Until the Tequila (The Killers #3.5)(20)

“Okay, baby. I’ll help you through it.”

“I don’t care about any of it,” she keeps on through her tears and I hold her tight. “All those years … I had grandparents. He said they were good people—heartbroken and never the same after losing their only daughter. How could they have not known about me? How could the state not have looked harder and found them instead of putting me in foster care?”

I stroke her hair and back but don’t say anything because there’s nothing I can say that will make her feel better. Not after all I’ve learned. Nothing will take away the years she had to survive in the system. It’s not lost on me that my mom got clean when I was around the same age she was when her horrors started.

I scoot down the bed and settle us on our sides, her front pressed to mine. “It’s over. I’ll make sure whatever you have to do is as painless as possible and we’ll move on. You’re not alone—not anymore and never again.”

She stops talking and, even though we slept most of the night, her normal vibrant energy is zapped right out of her.

We lie like this for another hour until we’re forced to get up and face the world.

Little did we know, it was about to implode.





13





Rot in Hell





Mary





How many ways can another soul rock your world?

The feeling is nothing short of bizarre and I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it. I hope I don’t. For as long as this lasts, I hope it feels like this each and every time he looks at me, touches me, makes me feel like I’m the only person in the universe and there’s nothing on earth he’d rather be doing than focusing on me.

Me.

He spent the whole day with me at work even though I told him there was no need. He watched me and talked with my clients like they weren’t just my friends, but his too. He wooed Mrs. Reichenberg, an elderly client who was in for her weekly wash and set. She was as serious as a hip-break when she told him he needed “a good, old fashioned haircut” and proceeded to boss me on what that should be. But, I swear, Evan made her blush when he explained to her that, as beautiful as she is, he’s not on the market and she needed to quit hitting on him because he didn’t want me to get jealous. He then gave me a heated look and told me he’ll gladly surrender his beautiful locks to me to do with what I want.

Wetness instantly pooled between my legs at the thought of scheduling Evan for a private appointment.

He brought me a late lunch and a monster Diet Coke.

He played checkers with another client’s five-year-old daughter because her babysitter canceled and, as all women know, World War III would have to break out before a woman would be willing to cancel a hair appointment.

He even scheduled a private wine tasting for my last appointment with all her friends at the winery, but made sure to do it on a night when I work late so he doesn’t miss any time with me.

Evan didn’t need to do any of this. We haven’t seen or heard anything more from my dad. I don’t need a babysitter and would have been fine at work with other people and he knows this. It was unspoken, but he stayed with me today because of the news I learned this morning while sitting in his bed—that I had grandparents and my childhood could’ve been a whole lot different.

It should have been different. No child should be subjected to the horrors of a broken system like I was.

Since Evan pushed his way into my life, my world continues to shift because of him.

I smile to myself on a day I never would have otherwise as I follow Evan where he’s driving ahead of me in his car.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, little dandelion,” he says over the phone.

“Everything you do is a surprise.”

After work, I convinced him I needed my car so he didn’t have to get up and taxi me around tomorrow. He only agreed if I promised to follow. “Is that good or bad?”

I’m quick to answer. “Good. All good. What are we doing?”

He turns west and doesn’t give me any more information. “As long as the weather holds off, we’ll be fine.”

It’s late and the sun has set. When he turns onto the road that leads to my best friend’s farmhouse and business, I ask, “We’re going to Addy’s?”

“Not really. I’m taking you out into the vines. I don’t have any tequila but do you think you can handle a glass or two of wine?”

My hangover of the decade has long come and gone and my mouth waters at the same time my stomach growls. Our late lunch was many hours ago. “As long as you feed me, too. I’m starving.”

“We’ll raid the kitchen first. I told Addy we were coming.”

My phone beeps and I pull it away from my ear to see who it is. “Hey, I’ve gotta go. July is calling. I texted her earlier about my grandparents. I’m sure she wants to know everything. I’m right behind you.”

“Okay, baby. See you in five.”

I flip over to July’s call. “Hey, you.”

She doesn’t bother with any greeting. “Holy shit! I want to know everything. Do you know if you have any other family?”

My insides clench because my mind hadn’t gone there. “I don’t know. My mom was an only child, but I guess that doesn’t mean there might not be extended family.”