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CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Danny
I’m doingsomething I don’t normally do, laying on my couch being lazy. I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken a day like this.
Just as I’m about to talk myself into taking a nap, my phone buzzes on the coffee table. The name on the display takes me back slightly.
It’s a friend who works for the Bradford Police. We haven’t talked in a while, but we like to catch up every few months.
“Hey Jer.” I put the phone to my ear. “How’s it going?”
“Unfortunately, this isn’t a social call.”
My stomach drops. “Is anything wrong with my family?”
“Nothing is wrong, but you might wanna come down to the gas station. The one off main.”
“Why?”
“I’d rather tell you about it when you get here.”
I’m already up and stuffing my feet in shoes. Grabbing my keys, I put them in my pocket before shutting the door and taking the steps two at a time. “Is it my dad?”
“It’s Hayden.”
The fuck? “Hayden?”
“Just get here as soon as you can.”
He hangs up and I’m left to worry what the hell is going on. My hands shake as I get into the Jeep and fumble getting it started. My heart is pounding as I think about what might be happening at the gas station. What’s normally a fifteen minute drive, I make in five flat. Squealing tires, I jolt to a stop next to Jer’s patrol car.
Without turning the engine off, I bail out, running to the front door. There’s a group huddled and the first person I see is my dad. Jerking the door, I enter, and all I see is chaos.
“If he hadn’t been such an asshole…” Hayden is pointing to a man behind the counter. “Accusing Juan of stealing gas, when I told him I saw who did it, is ridiculous.”
“She didn’t have to be such a bitch…” The guy behind the counter points at her.
“I’ll show him a bitch.” Hayden lunges.
Jer holds her back. “Don’t make me have to arrest you, Hayden.”
“If it would make him eat his bullshit words then I’d let you do it in a heartbeat,” she rages.
A hand goes onto my shoulder. It’s dad. “You’ve got to calm her down. She’s going to get arrested over shit that’s happened to me more times than I care to count,” he whispers.
“Are you willing to admit you accused the wrong person?” Jer asks the guy behind the counter, even though the guy is already handcuffed.
“How do we know he’s the wrong person?” He retorts.
“Because I told you,” Hayden interrupts.
“Or maybe.” Jer puts a hand up. “You could decide to go look at those cameras in there and see what really happened?”
“What if I refuse to?” He struggles against the cuffs.
“Then I’ll tell you to go find another job,” a voice says from behind me.
“Finally!” Hayden screams, throwing her arms up to the sky. “Nancy, this dude is a douche.”
