This place was a temporary stop, and the people in it he was not likely to see again. Dylan needed to remember that and stop all this talking and friendly shit. He didn’t do that. It wasn’t something he’d had, so why then was he enjoying being part of a community again. When he was last here he’d been young and rebellious; now he wasn’t, but still, this place was digging something deep out of him, a longing to belong he hadn’t even known he had.

“So about that ride?” Joe asked him.

“Not sure how long I’ll be here, Joe. I’ll let you know. I have to go, so I’ll see you.”

Getting money out of his pocket, he dropped it on the counter and left without looking back. They were watching him, he was sure of that, just like he knew they’d get around to discussing him and his dysfunctional family. But Dylan didn’t care. He was only here a few more days... a week, tops.

Control, that was how Dylan operated. It made him strong, and stopped emotions from entering his life. He’d tried emotions as a child and hadn’t enjoyed the results, so this was how he’d handle things from now on. No more watching the Trainers and wanting what he’d never have. Dylan knew how things were, and he liked them that way... didn’t he?

Chapter 9

“Biscuits.” Piper read the list in her hand. “She only buys those for Joe,” she added under her breath. Her mom always stocked his favorites, even though he didn’t live in the house, but in his own—granted, on the same land—with Bailey, who was more than capable of buying biscuits.

Something made her look up from the paper in her hand. A feeling she was being watched. Mary Howard stood several feet away, glaring at her.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Howard.” Piper made herself nod and smile. No way was that bitch getting the better of her. “Bet you’re happy to have your son back in town.”

“Just you stay away from him!”

“He’s a big boy, ma’am, he can stay away if he wishes… or not.” Piper shouldn’t aggravate the situation, but she was only human.

The woman opened her mouth to say something, no doubt vile, and snapped it shut again. She then lifted her nose in the air and turned away. Maybe Dylan’s warning to her had worked after all. Normally she would have continued with the insults until Piper was forced to walk away or punch her.

“Woman’s full of poison,” Miss Marla said, coming toward Piper. Nipped in with a wide black leather belt, her red dress had a split up the back and was teamed with black patent heels. Her makeup was as immaculate as her hair.