Page 127

The man gave him an unimpressed look. "Sent her on a wild goose chase. She's so fucking stupid."

My insides twisted at the insult. I didn't know this man, but I hated him. Absolutely fucking hated him.

"We're leaving," Jackson announced and spun us around.

"She should know who she's fucking," the man said, nodding towards me. "Who she's really fucking."

The realization fell on me like a ton of bricks. This man was Jackson's father. He was every bit as toxic and cruel as everyone made him out to be and I'd only been in his presence for a minute. I wanted to put a door, a mile, a lifetime between Jackson and that man.

"You're pathetic. Always have been and always will be. A piss poor excuse for a son. Acoward."

I felt Jackson take the verbal hit. He didn't need to tense or flinch for me to know it landed. His whole presence changed.

I stretched my legs, trying to move as fast as Jackson and his long legs. He pushed open the door, the sunlight blinded me for a moment, and we were almost free.

"Run away, just like you always do, you little shit. Tuck that tiny dick between your legs and run."

Oh hell no.I did not want to engage this man and feed his oversized ego any more than Jackson did, but I also wouldn't put up with him attacking the man I loved. I started to turn back but Jackson shoved his body in front of mine. "I'm not running. I'm walking away from a human piece of garbage."

I balled his shirt in my fist to anchor him. My heart ached as his father continued to insult him, to goad him into snapping. But Jackson wasn't having it. He was eloquent—at least as eloquent as one can be while being insulted by a parent—and as still as the Gulf on a calm day.

Then I heard the scrape of wood against wood as his father pushed out of the stool. "I can still put you in your place."

Every one of my senses heightened. Very similar to the few occasions when Cristobal had cornered me. My body knew it was in danger, knew the situation could change at any second, and I needed to be prepared to do... something.

Jackson sighed. A combination of exasperated and sad. "We both know that hasn't been true in a very long time, old man. My fist doesn't need to touch your skin to remind you of how true that is." He reached around and took my balled fist from his shirt, then let the saloon door slam shut. "Just move. I want to get out of here. I want to know where the hell Scottie is, and I need to check on Eve."

I hurried to the waiting truck while pulling my phone out. "I'll call Eve."

Jackson nodded once, opened the truck door for me and helped me up. "Scottie better be dead in a ditch. Aw, what the hell now?" He hung his head with a sigh.

I twisted to follow his line of sight and found Travis coming right at us. The look on his face was not good. Willow came running a moment later and skidded to a stop beside Travis at the same time he put his hands on his hips. "We have a big fucking problem."

"Creeper didn't get the message?" Jackson asked.

"Worse. Creeper wasn't interested in Willow." His gaze slammed into me and my stomach dropped. "He asked a lot of questions about A.M. Quill and if we'd seen her around town."

Willow nodded quickly. "He was very insistent you must be around town. I didn't really think of it when he came in the first time and looked over all your books and asked about you. He just seemed like he was curious about your books. Then today...oh, Marley. He knows you're here and he's looking for you."

"The whisper-net is in full force," Travis continued. "The TBCIMAs are on top of it. I swear they're acting like this is their Olympics."

The information hit me hard and fast. Like drinking from a firehose. I barely processed my emotions from the saloon and now this?

"Wait," I whispered as all their words suddenly clicked. "You know who I am."

Willow blushed. "Uh, yeah. We've all known for a little while, actually."

"What?" Jackson yelled.

Travis shrugged. "She's one of ours. When word got out, everyone agreed that protecting her identity was more important than fan-girling. Plus those of us more in the know might have mentioned that it was good for Marley to be a regular person."

My mind spun. "Who is everyone? Annie? Aviana?Sharon?" How hadshekept her mouth shut?

"Joanne knows?" Jackson asked, exasperated.

Travis smiled warmly. "That's how much she likes you. Even my big dumb celebrity-stalking sister kept her cool. Which, by the way, was hard when you did that freak out over your records at the office. She wants an Oscar for that performance."

Everyone knew.Everyoneknew. And they said nothing. They went on like they'd just heard I like trout more than grouper. Surprising but not important enough to go screaming through the streets about it.