Burying Water (Burying Water #1)(23)

“Yes.” I hear the smile in the word. “And they are apparently even harder to rebuild. I have wanted one all my life and have finally found the perfect one. A ’sixty-four model. It is sitting in my garage. Would you be interested in bringing it back to life for me?”

Found. I wonder if that’s code for stole.

It takes a moment for me to realize that I’m still standing there with my dick in my hands while he has already finished and is moving to the sink. Quickly fixing myself, I head over to join him. No, I wouldn’t. You’re an ass**le.

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

You’re an ass**le who thinks you can buy me like you probably buy everything else, including your wife.

“Certainly enough for that car you wanted. What was it, again?”

Fuck. The guy knows which carrots to dangle. “’Sixty-nine Barracuda.” Now he has me interested. “I’d have to see it, see what shape it’s in.”

Viktor smiles at my reflection in the mirror. “That is fine. Mr. Miller will tell you where to go. Have a good night.” He strolls out of the washroom, leaving me staring at his tall, lean form in his tailored charcoal suit as he exits.

I’ll be told where to go. I’ll bet that’s how Viktor operates. Well, f**k him. I don’t operate like that. Still, rebuild a ’64 DB5 and make enough to get myself my car? I’m going to have a hard time turning that one down, even if he’s an ass**le.

When I reach the table, Viktor and Alexandria are gone. There’s really no need for me to be here. I grab my jacket off the back of my chair.

Boone frowns at me. “Where are you going? Priscilla and her friend are getting off soon. They want to come by for a drink.”

“I’m out.” I tell him what happened in the bathroom. By the time I’m done, his mouth is hanging open.

“Rust tells me he’s got one helluva vintage car collection. You’ll blow your load if you get to see it.”

“We’ll see,” I say as I head out, wondering if blowing my load over Viktor’s cars will be more acceptable than wanting to blow it over his wife.

TEN

Jane Doe

now

“There’s no reason to keep you here longer, Jane.”

Dr. Alwood sits on the empty bed beside me, stripped of sheets after Ginny’s departure early this morning, delivering the news that I knew was coming. Nausea bubbles up inside me.

“We’ll want to continue some outpatient physio and your visits with Dr. Weimer, of course, but hospital administration won’t approve the additional medical bills for keeping you here. You don’t really want to be stuck in a hospital, staring at these same beige walls, do you?”

I bob my head absently, the desire to wrap my sheet around me in a cocoon overpowering. The little that I know in life is about to be taken away from me. I get it, though. Dr. Alwood, Amber, the hospital—they’ve done all that they could for me. I’m not their problem anymore. Now I’m my own problem.

If my chest were still hooked up to the heart monitor, that beeping would be going wild right now.

What the hell do I do next?

“Jane? Are you okay?”

Pain shoots through my jaw as I clench my teeth. I really hate that name. “I just . . .” Hot tears begin rolling down my cheeks. “I don’t know where I’m going to go.”

Understanding takes over her face, followed by a look of sympathy. “Did you think we’d just open the doors and kick you to the curb?”

I feel a salty droplet reach my top lip.

She clears her throat. “I’ve been looking into a few options and I see two. The first is a shelter. There are two all right ones in the Bend area. You’d have to share space with the other single females, so there’s really no privacy. Administration has already called them. They can accommodate you.”

I wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. “Are you trying to sell me on this shelter?”

A soft smile touches her lips. “No. I’m not a fan myself of option one.”

“Okay. So what’s option two?”

She pauses. “What did you think of Ginny Fitzgerald?”

“I . . . uh . . .” The sudden change of subject has me stammering. And what do I say? The woman is her neighbor, after all. “She’s not the friendliest person I’ve ever met, but my sample size is rather limited.”

She grins. “Fair enough. She was a bit crotchety, wasn’t she? When she’s on her own turf, she’s not that bad. Coming in here was a big deal for her. It took me months of convincing and making special arrangements to get her to have the surgery done.”

“You told her about me.” I don’t mean for it to sound like an accusation, but that is exactly what it is.

“Yes, I did. I realize that is not only a complete violation of my professional position; it’s also a violation of your trust.” Dr. Alwood has the decency to look sheepish. “But it was important that I tell her. You see, Ginny lives alone on an old ranch next door to us. She’s been there all her life. Her parents both died years ago and she has no family to speak of. She keeps to herself. As I’m sure you can guess, she doesn’t make friends easily.” I chuckle. Thankfully, she joins in. “Anyway, she has an apartment above her garage that I thought might work well for you. For now, at least. It’ll afford you some privacy and quiet. You’ll have us right next door, should anything happen; you can keep an eye on Ginny—she’s nearing sixty-five—and help her out with the horses. God knows she needs the help and she won’t let anyone step foot on her property besides Gabe, Amber, or myself.”