Burying Water (Burying Water #1)(50)

“What a mess, though. Jesse’s father almost lost the next election, and everyone knew it was because of that whole fiasco with his son. I can’t imagine it was easy for Jesse being at home after that.”

I think I now know why he stays in that apartment above the attic.

“It could just be coincidence, but my uncle’s neighbor’s friend owns a security company and he said that Ginny had bars put up on her windows not long after. Apparently, she didn’t feel safe with Jesse living next door, even out there in the middle of nowhere.”

I sigh. So this is how rumors spread in a small town.

“I think I slept with him at a party.”

What? My jaw drops and my stomach begins to churn. “You think you slept with Jesse Welles?”

Dakota cocks her head. “What? No! Chuck.” She points out the window. There’s Chuck, leaving Poppa’s Diner across the street.

Relief swells in my chest. But why do I care who Jesse may have slept with?

“In fact, I’m pretty sure I did. My junior year? Or maybe sophomore?” Amber suggested that the “Dakota stories” extended beyond laced brownies and five-leafed plants in her backyard and into the beds of many guys, both in high school and older, both married and not. Dakota has called herself a “free spirit” on more than one occasion, so this shouldn’t surprise me.

It certainly doesn’t sway me. I still like her. Plus, who am I to judge? Maybe I was a “free spirit” too. Thanks to the baby that I lost, I know that I wasn’t a virgin when I was attacked, though I may as well be for all I remember. And given that no one seems to be looking for me, I must not have been in a relationship. But who have I slept with? Just the father of my child? Was there anyone else before him?

“Water? Are you okay?”

I realize that I’m standing in the window like a mannequin, and two elderly ladies are staring at me. “Yeah. Fine.” With a brief wave to them, I pick the quilt up off the floor. “So what was wrong with the stereo?”

“Oh! It was unplugged. I must have bumped it somehow.” She disappears behind the curtain once again to begin flipping through the stations. “So, what kind of music do you like?”

I frown. “I don’t know.” There aren’t any radios at Ginny’s. She prefers complete silence and curses Sheriff Gabe when she can hear country music playing from his car. Meredith always has talk radio on. Amber likes pop music. I heard alternative rock coming from the garage when Jesse was there. If I had to pick, I’d probably go with that.

Dakota’s head pokes out from around the beaded curtain. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

I smile. “I’m easy. Pick whatever you want.”

“Good. Call me weird, but I’m really digging trance lately.” A hypnotizing electronic sound pumps through the speakers.

It slides down my spine like a cold, wet finger.

And now I know what kind of music I definitely don’t like. Not at all.

NINETEEN

Jesse

then

“Welles!”

I peer out from the engine I’ve been buried in all afternoon to see Miller approaching me. “Mr. Petrova wants you at his house.”

My face screws up. “What for?” I left him a full-page list on Saturday night. I’m guessing some of that stuff will take weeks to get in.

Shit.

Did Alex come clean with him? A guy like Viktor would probably beat the hell out of her and then come after me.

I get no answer from Miller. Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I tap out a text to Alex, leaving greasy fingerprints on the screen.

V wants me to come over tonight. Do you know if he got parts?

I don’t want to put much more in writing, in case Viktor ever snoops through her phone. I drop it into my breast pocket and stare at the engine I’ve been working on, wondering if I need to be worried, while I wait.

Ten minutes later, my phone vibrates. I hold my breath.

Some boxes arrived today and he had them dropped in the garage.

“Thank f**king God,” I mutter, hanging my head, my chest suddenly lighter. It shouldn’t surprise me that the guy can get impossible-to-find, incredibly rare parts in less than forty-eight hours.

A second text comes in a moment later:

I won’t ever say anything. I promise.

Guilt swells for doubting her. I answer:

I’ll see you tonight, I guess?

It’s a full minute before I get a response.

I can’t ever do that again. I was hurt and wanted to do something hurtful. It was wrong.

I sigh and type out:

I know. It’s okay.

It’s not okay. Because it’s only been seven hours since I left the hotel and I miss her. Because I already want her again. And because I want to believe that what happened between Alex and me was more than simply her getting even.

The Shelby sits in front of the garage when I pull up to Viktor and Alex’s house.

“Jesse!” he exclaims, waving at me from the walkway. It’s so unlike him, I wonder if he’s drunk on a Monday at six p.m. “I am glad Miller gave you my message.”

“So you got the parts already?”

He smiles. A snakelike look. “Connections, my friend.”

I’m not his friend, but what the f**k ever. The sooner I’m done with this job, the better.