Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(99)

“Si, don’t keep us waiting, pendejo.” Then Vic’s warm smile slipped. “You need anything, you call me. Anything at all.”

#

I found an open Fed-Ex store and mailed off the paperwork, paying a premium to have it arrive in two business days. I had to make a mental note to watch my spending now that I was unemployed. Unemployed. Fucking hell.

I wondered with a pang of panic if the inspector tomorrow would demand proof of employment. I thought not. They were from Child Protective Services and only there to make sure Callie had a clean, safe place to live.

But I couldn’t stay there either. Not with things how they were between Alex and I.

My anger had receded like a low tide, leaving only the debris of last night and this morning to clutter up my mind. What I’d done with Alex…I wanted it again. And again. Not just the mind-blowing sex, but sleeping beside her, holding her, waking up to her face every morning...for the rest of my life.

Tell her or move out. Now.

I tore out of my truck and threw open the front door, my heart trying to bang its way out of my chest, but nothing was going to stop me from telling Alex how I felt.

Except for the fact that Alex wasn’t there.

I’d spent half the day fruitlessly driving around the greater Los Angeles area, and now the sun was sitting low and fat in the sky. No note waited for me on the counter, and I had a jolt of panic that she’d already moved out. But a quick peek at her bedroom—the bed sheets still in disarray from last night’s festivities—showed she hadn’t packed anything. But how would I know? She could burn her entire wardrobe here and never miss it.

But something told me she’d be back, and when she walked through the door, I’d tell her what I should have told her in the hospital—hell—in the bank. In the meanwhile, I hadn’t eaten a damn thing all day and was suddenly ravenous.

I rummaged in the fridge to put together a ham and cheese sandwich, grabbed a beer, and settled on the couch to watch my usual ESPN. One bite into the sandwich and my cell phone rang. Georgia.

“Hey.”

“I need you to come over here and watch Callie. Something came up.”

I rubbed my eyes. “And Janice isn’t available?”

“Do you think I’d be calling if she was?”

“Kind of short notice, Georgia,” I said, eyeing my sandwich.

A hiss over the line was her irritated sigh. “Is there such thing when it comes to your daughter, Cory? I need to go out and I need you to watch her.”

“How long’s it going to take?” I asked, thinking of Alex and our long-overdue talk.

“Jesus, Cory, you can’t spare a few hours for your kid? It takes as long as it takes.”

I bit back an angry retort. “I’ll be right there.” I jabbed the phone to hang it up and scrounged in the kitchen for a pen and paper to leave a note for Alex.

I need to talk to you. Tonight. Wait up for me?

~C

I set it in the center of the counter and hoped I wasn’t going to be so late that she even needed to wait for me. But it was five p.m. now. Knowing Georgia, I wouldn’t get back to the bungalow until after ten if I were lucky.

I took a parting sip of beer, brought the sandwich with me, and drove another twenty minutes to Culver City, wondering sardonically if Alex walked in the door the minute after I left or a whole five minutes after my truck was out of sight. The way my luck was running today, I was sure I’d just missed her.

#

Georgia answered the door wearing a bohemian-style dress with a tribal pattern, and her blonde hair beaded and braided in a stylish mess. “Hey,” she said, her voice breathy. “Callie’s in her room. I gotta go. I’m already late.”

“Are you okay?” I asked, watching her throw on a beat-up jean jacket. “You seem jumpy as hell.”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Just late.”

“For what?”

“None of your damn business, is what.”

“Mommy said a bad word.”

I swiveled around to see Callie, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. I crouched down to her level. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“She’s upset because I yelled at her about leaving her pen caps off again,” Georgia said. “She got red marker all over my damn chair.”

“I said I was sorry,” Callie said in a small voice. “They’re washable. Says so on the box.”

I looked to Georgia who threw up her hands. “Oh fine. I’m a monster. I’m a monster and I’m late. I’ll be back when I get back.”

She went out, slamming the door after her. I put my hands on Callie’s shoulders. “She’s kind of in a hurry tonight, huh?”

She nodded. “She’s always in a hurry. She yells a lot.”

“A lot?”

Callie nodded again.

“Do you know where she went?” It felt sort of ugly, asking Callie, but I had a nagging feeling about Georgia that I couldn’t ignore.

“Probably to the computer store. She goes there all the time and it’s sooooo boring.”

“Computer store?”

“Yeah, she goes on the internet. To chatmail.”

“What’s chatmail, honey?”

Callie rubbed her nose. “It’s what Mommy says she does on the computer. She chats and emails.” She brightened. “I call it chatmailing!”