Justice Inked (Cowboy Justice Association 7) (2 page)

“Do you want to?”

The question was out before he could stop himself, but then he wanted to know the answer. She didn’t seem like the type of person who spent much time courting the opinions of others, but he didn’t know her well. She could be hiding a huge inferiority complex with tattoos and funny clothes.

“Stay still,” she scolded, pressing her palm to his shoulder. Her hands were small but capable, the nails cut short and painted a bright red that matched her lipstick. “And the answer to your question is not particularly. My parents weren’t people that encouraged hiding your light under a bushel as you might say here. They stood out and they wanted us to as well. If you met our family, you’d remember it.”

He believed it.

“What do your parents do?”

“They follow the Grateful Dead around the country and sell crystals out of their van.”

Wha–?

Rayne was openly laughing at him and he felt heat rising in his cheeks. “That’s what you expected me to say, isn’t it? You don’t think they’re bankers or attorneys, right?”

“I suppose not,” he said curtly, not enjoying the experience of being the butt of one of her jokes. Most people in Valley Station gave him a wide berth when it came to something like that. “Does it amuse you to laugh at me?”

“Kind of, yeah.” Rayne giggled and he found it difficult to stay annoyed. The sound was simply too cute. “But if you must know my parents own a company that puts together adventure vacations. You know like hiking, mountain climbing, bungee jumping, white water rafting. They really like the outdoors.”

“Doesn’t sound like you do.”

She wrinkled her snub nose and he noticed a smattering of light freckles. “Hardly. My idea of camping is sleeping with the windows open, but my parents had other ideas. I’ve been dragged along on every sort of family vacation they could think up that wouldn’t get us all out and out killed. Someday I want to spend a week being pampered at a spa, but I don’t know when that will ever happen. People complain when I close the shop on Sundays and Mondays.”

The bell over the door rang and Dare turned to see his little sister saunter into the tattoo shop. Just turned eighteen, Sophie was really Dare’s half sister from his father’s second marriage. When his dad had a heart attack and passed away several months ago, Dare had left his deputy job with Griffin Sawyer and moved back to Valley Station to care for his sister.

A completely fucking thankless job.

While he and Sophie loved each other, they didn’t exactly see eye to eye about how she should live her life. She thought she was all grown up and he still saw her as the tiny innocent girl with big blue eyes and blonde pigtails. It made for more than a few tension-filled conversations.

Just this morning they’d argued over how tight her jeans were. Sophie had told him they were “skinny jeans” and meant to hug the legs, but Dare had said they were simply too small. Then she’d reminded him she was eighteen and could dress herself however she wanted, and that had pretty much ended their heated discussion. Dare was afraid if he pushed her too much she’d move out and then he’d never know what was going on in her life. That was much worse than tight blue jeans.

“Hey, big brother, I thought I saw you through the window.” Sophie came closer to inspect Rayne’s work and a smile bloomed on her face. “That’s so cool, Miss Dunn! The colors are so bright and the detail is amazing.”

Rayne gave his sister a warm smile that she’d never given him. “Thank you. And please call me Rayne. All my friends do.”

Did that mean they were friends?

“I’d love to have a flower.” Sophie pointed to the top of her shoulder. “Right here. Something soft and feminine. Maybe pink. Could you do something like that?”

“No,” Dare grated, not caring that he didn’t let Rayne get in a word edgewise. This was his little sister. Emphasis on little. “No, she cannot. Ever. You are not getting a tattoo.”

Sophie’s chin jutted out, her eyes narrowed. “As I keep reminding you, big brother, I’m eighteen. That’s the age of consent to get a tattoo. If I want one there is no way you can stop me.”

His hands tightened into fists, Dare tried counting to ten before he replied but only made it to five. She was right, of course, but that didn’t mean he was giving in. “You’re too young. Ink is for life, little girl. When you’re a few years older then you can decide.”

He should simply be grateful she didn’t want to get the name of her latest horn dog boyfriend inked on her shoulder, or worse…on her ass. But he wasn’t feeling all that grateful at the moment.

“Says the man that’s getting a tattoo as we speak,” Sophie smirked. “You’re a gigantic hypocrite, you know that? When did you get your first tat?”

“That’s not the point. The point is–”

“Excuse me.” Rayne had stood up and her voice boomed through the small shop. “Can you have your family feud somewhere else? I need you to be still and I need to be able to concentrate, or you’re going to end up with a sad-looking tattoo. Capiche?”

No one talked to Dare that way. Ever. And yet this five foot two Goth pixie had just laid down the law. After laughing at him.

What the fuck?

He’d had enough for one day. “Can we continue this another time, Miss Dunn?”

He didn’t give a shit that he sounded curt or pissed or whatever. He was the goddamn law in this town, and he didn’t appreciate being spoken to like he was a naughty teenager.

Rayne grabbed the appointment book from the reception desk and slammed it down on her chair, her scarlet lips pressed together in a tight line. She wasn’t any happier than he was.

Tough.

“Fine. When?”

“Next Wednesday? About two?”

She carefully dressed his fresh ink before Dare slipped his shirt back on and she shoved a piece of paper in his hands. She wasn’t happy with him, but proper care of his new tattoo was important. “See you then. Here’s instructions on how to care for your tat. Let me know if you have any problems.”

He knew how to take care of new ink. This wasn’t his first rodeo.

“Thank you.” He placed his hand on Sophie’s upper arm to lead her out of the shop. “Shall we head home, sis?”

Rayne was standing there, her hands on her hips, looking very unhappy. Apparently she hadn’t embraced the whole motto regarding the customer always being right.

The bell over the door rang as he and Sophie exited onto the sidewalk and she elbowed him in the ribs, her lips turned up at the corners in merriment.

“You are in so much trouble, big brother. Rayne told you off…but good. I don’t think she’s afraid of you in the least.”

“She should be,” he growled as he thought about how huffy she’d been with him.

The less he saw of Rayne Dunn the better. He’d get his tattoo and then forget she existed.

Women like Rayne were a menace and made a man’s life a misery. He needed to stay professional and far away.

Chapter Two

F
riday night in a small town never changed much. If it was football season, most of the population would be sitting in the stands watching the game and freezing their asses off only to head to the diner or pizza place afterward. Or maybe the local watering hole if they were over twenty-one.

Louie’s was a typical sports bar with pool tables in the back and dart boards on the wall. Big screen televisions circled the large room and there was even a tiny dance floor if a couple became amorous. It was mostly just good fun, but every now and then a few patrons got a little rowdy.

That’s why Dare had been called in tonight.

He strode into the bar, his gaze scanning for trouble and quickly found it. He wasn’t all that surprised. Tim Wallace, Sophie’s latest heartthrob, was punching it out with his older brother Duke Wallace over something stupid. At twenty-eight the guy was living on his past glories as quarterback of the high school team. Meanwhile in the present, he hung around bars and worked odd jobs to make beer money.

Tim wasn’t exactly Dare’s favorite person either. He had a job at least, but Duke had way too much influence on his little brother and this brawl highlighted that fact. Tim hadn’t been dating Sophie long but he looked at her like…dammit…like he wanted her and that sure as shit wasn’t going to happen.

Dare pointed to Duke, who had just taken a nasty punch and was leaning against a pool table, blood trickling down his chin. “Billy, grab Duke and I’ll get Tim.”

Letting his deputy handle Duke – all the cops in Valley Station had plenty of practice dealing with him – Dare grabbed Tim by the arm and spun the younger brother around. Tim needed an attitude adjustment and Dare was the man to give it to him.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Dare dragged Tim back, one hand on his arm and the other on his shirt collar. Tim struggled, but Dare had forty pounds of muscle on him and easily moved him from the fray.

“Dammit, Dare. Duke was asking for it.”

“I don’t doubt it, but you aren’t required to give it to him. Just calm the hell down and keep your family feuds out of public places.”

The younger man was breathing heavy, his lip swollen and his knuckles bruised. Dare could feel the waves of anger coming off Tim so he placed himself directly between the two fighters.

“He’s a son of a bitch. He deserved it.”

Probably, but that wasn’t the point. “Start at the beginning. If your story is halfway decent, I may not have to throw your ass in jail tonight. How do you think Sophie will feel if you spend the night in my drunk tank?”

“I ain’t drunk,” Tim denied, his neck and face red with anger. “Just had a couple of brews.”

Sadly, the same couldn’t be said for Duke. If it weren’t for Deputy Billy the man wouldn’t be standing on his own two feet. He was wobbling but still belligerent as hell, barely letting Billy get a word in.

“Talk,” Dare commanded, getting right in Tim’s face. For the life of him he couldn’t see what his little sister saw in the guy.

“We were playing pool and things got heated. I told him he was a greedy bastard, always living off my hard-earned money and he called me a momma’s boy.”

“So that’s why you hit him?” Dare asked, his voice deadly soft. Tim blanched at the unspoken anger in Dare’s tone. The entire incident underlined how Wallace wasn’t the man for Sophie.

“He–he said that I needed to grow up…”

Both men did, that was clear. Dare took a few deep breaths and tried to remember that he was the law in this town. That meant loudmouth punks like Duke and Tim were going to say stupid shit.

“Anything else?”

Tim’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Yes. He said that paying for things was all I was good for. That’s when I hit him.”

So Tim had taken the first swing. For a semi-good reason, but he still shouldn’t go around punching people. Even people that heartily deserved it. Dare believed in the karma universe. He’d seen it do its magic many times and he never ceased to be amused by how accurate it was despite its mystical origins.

“Stay here and don’t fucking move.”

Tim ran his sleeve over his bleeding lip and nodded, suspiciously watching Duke who was telling Billy his side of the story. Dare needed to hear it for himself. He strode the small distance between the two men until he was looking down at Duke almost nose to nose. The man reeked of booze, weed, and sweat, and once again Dare had to question his own wisdom in becoming a lawman. He should have gone into something else, anything else. That was better than dealing with fools and drunks on a regular basis.

“What’s the story, Duke?”

Duke pointed to Tim standing a few feet away. “My brother swung first. I was just defending myself.”

“Yep, you were just sitting in the corner reading scripture and minding your own business when Tim punched you, right? Is that your story? Or did you flap your gums and say something you shouldn’t have to provoke him?”

Some of Duke’s bravado seemed to slip and he hunched his shoulders, looking down at the sticky concrete floor. “I didn’t say nothin’.”

“Are you sure?” Dare pressed. “Is it your sworn statement that Tim Wallace punched you out of the blue? That you said nothing about him personally?”

“Shit, Sheriff, no one in this damn town can take a joke.”