Crazy (The Gibson Boys #4)(72)

“Are you there?” Navie asks.

“Yeah. Hang on.”

A pang of anxiety sits in the middle of my abdomen, wearing a hole in my stomach since I opened the door and saw Molly on Peck’s porch. The most frustrating thing about it all is that I trust Peck. I do. I know he would never hurt me intentionally. But the fact remains that Charlie didn’t necessarily set out to hurt me either.



Me: Hi, Joanie. Thanks for the text, and I’m sorry for not responding more promptly. I thought I had a solution to my housing issue, but it turns out, I don’t. I’d love to rent the house. I know I haven’t seen it, but as long as it’s not full of cats, we’ll be fine.



Joanie: Oh, great! I think you’ll love it. I’ll get with Peter and have him get ahold of you. It’s okay to give him your number, right?



Me: Yes, please.



Joanie: Great. He’ll be in touch soon.



Me: Thanks again.



I stare at the screen. The deed has been done.

“Dylannn ….” Navie sings. “Just call me back, fool.”

“I’m here. I’m here,” I say, bringing the phone to my ear. “I just, um … Well, Joanie texted me about the house she found, and I had to make a decision.”

My throat burns as I swallow.

It’s the right choice. I know that. But it doesn’t mean I like the idea of leaving Peck.

Last night, sleeping in his arms, still felt right. Right but just … unsettled. He told Molly that things were different now, but she’s had unlimited access to him for over twenty years. Will she really give up and bow out? She may not have loved him, but she’s owned him, more or less, I think. And me? I’ve only known him for five minutes.

The original plan was for me to move out. Just because things took a turn with us romantically doesn’t mean he’s ready for me to live with him. I’m not sure I’m ready for that either.

That doesn’t mean it’ll feel good to go.

“You told her no, right?” she asks.

“I told her yes. I’ll take it.”

“Um, why? Am I missing something?”

“Well,” I say, “Molly came by last night and—”

“What?” she squawks.

I sigh. “It’s … fine. I think. I guess. I don’t know. I think he did the right thing.”

“Then why are you moving?”

“Because time never hurt anyone. I rushed in to my relationship with Charlie and—”

“He’s not Charlie.”

“Clearly. I just get in over my head all the damn time, and I don’t want to do that with Peck. If things can work out between us, I want it to happen organically. Slowly. Without the pressure of having me already moved in.”

She considers this. “Makes sense.”

I open my mouth to respond, but the words fail to come. Instead, my eyes are glued to a man and a woman who look incredibly familiar. He has a blue hat on his head.

No.

They turn ever so slightly, and I get a better look.

I almost drop the phone.

Molly and Peck. It’s them. Without a doubt. They’re walking across the parking lot next to each other.

Maybe he’s just here getting gas. Maybe Walker needed fuel for something at work. Coincidences happen.

My stomach sloshes, threatening to expel the coffee I drank this morning. I grip the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turn white.

“Navie? I’m gonna have to call you back.”

The words come out wonky. Even I can hear the emotion in my tone.

What the hell is going on?

“What are you doing?” Navie demands. “Are you okay?”

Molly climbs in a little black car, and Peck walks to the other bank of pumps. His truck is partially hidden by the fueling equipment and other trucks in front of it.

The black car speeds out of the parking lot and takes a left. I watch, holding my breath, as Peck comes to the mouth of the parking lot.

Turn right. Turn right towards Crank. Come on, Peck.

“I’ll call you later, Navie.”

I still don’t hang up. I’m too scared to move. If he turns left …

A small gasp squeaks out of my mouth as Peck’s truck turns left. Toward the direction Molly went. Away from Crank.

There’s nothing down that road but a few houses. I ventured that way yesterday morning on a boredom adventure.

“What’s happening?” Navie demands.

I wish I knew.

“Dylan! Damn it.”

“Sorry,” I say. My voice sounds weak. I hate it. “I just, um, well, I just saw Peck follow Molly away from town from Goodman’s.”

“No, you fucking didn’t.”

“Yes, I fucking did.”

“Dyl …”

I put my car in drive. “This doesn’t mean anything,” I tell her. “Maybe it’s a coincidence. And even if it’s not, they’re friends. They’re allowed to be friends.”

“Fuck that.”

“Navie …”

She rambles, her emotions about this situation as all over the place as mine. It makes no sense, and I refuse to believe he’s up to no good.