Page 36 of Peaks and Promises

I changed into a clean outfit and packed my work shirts. We brought our bags down to the SUV and put them in the back, then headed for the grocery store.

Our route took us past the diner. Reese slowed to turn at the intersection, and the flash of blue lights in the parking lot caught my eye.

“What’s going on?” I craned my neck to look.

Two police cars were parked outside the diner, both with their lights on. They weren’t there for breakfast.

Then I saw it. Several windows were broken, and the front was covered with haphazard black-and-red graffiti.

“Shit,” Reese muttered.

“Can you stop?” I asked. “I need to find out what’s going on.”

He gestured to the diner. “We can see what’s going on.”

“I know, but I need to know if anyone got hurt. I’ll text Tess and see if she’s here.”

“Fair enough.”

We pulled in and Reese parked on the far side of the lot as I sent Tess a text. She replied immediately, saying she’d be out in a second.

A moment later, she came around from the back door.

“Stay with Nate,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

I got out and gave my surroundings a quick glance. Even outside, the air felt thick with tension.

“You probably shouldn’t be here,” Tess said. “Terri’s pissed.”

“Well, yeah.” I gestured to the broken windows. “I would be, too.”

“No, I mean she’s pissed at you.”

“Why?”

A flash of worry crossed her face. “You didn’t see the door?”

“No.”

“They wrote ‘Summer is a whore.’”

My heart dropped, and I gaped at the diner. It wasn’t the first time Mayhem had done something like that. When Nate was a baby, they’d vandalized the coffee shop where I’d gotten a job. A few years later, they’d done something similar at a café.

Both times they’d spray-painted my name, making sure everyone knew I was the target. And both times, I’d lost my job not long after.

“It’s not my fault,” I muttered, more to myself than to Tess.

“I know it isn’t, but Terri’s in there ranting about paying the price for other people’s dumpster fires.”

I rolled my eyes. That woman didn’t have an ounce of compassion. “Of course she is.”

The front door opened, and Terri came out.

“Uh-oh,” Tess said. “You should—”

Too late. She’d spotted me.

“There you are,” she said, her voice laced with venom. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here.”