Page 11 of Violent Little Thing

It didn’t matter that they had video proof that I hadn’t consumed a single drop of alcohol. All the Cottonwoods cared about was that I’d killed their daughter, and I needed to pay.

But what they didn’t know was that I paid every single day.

I woke up each morning, opened my eyes, and remembered what I’d lost. Remembered what I’d killed.

I replayed the accident in my mind, over and over again. It also invaded my dreams.

Literally, there wasn’t a single second that went by that I didn’t replay everything that I’d done wrong that night.

“Needless to say, she wants nothing to do with us,” Beau murmured. “Not that I blame her. I love her like my own sister, and I protect her any way that I can. But I do her the courtesy of staying away. That way she doesn’t have to be reminded.”

“Are you sure that’s what she even wants?” I asked. “What if she only wants to see you?”

Beau shrugged. “Then she can ask for it. But until she does, I’ll stay away.”

“You don’t think that she can figure out who paid her rent?” I chuckled.

“I’m hoping that she doesn’t consider me. Otherwise, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

My gaze went to the door where she disappeared, and I saw her yank open the truck door of a seventies model Ford and slam the door.

She could barely see over the steering wheel.

“What is she? Five foot?”

“Four eleven.” Beau chuckled. “And that’s another thing. Don’t talk about her height. She’s sensitive about it.”

I would find out over the next year that she wasn’t only sensitive about her height and Seraphina Vanderbilt.

She pretty much hated everything and everyone.

Including me.

Especially me.

Two

Stop avoiding your banking app. Go look at what you’ve done.

—Charleigh’s secret thoughts

Charleigh

One year later

“I hate my job. I hate my job. I hate my job.”

“Hate, hate, hate,” my macaw, Peter, short for Peterbilt after my favorite trucks, parroted.

I stood naked in the middle of my room, staring at my closet and wondering what I could wear that would make my boss not come onto me today.

Hell, not even a nun’s habit would do.

He’d find something sexy about it, and then I’d just be hot and uncomfortable for the rest of the day.

I was two hops and a skip away from quitting.

The only thing that was keeping me there was my good friend, Birdee.