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So why did he look so hurt when I accused him of attacking Tom?
It was like I stabbed him in the chest.
Jude’s voice whispers in my ear:
You’re not a good judge of character, Remi.
You only see what you want to see…
I shake my head hard.
That’s not true anymore.
I’m going to see what’s right in front of me. I’m going to figure this out. There has to be a way to know what’s going on here, to really know, not just guess…
The light’s still burning at Lou’s Hardware. On impulse, I cross the street and tap lightly on the glass.
Lou answers the door, Rhonda nowhere to be seen.
“Well, hey there, stranger. Haven’t seen you in two whole hours.”
Lou, I have found out, is an absolute sweetheart—every time I visit, he shows me his favorite putty compounds. And Rhonda’s not so bad either, when Dane’s not around.
“Lou,” I say hesitantly. “Do you happen to have any security cameras?”
* * *
27
DANE
The knock on my door at eight o’clock in the morning makes my heart leap. I’m thinking it has to be Remi because Atlas wouldn’t come at this time of day, and nobody else comes here at all.
It’s embarrassing how quickly I roll out of bed and pull on my pants and hustle down the stairs.
I pause briefly in the living room, smoothing back my hair, taking a few breaths so it’s not so obvious how I ran.
I try to tell myself she better be ready with an apology, but I already know I’m going to kiss her the minute she opens her mouth.
The weeks since we last talked have been fucking miserable, and each glimpse of her roaring past on the road in her rickety Bronco have been nothing less than torture. She won’t even look in my direction as she passes, eyes glued firmly ahead on the road.
My only solace has been that nobody’s been going the other way up to her place except Emma and sometimes Jude on his moped at odd hours of the day and night.
If I thought I was lonely before, it’s nothing compared to how I’ve been feeling now that I’ve tasted something else. Goddamn Remi for waking me up in my coffin just so she could stake me in the heart.
I’m bitter and resentful, but I’ll forgive her everything if she’ll just give me one hopeful look. Fuck, I’ll forgive her just for being here…
But when I open the door, instead of Remi, I’m met with a tall, blond, disgruntled-looking man.
“Hey,” he says, with a glance at my bare chest, “sorry to bother you, but I can’t seem to find a thing on these goddamned back roads. Do you know where I can find Remi Hayes?”
“Maybe.” I take in every detail of this dude, from his too-tight joggers to his shiny new truck. “Depends on who’s asking.”
“Gideon Price,” he says, puffing up his chest like he’s trying to match mine. “Her fiancé.”
“Huh. Kinda funny you don’t know where your fiancée lives.”
Gideon flushes.
