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“What about the rest of the houses in your neighborhood?” Linc asked.
“None of them were affected. Just ours,” he answered. “And it’s looking like he hoped that the fire would smoke us out, because across the street at Craig’s place, there’s a spot where it looked like someone hunkered down for a while. As if he was staking the place out. Watching our movements.”
“Then he likely would’ve seen y’all leave, right?” Bayou grumbled from beside us as we all walked up to the gate entrance.
“You’re right,” Slate grumbled. “If he was there that long, then he had to have seen us leave. Yet he waited until hours after we were gone to set the fire.”
“How do you know all this already?” Hoax asked.
“I have a couple of buddies still on the force,” he answered. “Who happened to be there when her dad arrived.”
I felt my belly tighten at the knowledge that I should probably go back home to deal with this. Yet the thought of leaving Slate literally scared the bejesus out of me.
My father would allow me to move back in with him, and I would if push came to shove.
However, I wanted to stay with Slate. I wanted to pretend like those phone calls didn’t just happen.
I wanted to pretend like nothing was happening and let someone else deal with the shit that was swirling around.
Worrying wouldn’t do me any good. I didn’t have any answers right now. And I sure the hell had no idea what I would need to do to protect myself.
So instead, I decided that for now I was just going to bury my head in the sand and ignore everything else.
There would be enough time to worry about that all later.
Which was why ten minutes later, as we were making our way to our seats, I smiled at the captain and said what I said next.
“Oh!” I walked up to the pilot. “Can I take a picture in there?”
And that was how Slate ended up taking a picture of me sitting in the cockpit with two pilots beside me laughing their asses off.Chapter 14If I got rid of everything that didn’t spark constant joy in my life, I’d be left with Harleigh and my motorcycle.
-Slate’s secret thoughts
Slate
The plane ride was the nicest one I’d ever experienced. At least comfort wise.
The plane ride itself still sucked.
After getting onto the plane and leaving Harleigh to converse with the pilots about ‘what that switch does’ and what ‘pulling down on that lever’ accomplishes, I popped a few Dramamine.
Once securely buckled into my seat and backpack safely stowed in the overhead bin, I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down.
I’d never been a good flyer.
In fact, if I had to say anything about all of my flying experiences, it would be that they definitely weren’t something I would like to ever remember.
In fact, I hated them. Hated everything about flying.
Glancing over at the sound of something falling and hitting the floor, I narrowed my eyes when I saw that the seat across the aisle from us was filled with Linc and his wife, Conleigh.
Great.
My biggest fan right next to me for two and a half hours.
I returned my eyes forward, ignoring the fact that the bag Linc had dropped had spilled all out on the floor of the aisles.
Something rolled and hit my foot, and I leaned forward and picked up a bottle of water and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” Linc grumbled reluctantly.
I barely stopped myself from grinning.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I closed my eyes once again and returned to what I was doing before…trying not to freak the fuck out.
I didn’t really know what it was about planes, trains, and automobiles.
I’d always gotten motion sick. In fact, today when I’d learned that the only part of my house that burned was the garage—including the truck and Vanessa’s car—I was honestly relieved. Insurance would pay for the damage of both the house and the vehicles, and I wouldn’t be stuck with Vanessa’s SUV anymore—the one I’d tried countless times to give to my sister who just kept giving it back—making me feel obligated to drive it.
Vanessa’s SUV had been a birthday present for her. A present that was expensive as fuck, and her dream car. She’d been excited as hell at getting it, and she hadn’t even driven it but a handful of times.
I’d finished paying it off while I was in prison—my sister luckily keeping up the payments on it by using my savings to pay for it, and when that had run out, her savings.
Honestly, I should just give the money that I got from the insurance payout to her at this point. It made the most sense.
The seat next to me jolted, and the seatbelt started to clank.
I opened one eye and peeked out at Harleigh.
