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It was over. I had to come to terms with that.
Shit, I probably should’ve been more focused on Cruz, but with security swarming my sister’s wedding and the small size of his operation, it would be OK. Interpol had worked with the FBI back in Florida to bring him down.
From what my sources had told me, Cruz had squealed like a piggy and his remaining cronies and associates had been rounded up. Smooth talker? Yeah. Tough guy? Not so much. After all, what kind of man sent his daughter after his target?
It was a relief that calling in the cops had done nothing but speed up the capture process.
I’d been too stubborn. Convinced that I had to do it on my own—I’d also assumed Cruz wouldn’t send just his daughter to do the “deed.”
None of it really bothered me now, though. Not Emmy’s anger or Cruz’s bullshit attempt to get my tech.
I wanted more of Summer. I wanted to lose myself in her and forget about everything, and that was the problem.
I could never open up like that again. Fact was, losing someone else wasn’t an option. It was better to end things before they’d even begun.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Summer
Four weeks later…
This wasn’t happening.
It wasn’t a real thing that was happening.
But the paper bag in my hand said otherwise. It was light, but good lord, in my mind it weighed a ton. I exited the drug store, my stomach twisting and turning. From nerves. Not anything else.
I was still in my uniform from the diner, a pink dress that swept past my knees and cinched at the waist with a white apron. My purse hung over my shoulder, and my comfy tennis shoes were already dirty from being out on the street.
I hit a taxi stand and waited, impatiently, tapping my heel.
It’s nothing. You’re fine.
I hadn’t heard from anyone in weeks. I’d had only one call with Emilia since she’d come back from the Bahamas. I’d apologized again, and she’d kind of accepted it, but things still weren’t what they’d once been.
We hadn’t hung out. And I’d thrown myself into work and focusing on my goals instead of the pain of losing my best friend.
And Matt.
What the hell was wrong with me? My feelings were all over the place.
I tightened my grip on the brown paper bag, and it crinkled against my sweaty palm. The humidity had reached its peak today. Even if I’d planned on going home and showering, I’d have been as wet before as after.
I grabbed a taxi home and paid for it, dreading going back to my tiny room and hearing the arguing, the barking, the occasional mysterious thump. But worst of all, the fact that I couldn’t go home now and fix myself something to eat and relax.
I had to take a test.
Oh god. Oh god.
I walked up the steps to my front door and inserted the key.
“Hello, dear.” Mrs. Krimmel stood at the base of the stairs, hugging her Chihuahua, Chocolate, to her chest. “How are you?” Mrs. Krimmel wore her hair in curlers and a pink stained robe tied at the waist. Her husband had died two years ago, and she hadn’t bothered moving since.
The one time I’d gone into her house, it had smelled of a combination of mothballs and cigarette smoke.
That’s going to be me one day.
“Are you all right, dear?” Mrs. Krimmel asked. “You’re very pale.”
“I’m fine. How are you?” I asked mechanically.
“Oh, just fine. But did you hear what happened to the Watsons?”
“No, I didn’t.” I’d hardly been home lately. I had a shift from 6:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. at the diner then another one from 2:30 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. at the bar at night. Today was one of my only nights off, and it would be dominated by what might be. What could not be.
“They’re moving out. They got into a domestic dispute last night, and Mr. Watson has left. Apparently, he was having an affair with his secretary. Can you believe that?” Mrs. Krimmel dug a pack of cigarettes out of her robe’s pocket, and the scent of tobacco reached my nose.
How was that possible? I shouldn’t have been able to smell it at this distance.
“That’s terrible.”
“Mm-hmm. Well, I think it was a long time coming. That Mr. Watson was a real piece of work, if you ask me. Would you like to come down and have some cookies and tea?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Krimmel, but I’m really tired.” I tightened my grip on the bag. “I have to, um, get some rest. Big day of work tomorrow.” I still wasn’t anywhere near having the money I needed for the tuition fee at the school. Or the move.
And every student loan I’d applied for had been rejected. With no one to co-sign, I was about as likely to get one as I was to sprout wings and fly to the moon.
