Page 77 of Winning His Wager
He rubbed his head. The OPJ was still making him cloudy right now.
That drug had been nothing but trouble since the moment he’d gotten involved in it. It was all Toby’s fault. His friend had told him about a way to make easy money, and Will had fallen for it. It was all Toby and Oliver and Sammy’s fault his life had turned out like this.
It was their fault, but now Will had to find a way to fix it.
He got back behind the wheel just as his phone rang.
He answered it blindly, hoping it was Abby telling him everything was okay and she was safe.
“Hello, Willy boy. Missing something?”
He could hear his sister screaming in the background.
58
Fletcher’s womanwas running late. He checked the clock again. She was normally home by now unless something had come up at the inn. He checked his cell. She was almost religious about texting him if her plans changed or if she was late or anything.
Nothing.
He would admit he’d been a bit overprotective lately. Hard not to be with her just getting out of the damned hospital. He sent her a quick text.
She wore her Scraggle Popps watch constantly. It had very basic texting features and would chirpA message for you from Jilly Silly!every time she got a text and was paired with her phone. If the watch needed charging, her phone would get the message instead. It was intended for kids, but it was one of her favorite possessions since it had come from her younger sisters a few years ago.
Sometimes, he heard Jilly Silly a million times a day unless Dylan put it on silent. Then it would just vibrate at her.
He texted her quickly.
And waited.
No response.
Fletcher waited ten minutes. Nothing. He tried again.
Another ten minutes passed. He looked at the men next to him. Quade and Brandt and Reese and Kaece had somehow ended up at his place just in time to help him unload the crates with the drones from the semi that had brought them in.
He appreciated the help and understood the men were feeling a little curious too. The drones were awesome to look at and were bigger than he had anticipated. Then they ranged down to one no bigger than a lemon.
Brandt’s cousin had asked Brandt to personally make sure the drones had arrived in case there were any problems that would need rapid repair. “Give me a minute, guys. I need to call Dylan. She should have been home by now. She wants to be here for this.”
“She so has you trained,” Kaece said, smirking at him. “Those Talley girls are seriously dangerous.”
“You have no idea,” Brandt said. “But a smart man, a lucky man, won’t exactly complain. I’m going to call mine too. We have plans for this evening.”
“Going somewhere special?” Quade asked.
“Home. I’m taking her to my place for the night. Her daddy and stepmother are out of town. We’re going to enjoy some quality time without Daddy glaring at me every time I turn around.” Brandt and Meyra’s father were very close friends, but Gerald was struggling with the idea of his baby girl being involved with a man. Dylan liked to goad him a bit when she could.
“Congrats. I’m still trying to shake Asshole Talley. He stops by every damned night to make sure I’m taking care of his baby girl appropriately.”
Dylan had told her father the night before that he’d just interrupted Fletcher taking very good care of her, and he’d better leave, or Arthur was going to catch her getting nekked again.
Fletcher had laughed for an hour at the look on her father’s face.
They hadn’t done anything—she hadn’t been given the all-clear yet. But it sure had been fun to traumatize Arthur.
He stepped back inside.
He had a call to make.