Read Online Twice Shy (The Restraint Series) by Jill C Flanagan, Jill Christie - Free Book Online

chuckle. “I know. Although there isn’t any real connection between the two of you, I’m jealous she had so much time with you.” His face grew very serious. “You are our daughter.”
    Stacy’s throat got thick with emotion. She reached forward and took his hand.
    They arrived at Mary’s house. It was a different house than the one Stace grew up in, for which she was thankful. Her brain was close to overdosing on Memory Lane.
    It was a tiny little house in the older part of town, similar to the house they grew up in. It had a little glassed-in porch.
    Mary lived in quiet chaos. Never dirty, in varying degrees of messy. West was going to need his anti-bacterial gel after this. He didn’t have the ability to differentiate between messy and dirty. He was a male Monica from “Friends” when it came to tidiness.
    Sarge approached the house and knocked. Hard. It took a few minutes, but Mary wordlessly let them in, squinting in the mid-morning summer sun.
    She sat down in the living room. Sarge and Mary followed. West, germaphobe extraordinaire, stayed standing.
    She lit up a cigarette. “Before you start, I cain’t tell you.”
    West and Sarge had decided Sarge had a better chance of getting through. He rumbled, “Would money loosen your tongue?”
    Non-mom Mary’s eyes darted again. Left then right. “I dunno, how much?” She sipped on her hair of the dog.
    Sarge looked to West. He nodded. Sarge offered, “Five thousand.”
    Mary broke into a laugh which turned into a cough. “Five grand? I’m talkin’ life-changing money. Hundred thousand, nothin’ less.”
    Stacy started to stand. Sarge put a quelling hand out to stop her. It got her hackles up. Too many dominants spoiled the broth. She smiled to herself; that was almost a cliché. West was rubbing off on her.
    Sarge said, “Okay, Mare. Hardball time.” He put his hand in his jacket. Pulled out some papers. Stood up and crossed over to hand them to her.
    “What’s this?”
    Sarge sat back down. “It’s every loan I’ve ever given you, Mary. That you’ve not paid back. I made you sign a simple loan agreement every time. The secon’ to last piece of paper is yer notice of termination. The last paper is your eviction notice, as yer more than three months behind on the rent.”
    Mary’s hands shook, most likely not from the DT’s. “But...” Then she fell silent. Stacy did feel sorry for her in that moment. Auntie dearest, yes, but in that moment she truly was a victim of her addiction.
    Stace wasn’t aware Mary had borrowed from Sarge. Mostly because she never thought Sarge was much of a soft touch. He knew full well he’d never get the money back. Pissing money away was Auntie Mom’s specialty.
    Sarge was putting up a good front. But he did have an affection for Mary. He took care of the broken people around him. Until now, she never thought giving money was part of it. Letting them earn it, yes. Sarge always had said functioning alcoholics made the best bar staff. They might steal a little, drink a little, maybe be late for a shift a time or two. But they always came back to work. They needed to be near the source.
    Stacy thought it was more. Something about Sarge himself drew him to the Saloon. He didn’t drink himself. Maybe he was a reformed alcoholic. Yet he never tried to stop people from drinking. Her non-mom and the everyday drunks included.
    Mary kept looking at the papers. Then she gave Stacy a look of contempt, as if it were her fault. Which, in all fairness, it was. Sort of.
    “I’ve gotten away with it. I don’t want to do anythin’ to come up on their radar.”
    “We just need to know your birth name, and Stacy’s. I don’t give two shits whose social security number you’re usin’.”
    Mary shook her head while her body trembled.
    “Mare, do you really think they’re looking for you after all these years?”
    “They’re evil crazy. Who knows what crazy will do?”
    West said, “I don’t think they will even find