A Lion Shame (Bear Creek Grizzlies Book 3) by Layla Nash, Callista Ball

over all of it, but he needed to know who he was up against. As the afternoon ticked away and he continued interviewing Sarah Jane for any useful information, Rosie went downstairs to open the bar and keep an eye on things. Tate liked having Sarah Jane to himself, and he even managed to make her laugh a couple of times. He loved her laugh, as shy as it was, and didn't mind missing his nap at all.

Chapter 12
Sarah Jane
    S J felt exhausted even though she'd hardly done anything other than watch Tate search the car, and then sat at Rosie's table and tried to remember details about the past few months. Luckily Dakota woke up from her nap cheerful and toddled around the living room entertaining herself with some of her toys, and let SJ clean Rosie's apartment without much distraction. Rosie stayed downstairs in the bar, getting ready for the rush of people for happy hour, but occasionally called upstairs to see how SJ and the baby were doing. Tate headed out to do whatever it was he was going to do in order to help her get rid of Chuck, and she missed his quiet presence at the table.
    SJ vacuumed the same spot over and over as her mind wandered, going over everything Tate asked about to see whether she'd missed anything important. She eventually moved on but ended up frowning out the window. It felt like a storm gathered in her life, just like the one gathering on the horizon. Somewhere, Chuck searched for her and the car. Or maybe he was already dead and his associates searched for her instead. She didn't know which was worse.
    She took a deep breath and put away the vacuum, checking Dakota's diaper before scrubbing down the kitchen. She almost missed her cell phone ringing, and ran to the living room to answer, expecting Rosie on the other end. She fumbled with soapy hands and managed to make a face at Dakota as she answered, "Hello?"
    "Don't you dare hang up."
    She froze. Chuck. Her stomach dropped and her knees weakened, and she had to hold onto the couch as she sat. She couldn't speak, the words backing up in her throat until she knew she'd throw up if she even opened her mouth.
    He didn't wait long before going on. Chuck spoke low and fast, and a hint of fear threaded through his voice. She knew him well enough to know he was scared. Furious and scared, which was a terrible combination. "I don't know what the fuck got into you, but you made a huge mistake. I want my car back. All of it. Or you're fucking dead. We're all dead."
    "You can have it." She almost choked on the words, wishing Rosie was there with her, but SJ took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I don't want it."
    "That's the first smart thing you've done since I met you." Chuck made an ugly sound, something like a laugh, and SJ gritted her teeth. She was done with his insults. Done with him putting her down and acting like having a heart was a weakness. He went on when she didn't react, sounding even uglier with each word he spoke. "This is what you're going to do. And if you fuck this up, your kid is going to pay the price. Got it? Get the car, drive it east to Sage Hills, and park it at the diner on the west side of town. Leave it there."
    SJ stared without seeing as Dakota threw her blocks across the room, and tried to process what he said. "Then how will I leave, if the car stays there?"
    "That's not my problem. You're the one who stole the car. Get a fucking cab, I don't care." The sound of an engine starting in the background almost hid the rest of his words. "I'll know when you're there. Park it exactly where I told you and get the fuck out of town before I decide to kick your ass for stealing from me."
    SJ looked around the apartment, shaking her head as she spotted Dakota heading for a stack of books to topple over. "It'll have to be tomorrow; I have —"
    "Now. Leave now. If you take one more minute, I'll find you and you'll regret it. And so will that kid. Little blue-eyed babies fetch a high price in certain markets, you hear me? So get your shit,