he recalled their too-short past. Though they'd only been out twice, he sure would've liked more opportunities. She was such a sexy woman with her long, curly black hair. She reminded him of a girl he'd known as a teenager with hair like that. Only Christine had exotic, green eyes and skin like porcelain. She was similar to those dolls his abuelita had in Mexico. He would visit his grandmother every year until she passed away and Lyle never forgot those dolls she had scattered about the small house. Many were like him: dark and dressed in traditional Mexican clothing. But she had some that she said were de otros países. Some were fair, with light eyes. Those pale dolls had really made an impression on him. Kind of like the woman next to him.

He quickly looked down at his own tanned skin. Sadly, she had gone for the tall, cocky, ultra-white attorney.

Lyle? Are you listening?

He wasn't. Look, Christine. I know you and the lawyer make a nice looking couple...you're both pretty pale with those funky eyes but...honestly, is he what you really want? I mean, when I met him at the hospital that night when Troy got burned you guys didn't look all that happy together. Are you sure he's the guy for you? The ranger cleared his throat again. I may not be as tall as he is or as wealthy but, well, I think I could take pretty good care of you and I'd sure like a try at making you happy---

Christine's mouth fell open. Are you serious?

He narrowed his almost black eyes. Yeah, I'm serious. I really like you.

But---

I know it's probably too late to be telling you this shit, but I always liked you. I shouldn't have let Troy keep me from you. Him and his goddamned temper. Man, he's so jealous. He really screwed us up. And then you went and found the lawyer after that. He shook his head. Nothing personal, Christine, but Flaco's kinda arrogant. He rubbed me wrong that night. He looked down on me and it wasn't because I'm shorter. I don't think he likes Latinos or something. I swear he's prejudiced---

Oh, he's not prejudiced, she answered sourly. Trust me, if you'd been a sexy, black attorney he would've been all over you.

What?

This time, she exhaled. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just bitter.

About what?

Troy didn't tell you?

"Tell me what? He doesn't tell me a whole lot. Hell, you're the best friend, not me. I'm just his co-worker and a guy he tolerates. He's more of a ladies' man, y'know."

"You're more than that, Lyle, and you know it. You're the one who saved his life that day when his lover set fire to him."

You sound kinda bitter about that, too. Were you jealous of her?

Christine frowned. Oh, please. Why would I be jealous?

It's okay if you were. Annette was pretty cute. And super athletic. Even more than you. Plus she was young. He noticed her frown quickly transform to sneer. I mean, younger than all of us. And actually, except for the crazy part, she and Troy did make a good couple.

Until she set him on fire.

Lyle heard the scorn. Well, yeah. That's the crazy part.

Her gaze was hard. Look, Lyle, I really have to tell you something and it's not easy for me.

Okay. He took a deep breath and waved his hand over his head. It's all clear. Tell me.

Pressing her lips together in a momentary dilemma, Christine decided to spurt it all out. Daniel was having an affair. Apparently, he planned to keep it up even after we were married.

The ranger leaned forward. Wow. He got silent and put his teeth to his bottom lip. Then he began to fidget. That's kinda personal, though. Are you sure you want me to know this?

It's a part of what I have to tell you.

Running his hand through the hair that had fallen across his forehead, he nodded slowly. Okay, he agreed, casually spotting her left finger. It was ring-less. So the wedding's off?

She persevered. It seems I was the last to find out about his infidelity.

The woman usually is. He paused, suddenly darting his eyes away. Or...at least that's what I've heard. He shoved that hair off his forehead again.

It was Troy who discovered it.

How'd he know?

Turns out he was with the same woman Daniel was seeing.

Lyle went backwards on the couch. "Whoa. The same broad? With both guys? This sounds like a damned telenovela. Only I actually know some of the characters. This is pretty juicy."

Most of the time, she'd laugh with Lyle's sarcasm and humor. But not today. She shook her head in dismay.

He saw her reaction. Christine, what? Tell me.

She put her hand to her mouth. It was shaking. Remember the body they found up in Big Bear a few days ago?

Oh yeah. That was crazy. We never have shit like that happen. It's a pretty serene place, real tight. The only thing I heard was the stiff had on dress pants but no shoes or even a shirt and we'd just had a shitload of snow. If I recall they found him with ropes on his wrists or something.

She swallowed. Yes. He was taken from work and tied to a tree.

But how do you know--- It was then the ranger saw her eyes. They were suddenly distant and the slightest bit frigid.

Lyle's own eyes got large. It was Flaco?

"Daniel," she corrected him.

Lyle collapsed against the cushions of the sofa. Oh, God, he said softly, all the while he stared into her despondent face. She looked miserable. Slowly, he sat up and reached for her hand, holding it tight. "Christine, I am so sorry---"

Her grip was cold. Are you?

He pulled away slightly. Of course I am. Maybe I wasn't close to the fucker like you but I still didn't wish him any harm---

The woman pursed her lips. Yeah. Sorry, Lyle.

So what happened? he pursued. You said he was taken from work. Like kidnapped? It's crazy. Why would someone bring him up to Big Bear to kill him?

He waited for a response but she wouldn't answer. She was looking away as if uncomfortable. Then he saw what little color she had leave her face. Instantly, he removed his hand from hers.

No. Not him---

She nodded.

No way, Christine. Not Troy. There's gotta be a mistake---

There's no mistake. He admitted it to me.

Lyle had put his hand to the side of his face, nervously wiping at the coming beads of perspiration. But he's my fellow ranger. I mean, yeah, he's got a bad temper, but...he'd never go that far. Do you think he'd risk a job he loves and his freedom to do something so stupid and---and so wrong?

I know.

But why??

Christine held up her hands. How can I explain this without making him sound a little...

Psychotic?

She exhaled deeply. He did it to protect me.

"Protect you from what? A cheating guy? Shit, I cheated on my wife a buncha times and she didn't kill me---" Lyle forced himself immediately quiet. Whoops.

"Well, maybe she should have."

For a tiny woman, Christine sure could emit a powerful hit with those eyes. But Lyle stood his ground, despite the judgmental face staring back. Okay, so he cheated, all right? Guys aren't perfect. But there had to have been something else. I know Troy. He wouldn't kill a man for that.

It wasn't just that, she muttered. He hit me.

Troy?

Daniel. She glared again. Troy's very...supportive of me.