“I’ll do better. I promise. From here on out, the three of us are a team.”
I felt moisture hit my eyes, but for the first time in a week, the tears swimming in my vision weren’t due to sadness. “I’d like that.”
“I’ll let you get back to what you were doing, but we’ll talk soon, yeah? And I’ll take care of Dad tonight.”
“Thanks, Elaina.”
“Don’t thank me, sweetie. It’s my job. I—I love you. You know that, right? I’m sorry I’ve done such a shitty job of showing it.”
“I love you too. We’ll be okay. All of us.”
We rang off a short while later, and as I put the key in the ignition and started the truck, I actually felt like those words were true. We would be okay. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but we’d find our way there.
As I backed out of the driveway and started toward town, a fire lit in my belly from the conversation with my sister. I decided I’d stop by Banks Body and Auto Repair before hitting up the store.
I was getting my car back and severing the very last connection I had with Stone Hendrix.
Chapter Twenty
Willow
My heart beat like a bass drum in the center of my chest as I turned into the parking lot of the garage. The adrenaline was rushing through my veins so fast and hard it felt like they were vibrating beneath the surface.
I slowed the truck, scanning the cars and motorcycles parked all around the lot, looking for one in particular, and breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t spot Stone’s familiar bike anywhere.
Looked like, for once, luck was on my side, and it appeared I’d shown up on one of Stone’s days off.
“Thank God,” I breathed to myself as I steered the truck to the empty spot right outside the office.
I climbed out, mindful to leave my sunglasses on, and stepped out of the heat and into the air-conditioned waiting area.
The older woman behind the counter looked up and me and smiled. “Hi. Can I help you?”
I moved up to the desk and placed my palm on the cool surface. “Yeah, hi. I’m Willow Thorne. I’m here to pick up my car. The Honda Civic?”
The woman’s demeanor shifted, and something flashed across her face that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“Oh, um, hold on. Let me check something real quick.”
She stood up and rounded her desk, heading for a door to my left that led out into the garage.
Too jittery to stand still, I paced the office while I waited, looking at the different pictures of old muscle cars and advertisements hanging on the walls.
When the door opened again, I turned to find the office assistant coming back in with Cannon Banks following after her.
“Hey, Willow,” he greeted in a pleasant tone, a smile on his face. “So you’re here for your car?”
“Yeah. And to return the loaner.”
His brows dipped down into a deep V, confusion filling his eyes. “Willow, that truck you’ve been driving isn’t one of ours.”
It was my turn to be confused. “What do you mean? Stone said it belonged to you guys.”
He shrugged while wiping his hands clean on a white towel. “He asked about a loaner for you, but we didn’t have any at the time. That truck out there is Stone’s personal vehicle.”
What? He’d given me his own truck to drive?
I shook my head to clear the confusion. It didn’t matter: not whose car I’d been driving, not why he’d lent it to me or lied and said it belonged to the garage. None of that mattered.
“Okay, well, still. I’d like my car back.”
I suddenly got the distinct impression that Cannon was all kinds of uncomfortable. “It’s actually not ready yet.”
“How is it not ready? Stone said it would only take a couple weeks to fix and it’s been a month.”
He reached up and scratched the back of his neck. Yep, definitely uncomfortable. “Yeah, it did. I mean—the initial issues anyway. But he’s been working on some other things.”
My stomach plummeted. I couldn’t possible afford for him to make any more repairs. “He didn’t discuss additional work with me,” I said in a panic. “I don’t have the money—”
“I believe he was planning to cover the costs.”
What in the actual hell?
“Maybe you should come back tomorrow when he’s here. He can explain it to you.”
Pfft. Like I’d ever in a million years do that. I was quickly losing my cool, which was a completely foreign feeling for me, and one I honestly didn’t like all that much. “Does the car run in its current state?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Then I’d like it back, please. Now.”
“I can’t do that.”
A tick formed in my eyelid. Thank God for the sunglasses. “You can’t give me my car? Why the hell not?”
“Because even though it runs, it isn’t exactly street legal at the moment, and, well, Stone told me I couldn’t,” he added with a shrug.
“He said you couldn’t.”
“Yep.”
My head was about to explode. “Why?”
“I really think you should talk to him, darlin’.”
The plan had been to avoid him until one of us died of old age or got run over by a car or something, but, in a split second, my plans changed. “Oh, I intend to,” I answered on a growl that sounded almost feral. “Give me his address.”
I’d expected some pushback on that, but Cannon didn’t hesitate to turn around and scrawl the address on a sticky note. Guess he figured the asshole deserved a sneak attack almost as much as I did.
“Thanks,” I snapped, yanking the Post-it off his finger and whipping back toward the door.
“Not a problem. Give him hell, darlin’.”
Stone
I was bent over the open hood of the Chevelle when I heard the deep rumble of a very familiar engine coming up my drive. Knowing exactly what truck was driving up—and shocked as hell to be hearing the sounds of it—I stood tall and grabbed a rag to wipe my hands clean as I moved to the open bay door.
Chief joined me, cocking his head and looking out into the distance just as Big Red came into view. The tires spit up dirt and gravel. I basically lived in the wilderness, so there wasn’t an actual driveway, more of a worn-down path made by years of cars driving along the packed dirt and gravel.
The truck stopped beside where I’d parked my bike, and a second later Willow swung out, slamming the door so damn hard that I winced at the mistreatment of my baby.
But as quickly as my concern for Big Red came, it disappeared the instant I caught sight of Willow.
Despite going to Elite Security more than once this week, I hadn’t caught a single glimpse of her. She hadn’t been there Tuesday when I first showed up. Or Wednesday. Or Thursday. I’d have gone back today as well if Jensen hadn’t threatened to tell Shane that I was acting like a crazy stalker.
I hadn’t been able to help myself. I knew what I was doing was all kinds of fucked up, especially after how I’d shot her down a week ago, but the desperate need to see her—even if she refused to speak to me—had come to life in my chest, turning into this vicious clawing thing that wouldn’t loosen its grip on me.