Thomas's POV
The phone wouldn't stop ringing.
It buzzed against the sticky bar top, the screen lighting up over and over with numbers I didn't recognize and a few I did. The afternoon crowd was thin, just a handful of regulars hunched over their drinks, and every single one of them kept glancing at me like I was the floor show.
I hit the side button again, killing the ringer for the tenth time. Lunch with Kate was still sitting in my stomach like sour milk. That look she'd given me. Cold. Blank. Go to hell. My own daughter. Well, not technically. But I'd raised her, hadn't I? Fed her. Kept a roof over her pretty little head while Marianna fussed over her like she was made of glass.
I dug into my pocket, pulled out a crumpled wad of bills, didn't bother to count them. I slapped the whol
