Record of Wrongs (Redemption County Book 1) Page 9

  Rosie covered her mouth, but a giggle slipped through. Cruz shot her a wry grin before looking back at the woman.

  “Oh my goodness! Child—stop. No more talk about baths and washing until we get home and you are getting a bath. You got grape slushy all over your face. You’re a mess.” The woman turned to Cruz and Rosie, cheeks crimson. “I am so, so sorry. She has no filter.”

  “No, really, it’s fine,” Cruz assured her. “She’s got a point--normally you don’t draw on yourself.”

  “True but—” She shook her head. “Thank you for understanding. It’s been a long day.”

  “No worries.” He leaned forward, letting his hands dangle between his knees. He angled his head toward Rosie, who was shaking in silent laughter. “Yuck it up.”

  “Cruz, that was the funniest thing I’ve heard all week,” she whispered, wiping her eyes.

  “Glad to be the entertainment.” He studied the ring as an engine roared through the early night air, then a second. The space was filled with all kinds of beater cars. Some looked like they’d seen action earlier in the day.

  A voice came on the loudspeaker, announcing the start of the derby, and for the next twenty minutes ten cars slammed and crashed to the crowd’s delight. The watchers cheered each driver as he—or she, in one case—wrecked beyond repair and exited their car. When it got down to two cars, the voice on the speaker rattled off their names and whooped the crowd into cheering for one or the other.

  It was all in good fun. But unbidden, decade old memories popped into his brain. His own defensive, evasive driving on Chicago’s dark streets. Stolen vehicles brought to a warehouse along the sanitation canal and delivered to the senior members of a gang who were owed a favor by the men Cruz wanted to join. Semi-automatic weapons trained on him as he delivered the goods alone. He was fifteen, and on the path that would lead him to prison.

  The crowd around him erupted in applause, yanking him back to the present. Rosie stood up and clapped. “That was crazy! Look at that old truck—it’s smoking!”

  He got to his feet and scanned the arena. Cars had stopped anywhere they pleased. Fenders lay on the dirt, along with one tire. “That was cool.” It sounded lame, but he didn’t want to tell Rosie he’d spaced out, lost in his shitty past.

  “Whew! Yes, awesome!” The side aisles were jammed with people. She started to climb down the bleachers in front of them. “I need some food, and that barbeque has been smelling delicious ever since we parked. I—”

  One of her low-heeled boots slipped off the edge of a bleacher and she wobbled. Without thinking he reached for her with both hands, catching her around the waist. “Whoa.”

  A gasp left her lips as she clutched his biceps. Wide blue eyes stared up into his and breaths whooshed through her parted lips. Breaths that were part startled and part lost, as if she didn’t have any idea how she ended up holding on to him.

  She was warm under his hands. Her fingers, light as birds wings, flexed into his muscles. Seconds ticked by and he had to fight off the feeling of wishing like hell they were alone. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she murmured, not moving. “Stupid boots.”

  “I like them.” His blood roared to close the space between them and taste her plump lips. But they were on bleachers with people maneuvering all around them. “Let’s get you over to the side.”

  “Okay.” She released her hold on his arms, only to surprise him by grabbing his hand.

  Her hand was tiny and perfect in his as they made their way to the edge of the seats and down steps that were made for descent, unlike the precarious stands. Only at the bottom did she squeeze his fingers. “Thanks. I’m okay now. I think I can walk without tripping.”

  “Good.” He didn’t let go of her. “Next stop—food?”

  She smiled up at him. “Yep.”

  Minutes later they found a spot at a table in what was designated as the dining area. A few dozen picnic tables were arranged under a large tent. Strings of white lights twinkled along the fabric high above. One area was sectioned off into a beer garden, while the rest was filled with families. Every kid had either an ice cream cone or a cloud of cotton candy, or was clamoring for one.

  Rosie and Cruz dug into pulled pork sandwiches and cheesy French fries. “This is probably a thousand calories, but it’s sooo good,” Rosie said in between bites.

  “Hey, the fair only happens once a year. You’re entitled.”

  “Next we need to get elephant ear—”

  “Rosie Marlow, is that you?” a shrill voice carried across the tent.

  Rosie turned to the sound, a look of surprise, mixed with dismay on her face. She quickly adjusted it to a smile that passed for genuine. “Charmaine! How are you?” She dragged out the last word long enough to make it a separate sentence, and stood to greet the newcomer.

  Charmaine had big brown teased hair and a tight lime green top on. Loads of makeup covered her face, which was more than likely attractive under all that color. “Rosie. Y’all haven’t come by for custard in ages.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. The Grille is so busy and, gosh, I’ve lost track of how long it’s been.” Rosie tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ll come by soon, I promise.”

  Charmaine had stopped paying attention to Rosie at the word Grille, and focused heavily mascaraed eyes on Cruz. “And who is this?”

  Cruz stood and extended a hand. “Cruz Zaffino. Nice to meet you.”

  “Cruz just moved to Sundown,” Rosie explained.

  Charmaine held his hand a second longer than he thought she needed to. “Zaffino. My, that sounds erotic. I mean—” She covered her red-painted mouth and giggled. “Exotic. Where are you from? Italy?”

  “Chicago, actually.”

  Her eyes lit up like she’d discovered gold. “Oh, a big city man! How exciting that you joined our little town!”

  He nodded. “Seems like the ideal place to live.”

  “It is ideal, let me tell you. You made a good choice.” Her eyes roamed his tattoos before swinging back to Rosie. “Well, I’ll let you two keep on with your supper. I just had to say hello as soon as I saw you. Take care now.” She grabbed Rosie for a hug, then sashayed off to one of the food booths.

  Rosie sat down and so did Cruz. She had the oddest fake smile plastered on her face. “Oh my god, that woman is the biggest gossip in Redemption County.”

  “Okay,” he said, frowning. “Guess they’re everywhere, right? What’s with the expression?” He drew a circle in the air with one finger.

  “I’m keeping a smile on because ten to one she’s still watching us. Believe me, I want nothing more than to roll my eyes right now.”

  He chuckled. “Wow. That bad?”

  “Yes.” She took a bite of her sandwich. “She’s probably put a hundred pictures on her social media already, of every part of this fair. And everyone she talked to.”

  “Got nothing better to do?”

  “Nope, she doesn’t.” Rosie sighed. “She’s not a bad person. She just literally can’t keep anything to herself.”

  Cruz munched on a fry dripping with cheese and was glad Rosie knew his past. This Charmaine might be about to dig up more than she bargained for about him.

  They finished their sandwiches and started their search for the elephant ear booth. “We should just look for people with powdered sugar all over themselves,” Rosie joked. “Those things are so messy.”

  And shit, there she went again. Or maybe his sex drive was more out of control than he realized. Her innocent words sparked an image of her, naked, covered in powdered sugar.

  And maybe with her hat.

  He gritted his teeth and racked his brain for the most unsexy topic he could think of. Changing the oil in his truck. Yep, that would do.

  They found the booth a minute later and he bought them each one of the doughy treats. Eleph
ant ear in hand, Rosie nibbled at it carefully. Still, each bite sent powdered sugar flying in all directions. She peeked up at him with a grin. A dusting of white streaked her chin, and he couldn’t resist. He reached toward her.

  “You gots to wash this off,” he mimicked the child from earlier, gently brushing the sugar from her skin.

  Her eyes dropped to his thumb and her lips parted. A hundred inappropriate ideas about her mouth tumbled through his head. But hell, they were at a family-friendly event and he had barely managed to keep his thoughts under control. Those boots, those shorts, her soft brushes against him as they walked—

  Sudden trepidation fired up his spine as his focus was hijacked by deep-set instincts. Behind Rosie, a woman with a fussing toddler struggled with toys, two bags, and a stroller. The child’s shrieks of protest pierced the air, carrying over the woman’s attempts to soothe. Both her bags gaped wide open, slung over her shoulder as she leaned down to try to buckle the child into the stroller. Another slightly older child twirled nearby, chomping on cotton candy, inching away from them toward a stray balloon that had lost half its air and rolled along the ground. “Will! Get back here. Stand right here so I can see you. Will!”

  The smaller kiddo kicked and screamed. The whole scene would have been typical—except for the mayday bellowing in his mind. The woman was a target.

  A shaggy haired man, clad in black from head to toe, slipped in close behind the woman. Silent and swift. She didn’t seem aware of him as his hand dipped into her bag and emerged with her wallet. In a flash, he was speed walking down the midway.

  Oh, hell no.

  Cruz charged after the guy. He caught up to him and clamped a hand on his neck, pressing into the skin on the sides. “You’re gonna give that back, asshole.”

  “What the fuck?” The man—only looked to be in his early twenties—tried to shrug off Cruz.

  But Cruz only tightened his grip. “You deaf?”

  “Ow, fuck. Who the fuck are you?”

  Cruz steered him to the side of a building, away from the crowd. “Someone you’re gonna wish you never saw. Drop the wallet.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rosie following them.

  “Don’t fuck with me man. Stay out of it.” The guy struggled.

  Cruz shifted his hand to exert more pressure on the carotid artery. “Ten seconds til you pass out. Drop it or I’ll take it and leave you here.”

  The guy’s hands clutched at Cruz’s arm. He blinked rapidly. “It’s just a …wallet…Not like I touched her or nothing…”

  “Five seconds,” Cruz growled.

  Panting, the man retrieved it from his baggy pants pocket and dropped it at Cruz’s feet.

  Cruz let go, and the man took off like a shot into the dark area behind all the tents and buildings.

  He picked the wallet up and opened it. A quick glance inside showed cash and credit cards still there, thank fuck.

  “Cruz?” Rosie’s voice was tentative behind him.

  He blew out a breath and turned to her. “We need to return this before that woman goes home.”

  “Cruz!” Rosie stood in front of him. “What just happened? How did you—”

  “This first.” He thrust the wallet into her hands. “You do the talking. Tell her it fell out of her bag. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 11

  Rosie clutched the unfamiliar woman’s wallet and followed Cruz. What the hell just happened?

  One minute Cruz was looking sexy as hell, brushing powdered sugar off her chin, almost acting like he wanted to kiss her, and the next, he’d disappeared and cornered a mugger. It all happened so fast, her head was spinning.

  She hurried to keep pace with his long strides as he led them back to the spot where the woman with the crying child had been. Rosie hadn’t even noticed her at first—crying kids and harried parents were everywhere at the fair.

  “Do you see her?” Cruz said gruffly.

  “Um, not yet…” Rosie scanned the crowd. Had the woman been wearing blue or white? Hair in a ponytail or loose?

  “Shit.” Cruz said through clenched teeth. “She had two kids. Two bags…”

  “We can check the parking lot.” Rosie said. “Bet it’ll take her awhile to load the kids in and get the stroller put away.”

  “Good idea.” He still hadn’t looked at her. He’d never stopped searching the throng.

  A wail carried through the air, accompanied by the slam of plastic. “Now we’re going home. No more stops.” Emerging from the porta-potty area was the woman, one fussing child in the stroller and one walking beside.

  “There she is. Go,” Cruz ordered.

  Rosie didn’t know what to make of this angry tough version of Cruz, but she didn’t stop to dwell on it. She hurried to the woman, wallet extended. “Um, miss? This um, fell out of your bag.”

  The woman’s jaw dropped. “What? It did?” She grabbed a huge blue bag, which was still wide open, and peered inside. Her fingers rummaged frantically and she gaped at Rosie. “It did fall out. Oh my god. Thank you so much! I didn’t even realize…” She took the wallet and held it to her chest. “Thank you. This means so much to me, you don’t even know how much.”

  “Your welcome. We’re happy to help.” Rosie smiled, glad to return the wallet but with her brain still whirling over how it had happened. “Get home safe.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced at Cruz, who had slowly approached to stand at Rosie’s side. “Okay, we’re off. Come on, Will.”

  The child half-skipped, half-jumped along next to her. Rosie watched them make their way toward the parking lot until she couldn’t see them anymore. She turned to Cruz. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “How about we start by going home?” His tone was softer than it had been a minute ago, but still resolute.

  “Okay.” They walked in silence to the truck, past tired families and giddy teens. Rosie couldn’t help but peek at every figure who walked around the edges of groups, wondering how many pickpockets were here and how many were successful. She never thought about things like that. Maybe she should. But the fair had always been a bright shining spot in the annual events of her life. Logically, she knew that stuff got stolen in every town in the country.

  But tonight hit too close. This was her home county, her fair.

  They reached Cruz’s truck and he opened the door for her like before. She hopped in and he stalked around to his side and got in. She studied his profile as he started the engine. Even if he wasn’t a walking mountain of drop-dead hotness, something about him was so strong and honorable, she just wanted to melt. Yet a brooding anger that she didn’t understand darkened his mood. Wasn’t he glad that he’d just averted a crime?

  He maneuvered them onto the main highway, still quiet, and drove.

  Did he need time to decompress? When they were halfway home, Rosie couldn’t stand it any longer. “Are you okay?”

  “That’s a loaded question, Rosie.” He kept his eyes on the road.

  “Why?” she pushed.

  “Because the answer is no. And if the answer is no, you’re gonna want to know why.”

  “True.” Well, that wasn’t what she expected. He pegged her thoughts exactly. Was she that obvious, or did everyone react this way to whatever it was with him? “Will you tell me?”

  For a few minutes he didn’t answer. She waited, willing him to let her in.

  “It’s not pretty,” he finally muttered.

  “I don’t need pretty. I want to understand what’s going on with you.”

  They hurtled through the pitch black moonless night, which matched his apparent mood. How quickly everything had changed on their happy, flirty date. “You won’t like it.”

  “Neither of us knows that until you tell me,” she said softly. And a creeping hypocrisy slithered up her spine as her own words echoed in the car. Her own secrets s
he held so closely, for the same reason. People wouldn’t like it—or her--if they knew the truth. Of that, she was certain. She sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m prying and pushing. It’s not really any of my business.”

  “Technically, no.” He glanced at her, the tiniest of smiles on his sexy mouth. “But I did say you could ask me anything.”

  “And you also said there were things that are hard to talk about,” she added.

  They reached Sundown and its two street lights, one at each end of town. They passed Marvin’s gas station and Cruz turned toward her place, not needing a reminder. She didn’t know why that made her happy—the town was postage-stamp small, so it really wasn’t that hard. But it showed that he paid attention. Of course he pays attention. He caught a damn pickpocket tonight.

  They cruised down her driveway, the headlights illuminating the crops on either side. Reaching her house, he threw the car in park and they both got out.

  She stood by the truck, not ready for this night to end. “You stopped that guy. You did an amazing thing tonight.”

  He cast a glance to the sky. “Not really. I did what anyone would’ve done.”

  “Most people wouldn’t even have seen it,” she said. “It happened so fast. One minute you were with me and then next gone, and…and you had that guy pinned.”

  “Guess I just happened to look in the right place at the right time.” He looked to the side, to the ground, anywhere but at her.

  “You saved that woman time, money, maybe her identity—that’s not just happenstance. You acted when others would’ve been clueless or worse, not gotten involved. Cruz.” She reached for his hand. “You acted like a her—”

  “Don’t.” His voice was gritted through clenched teeth. “Don’t use that word.”

  “Why not? The other night, as well. With those three guys? You…you saved me.”

  “I’m as far from a hero as you can get, Rosie.” He glared as if daring her to argue.

  Darn it, she was more than up for a fight. He’d been nothing but amazing since he’d lived here. “Why? You stepped in twice now and helped—“

  “I’m not a good man. Never was. Maybe I misled you.” He paced to the rear of the truck and leaned his arms on the bed.