Trouble With the Law by Becky McGraw Page A

It was a 'go bag' in case they had to leave quickly.  In case he had to leave quickly.  And right at this moment, Trace couldn't leave quickly enough to suit him.
    "Wait!" Ronnie shouted and ran over to him.  "Where the hell do you think you're going?" she asked.
    "I'm leaving.  You have someone to take care of you.  You don't need me," he said as he stood and put the strap of the bag over his shoulder.
    "He's here to help us ," Ronnie said with a huffed breath.
    "The only help I need is to get the fuck away from you, before you get me killed," Trace spat and walked past her down the hall.
    "I have a place for you to go where you'll be safe, Vee," Conner said to Ronnie when she came back into the living room following Trace.
    Well wasn't that perfect?  The pet name the man used for Ronnie echoed through his skull and just wouldn't settle into his brain.  Vee ?  It was too feminine and playful to be associated with the stubborn, ballsy redhead standing at his side.
    He looked at her.  "See, Vee ?  Pretty boy has you all set," Trace said sarcastically.  His fist tightened around the strap on his backpack, and he made himself walk out the door. "See you around, Shark Lady." 
    He stopped on the stoop for a second to look up at the beautiful sunset and took a deep calming breath.  Trace couldn't save her from herself.  He could only hope that Pretty Boy knew what he'd just bitten off, and that the man could indeed take care of her.  Because, from here on out, Trace was going to take care of himself.  And he wasn't trusting a damned soul.  Seth had parked his motorcycle in the backyard, so he walked back there and pushed it through the wooden gate.  He got as far as the sidewalk, when he noticed a familiar looking truck turn onto the dead-end street. 
    How in the hell had Ray Brown found him?
    Seth?  No, he tossed that idea, because Seth would have just called Ray Brown to pick them up on the side of the road at that park, if he was in on this. 
    Ronnie?  No, it couldn't be her either.  She called the attorney dude, but she wouldn't have clued Ray Brown in as to where they were.  She had to know he was going to kill her if he found her. 
    That left a ttorney dude.  Trace took off running back to the house and burst through the door.  Ronnie was sitting on the sofa beside the man.  Trace bent over the couch and jerked Pretty Boy up by the collar, then shouted,  "Go get some clothes out of Sarah's room, Red— Hurry !"
    "Trace, what the hell are you—" she screeched and grabbed his arm.
    "Get your ass dressed, Red.  Ray Brown is right down the street!"
    "But how?" Ronnie asked.
    "Ask your fucking friend , here," Trace grated.  "You have thirty seconds to get some clothes on, Ronnie, or I'm hauling you out of here naked," Trace warned. 
    “I didn’t tell him you were here, or what happened,” Ronnie said with a huff as she headed down the hallway.
    The man started struggling, and Trace pulled the pistol out of the back of his pants and twisted his arm up behind his back.  "Keep your ass still, you sonofabitch, or I'll shoot you."
    " I don’t know anything.  I swear —" Pretty boy growled, trying to pull his arm away. 
    Trace put more pressure on his arm and he groaned.  "Shut your damned mouth," Trace ground out, shoving the pistol into his ribs.
    Conner twisted his neck to meet Trace’s eyes..  "You're making a mistake," he said angrily.
    "The only mistake I made was trusting Veronica Winters.  I won't be making the same mistake with you."
    "Vee and I are the only ones who can get you out of this mess," he said with a grunt as Trace tightened his hold on his arm.
    " Conner is right, Trace," Ronnie chimed in as she walked back into the room wearing an outfit that looked ridiculous.  The shorts were at least two sizes too small for her, she couldn’t even put the button through the hole on the waistband.  The shirt didn’t even cover her middle.  Sarah was petite and Ronnie was Amazon