But she stood there and said nothing.

“So, I’m guessing from what little you said, your dad is out,” he prompted.

Suddenly, she couldn’t meet his eyes and she was stammering again.

“I…maybe I…well, what I mean is, maybe I can stay tonight, in Mo’s old bed,” she said the last four words very fast. “And tomorrow, I can figure out what I’m gonna do.”

She didn’t have anywhere else to go.

She didn’t have anyone to look after her.

He remembered then all she’d said about her family.

“Are you keeping them safe from this shit?” he asked, in case he’d assumed wrong.

“My stepdad, Rob, has guns, but if he knew this degenerated the way it has, he’d take them to the county jail in order to try to shoot Mick and at this current moment, I can’t deal with two family members in the pokey. One was already too many.”

At least her stepdad didn’t sound like a jackass.

Though she’d said the man was a cheater, so strike that.

It was then he noticed what she was wearing.

“What’s Computer Raiders?” he asked.

“My second job,” she muttered.

What?

“You got a second job?”

“Tuition doesn’t pay itself.”

He stood solid as it hit him, she did not have anyone looking after her.

Mac had told him she was twenty-seven, so not the usual age of a kid out of high school hitting a university with her parents’ help.

But she also didn’t demand he take her to her mom’s and her dad sounded like a dick.

So, she didn’t have her parents’ help.

She didn’t notice his reaction.

She spoke. “Okay, so, um, we have a plan. I’ll sleep on it tonight, here, thank you for offering. And I’ll come up with a plan to tackle this situation tomorrow.”

He’d take that because he knew she’d sleep on it here for the foreseeable future.

But if he had to see to her doing that one day at a time, then he would.

“Yeah, we have a plan,” he agreed.

“Is there a drugstore close? I should get a toothbrush.”

He tugged her belt loop and brought her a little nearer.

But he didn’t push it, stopped and said, “You hang with your new pal, Fireball, and I’ll go out and get you one. You had dinner?”

She nodded. “But I can go with you. And we’ll get you something to eat.”

He’d boil some pasta.

“I’m covered.”

“Danny—”

“Babe, I got food here. I’m good. You want a toothbrush, I’ll get you a toothbrush. Then we can hunker down and regroup to tackle tomorrow.”

She nodded then looked him up and down, turned her head to take in the room, came back to him and stared at his chest a beat before she lifted her eyes to his face.

“Why were you there?” she asked

“Where?”

“At my place after I…after what I said last night?”

It was moot now, why he was there.

“I think I mentioned I like you.”

“Danny,” she whispered.

He decided to let her in on his plan.

Kind of.

“We’ll get you through tonight. Then we’ll get you through tomorrow. And onward. One day at a time, Evie. Now call Smithie and let him know you’re not gonna make it tonight.”

“He’s gonna freak,” she muttered. “He doesn’t like his girls in jams.”

Mag knew the feeling.

“He’ll be more pissed you kept it from him. Call,” he urged.

She nodded, then, when she bent her head to open her little bag, he reluctantly let her belt loop go.

She stepped away to make her call, so Mag pulled out his own phone and texted Mo.

Word?

“It’s okay, Smithie,” he heard her say as he turned to the pantry to find some pasta. “I’m with Danny.” Pause then, “He’s a friend of Mo’s.” Pause and then a soft, “Yeah.”

That made Mag grin.

And his night continued its upswing, which was the only way it could go, when he got Mo’s reply.

Hawk’s making the calls.

Hawk would get him in to see her brother.

Then Mag would find out what the fuck was going on.

He’d take care of it and make Evan safe.

And then he could focus on other things concerning Evie.

Like her second job.

Her fucked-up family.

And getting her back to school.

Chapter Seven

Do Over

Mag

To say Mag was antsy and getting more pissed by the second was an understatement.

He, Mo and Hawk were standing in a room at the county jail, waiting to be shown to another room that had Evan’s brother in it.

And they’d been standing there for over half an hour.

Evie was home, with his buds Boone and Axl, the bottle of Fireball and zero knowledge this was what he was doing.

When he’d received word that Hawk had arranged the meet, he’d called Boone to ask him to come keep an eye on Evie while he was at the jail.

And, of course, Boone had brought Axl so they both could get a good look at her, assess her suitability for Mag, as well as take her back while Mag was away.

Regardless of the fact that Boone and Axl were Hawk’s boys, both were built, and it was unmistakable they could handle themselves, it took Evan visible effort to allow him to walk out the door to see to some vague “business.”

She was still freaked.

It was natural.

But it served to piss him off even more.

He did not like leaving her.

He did not like keeping his whereabouts from her.

He needed to get this done, find out what was happening, form a plan, go home to her and share where he’d been and what was going on.

And all that started with, at some point, clapping eyes on Evan’s brother.

“As much as I appreciate you sorted this meet for me, Hawk, I got a woman at home who started this fucked-up shit with me at her side and didn’t like me leavin’ her tonight when it got ugly,” he growled at Hawk, who cut his eyes to Mag. “If this is not gonna happen, I gotta get back to her.”

“Let Slim do his thing,” Hawk replied.

Mag opened his mouth right when the door opened, and Brock “Slim” Lucas stood in it.

Brock looked to Hawk, to Mag and back to Hawk before he proved he was adept at reading people when he said, “I better not regret this.”

“He’s my man, Slim,” was all Hawk said as reply.

Four words from Hawk served two purposes.

The first, Brock nodded, jerked his head to the hall to indicate they should follow him and moved out of the door.

And the second, Mag was reminded that his behavior reflected on Hawk, so he had to keep his shit tight.

Mag glanced at Mo, whose eyes were locked to Mag, his expression blank, but as usual with Mo, his bud found alternate ways to communicate.

And the stiff line of his humongous frame, the tension in his neck, veins popping there, shared how he felt about one of his woman’s friends being in a situation.