The Terms of Release
““Nope. We’re good.” He had been too. Sitting here since five, watching everything and eating a piece of pumpkin pie. He’d worn his ass out today—hitting the pawn shop to pay off Penny’s vet bill and fix his window, deal with his hysterical momma, and make sure the gate was shored up.
He was dragging ass.
Wilma summoned a smile for him. She was a good woman, but her worry about him being her protection for the evening showed in her eyes. Bulldog had been the only one who was confident. “You kick some ass if you need to, son,” he’d said.
He would. No way he’d let anyone down today. He turned his coffee cup around and around, listening to everything going on.
Rick and Lena were the last customers and they left at seven thirty, and Sage got to work helping with the cleaning up. He knew tonight Wilma would want him to mop, so he started stacking chairs.
“You’re a good man, Sage Redding.” Wilma’s voice was soft and fond, and he didn’t know what to say.
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