Trust(58)

Biting into my cupcake, I smiled. Then, once Mom had gone, I picked up my cell and hit his number.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey. You got the stuff?”

“Yes, I did. Thank you.”

“No problem.” A huff of breath. “Sorry ’bout earlier.”

“You had a right to be dubious.” I sighed. “We’re always saying sorry to each other. What’s with that?”

A laugh. “I don’t know.”

“My therapist would probably say we’re interesting personality types working through our issues within the bounds of our relationships.”

“Christ,” he mumbled.

“Hmm.” I took another bite, chewing with delight. “These cupcakes are amazing.”

“Good. I gave Ruby a call and she clued me into what you’d want.”

“The waitress from the roadhouse?”

“Yeah.”

“She knows her stuff,” I said, licking some chocolate frosting off my fingers. “And don’t worry, I’ll get over my weirdness. Chocolate has all sorts of magical healing properties.”

“Okay. Good.”

Neither of us said anything for a minute. Yep, it was a very comfortable long, drawn-out silence. Not awkward at all.

“Anyway, I’d better go,” I said eventually. “Mom wanted to—”

“Right. Yeah. See you at school, Edie.” And he was gone.





Unknown: SOS!!

Me: Who is this?

Unknown: Me, dummy.

Me: ?

Unknown: Anders!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: What do you want and how did you get my number?

Anders: JC gave it to me. His car’s died. Come get us we need a lift to school.

Me: Be there soon.

Anders: For him you do stuff. WHAT ABOUT ME?



By daylight, the two-story home looked even more in need of work, despite the perfection of the garden. Flaking paint and climbing vines hid the potential glory of the place. Guess his uncle was too busy running a business to do much work on the house. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood or anything. Most of the other homes were well maintained, immaculate even. Only John’s place seemed at odds, in need of a little love.

He was bent over the engine. But by the time I got out of my car, he’d progressed to throwing a wrench at the ground before really releasing his frustrations by kicking one of the beast’s tires. “Fucking asshole.”

Whoa.

“Johnny.” A man strode out of the house, wrapped up in an opulent green silk robe. His long hair was thrown over one shoulder, face neatly shaved. “Hey, come on. Calm down.”

Hands on hips, John glared at the beast. “He’s taken the distributor cap.”

The man, in his late thirties maybe, put a hand on John’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Whatever the man said next, I stood too far away to hear. He gestured to an aging silver sedan parked alongside the beast and John shook his head, lips pinched white with fury.

Meanwhile, Anders sat on the lawn, just hanging. “Hey, check it out. Edie’s here, what a happy coincidence!”

John turned to me with a frown.

“’Morning,” I said, pushing my sunglasses up on top of my head.

The heavy frown was redirected to Anders, who just shrugged it off. “What? She goes to our school and we need a ride. Problem solved—you’re welcome.”

Nothing from John. Guess he hadn’t given my number to Anders and asked him to text.

“Hello,” said the man, coming toward me with a hand outstretched for shaking. “I’m Levi. John’s uncle.”

“Edie,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

Levi beamed with pleasure, happy crinkles appearing around his familiar blue eyes. “Grab your bag, John. You don’t want to keep the lady waiting.”

Still looking all sorts of unhappy, John slammed the beast’s driver’s-side door shut before stomping off into the house.

Uncle Levi offered me a wary smile. “He hasn’t had a good morning.”

“No. Doesn’t look like it.”

Once John reappeared, bag on his back, we got moving. He sat slumped in the front passenger seat, staring out the window, his jaw set, while Anders whined about having to take the backseat all the way to a local drive-through coffee place. No matter how mad John was, I needed my fix.

“Want anything?” I asked my passengers.

Anders shook his head.

“Coffee.” John fished a ten-dollar bill out of his pocket. “And I’ll buy yours.”

“That’s not necessary.”

The tone of his voice hadn’t lightened any. “Call it gas money.”

“All right.”

A few minutes later, John had his Americano and I had my double-shot latte. Hopefully caffeine would cheer him up. God knows I found mornings more bearable with some coffee in hand. The rest of the ride to school passed in silence; even Anders kept his mouth shut for once.

“Thanks,” John mumbled upon arrival, spilling out of the car and quickly walking away.

Slowly blowing out a breath, Anders leaned on the back of my seat. He gave my high ponytail a tug. I reached back, swatting at his hand.

“Thanks for coming,” Anders said in a quiet voice. “I crashed at JC’s last night. We played computer games until way past our bedtime. It was great. But it’s really been a suck of a morning.”