Burying Water (Burying Water #1)(56)

Though it’s not obvious with his accent, I’m pretty sure he’s slurring. I answer him by turning the key. The engine fires instantly.

Viktor’s mouth drops open and a stupid grin stretches across his face. Behind him, Alex steps out of the passenger seat, her face pale, her eyes lined with smeared makeup. Stumbling forward, Viktor slaps the roof of the car and nods slowly. “You are a hard worker.”

Not sure what to say to that, I simply shut the engine off.

“So, is it done?”

“Just about. It’ll be ready to go to your body shop by tomorrow tonight.”

“Perfect. I can send it away just before I leave for St. Petersburg. Did you hear that, Alexandria? My car is almost finished.”

Viktor is going to Russia. That’s news to me. Is Alex going with him?

“That’s wonderful, Viktor.” She gives him a weak smile.

He looks back at me and rolls his eyes. “Tomorrow, then.” Without waiting for my answer, he walks back out, grabbing the back of Alex’s neck on the way. There’s nothing about it that looks gentle or loving.

I take a step forward but her hand lifts, palm out, quietly telling me to stay put. “Come, my wife. Your husband works so hard for you. Time to make him happy.”

I grit my teeth as I watch them disappear around the corner. The front door slams a few seconds later. I can’t pack up my shit fast enough. Slapping my fist against the garage door button, I’m gone in under two minutes. I have a good idea of what’s happening upstairs right now.

And I hate it.

TWENTY-TWO

Water

now

I wake with the loud bang outside my open kitchen window. A sinking dread takes over as I lie frozen, not breathing.

And then the yelling starts.

“That’s what an agreement is, Jesse!”

“This changes everything!”

“No, it hasn’t. Not for her.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“You . . . you can’t just change your mind!” Though Sheriff Gabe’s voice is naturally commanding, he has always kept the volume of it in check. Until now. “This was your idea.”

“And it was a f**king stupid one, Dad.” A car door slams. “I can’t do it.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“You’re right! I don’t. I’ve already quit my job and moved out of my apartment. I’ve got nowhere to go.”

Jesse’s moving back? A small thrill spikes in my chest with the prospect of seeing him every day, even as I wonder what caused it. Maybe it has something to do with that girl in Portland that Amber mentioned.

My curiosity pulls me out of bed. I run on tiptoes across my apartment to the kitchen window that offers a perfect view of the front of the garage. Jesse and Sheriff Gabe are facing off behind Ginny’s truck, the tail end peeking out from inside the garage. That means he got it working again. I don’t care as much about that right now, though.

“After all I have done . . .” Sheriff Gabe is saying. “Your sister’s in the dark! I’ve lied to my wife and when she finds out . . . I could lose everything with the things I’ve done for you. Things I still can’t believe I ever did. Have you forgotten?”

“How could I ever forget any of this?” Jesse launches the tool in his hand at the wall. Even from here, I can see the split in the plaster from the impact. He turns to rest his hands on the truck’s tailgate, his head bowed.

Sheriff Gabe finally reaches out to place a hand on his son’s shoulder. Jesse brushes his face against his own shoulder.

He’s crying. The cool, quiet guy who’s been in all kinds of trouble is crying.

Jesse steps away from his father and, grabbing a tool from the counter, moves inside the garage, out of view. Gabe follows him in.

I’m wide awake now. But if there’s any more conversation, it’s too quiet to catch. Sheriff Gabe walks back to his house, a flashlight guiding his way, leaving Jesse to toil on Ginny’s truck and me perched on the counter, watching. For hours.

At about three a.m. I catch myself nodding off in my sitting position and have to give my spot up, afraid I’ll fall asleep and tumble. I crawl back into bed, the image of Jesse wiping his tears away lingering as I drift off.

I drag my feet to the landing outside my front door just before eight, wishing I could sleep longer. It’s the first time I’ve actually lazed around in bed upon waking since coming to Ginny’s. Normally, reality hits me like a splash of cold water seconds after my eyes open and I have to get out of bed before I dwell too long on the bad stuff.

Maybe I’m finally settling in.

The horses are already kicking at their stable doors, eager to be free of their confines. I have exactly four minutes before Ginny heads down to the barn and sees that I don’t have them out and fed. I don’t want her to think I’m slacking.

Peering over at the Welleses’ house, I see that Sheriff Gabe’s cruiser is gone, which is normal by this time of day. Even on a Saturday. Amber’s and Meredith’s cars are parked. Amber would have already left for work, and Meredith is no doubt still sleeping. The sleek black car sits next to the closed garage, and the small window hidden within its steeply peaked roof is pushed open just enough to let the fresh air in. Will he be angry if I wake him up in an hour, to get my truck out?