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Oh, shit.
I open the door and slide out, then whistle nice and loud for her.
Her head snaps in my direction, and relief floods her face. I jump back in the truck, start the ignition and head her way. She’s running in my direction, and I can see the tear tracks and flush on her face. I’ve barely come to a stop when she opens the door and jumps in.
“Get me the hell out of here,” she says with a broken voice.
43
BINS AND DOCKS
JOSH
I let out an exhale as quietly as I can so as not to get Cassie’s attention. I don’t want her to know about the inner struggle I’m battling at the moment. She’s had enough shit to contend with of late, but I don’t feel right not showing her the box. Not showing her what’s in the box.
I come up with an idea, and instead of taking the road back to Austin, I head toward the docks.
A few moments later, she gets the notion that I’m not heading home and casts me a sideways glance. At least, not to the home in Austin. And let’s face it, technically, she didn’t tell me to take her home. She simply said to get her the hell out of there.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To the docks.”
“I thought as much. Why?” She brings her legs up, feet on the seat, tucks them against her body, and puts her chin on her knees.
“So we can talk.”
“Can’t talk and drive?” She smirks, and I’m glad to see this half-smile, even if it’s more smart-ass than not.
“Yeah. I can talk and drive. Just wanted to show you something.”
This time she does a double take. I can feel her gaze on me, intense and curious. Or maybe intensely curious. “What?”
“Hang tight. We’re almost there.” Because I don’t want to tell her. I don’t think I could find the words.
I pull into the docks, get out, open the door for her, then grab the bin from the back.
“Hey, Josh!” Reese is a few boats down. “Hi, Cassie.”
We both wave at him. I take her hand with my free one and help her onto my boat. This isn’t the time to chit-chat with Reese.
She’s staring at the bin. The side that has Jeremiah’s name on it is tucked against my side, so I know she’s got no clue.
After we get inside, I scoot the napkin holder, salt and pepper shakers, Pizza Hut red pepper flakes and parmesan packets, and a few sundry condiments aside and put the bin, with the title facing her in front of her. “Take a seat. It will take a while to go through this stuff.”
She assesses the bin. “Jeremiah. Isn’t that your dad’s brother?”
“Was. He passed.”
“Okay. So…” She shrugs. “Why do I need to see this?”
“It’s going to answer a few questions for you. Maybe even some you don’t know you should have. It sure as hell did for me.”
44
SECRETS AND LETTERS
CASSIE
