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“No thanks. I have a boyfriend.” She seethed, having no desire to save his feelings, and was extremely done with this conversation, she just needed her damn keys back.
Clayton’s smile twitched, “Don’t tell me, Turner?” He guessed with an inflection that was at odds with the smile he still sported.
Maybelle was caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone, but she was ready to scratch out his eyes if needed. She nodded.
Clayton turned, sucking on his teeth, “Of course. You always were a little dumb, Mason.”
What? Who the—?
“Ok, I’m done.” She snapped, “I don’t know you, and I don’t care to know you. Give me my keys or I’m calling the cops.” She threatened, her tone full of rage, fueled by the fear twisting her gut. Clayton shook his head with slight amusement and a lot of frustration.
“You of all people would be in a relationship with the guy who is responsible for the death of your family.” He quipped and Maybelle fumbled for words.
“Ex—excuse me?” She stuttered, “What the hell is your problem?” Now her voice mirrored his hostile attitude.
“Truth hurts huh? If Trey hadn’t attacked me that night, then threatened if I didn’t go home, he’d like, kill me or whatever, my buddy wouldn’t be in prison, your family would still be alive, and I would be at college on scholarship right now.”
Maybelle eyed him, allowing every bit of her impatience and loathing to drown him under her gaze. What was he even saying? That Trey was somehow to blame for the death of her family? Yeah, no, she couldn’t remember what had happened the night of the accident, but the words of some random asshat weren’t enough to have her questioning the best person she knew.
“You know what, forget the keys.” Maybelle snipped, Chelsea would understand if she let her car get stolen, right?
She made to stomp past the blabbering asswipe, but his hand latched out onto her arm. To Maybelle’s dismay she yelped but instantly recovered as she reared back and swung. Her open palm whipped Clayton across the face just right, making a loud clapping sound and sending his head snapping away.
He dropped her arm and fell back a few steps looking more stunned than hurt but that quickly faded as he glared, “You bitch—” he started and like a damned fairy god mother appearing from thin air, a petite woman stepped up, blocking Clayton’s path to Maybelle.
Her back was facing Maybelle so she didn’t get a good look at the newcomer, but she could distinctly hear her clear her throat.
“Clayton.” Her voice was darling but stern and Clayton looked worried at the sight of the short, framed woman standing before him.
“Hannah?” He choked standing straighter.
The girl, Hannah’s, hip popped out, her head bobbing in an obvious inspection of Clayton, “Good to see you’re still wearing the same clothes I saw you in the last time we ran into one another.”
Maybelle could practically hear Hannah’s condemning gaze track up and down Clayton’s long, grubby body, “Same stains and everything.” She added and Maybelle didn’t even try to hide her amusement.
Clayton’s jaw clenched, his cheeks burning pink, then he was opening his mouth to speak but Hannah took a full step toward him, “Go home Clayton. Or do I have to tell your mom all about your inappropriate behavior next time I come over for book club? Wouldn’t want mommy to have another reason to finally kick your sorry ass out of her basement now, would we?”
This girl was quickly becoming Maybelle’s hero with every snarked remark to the pathetic man. This was no horror film, this was a romcom and Maybelle was the damsel in distress while the short, tough girl before her was her knight in shining armor, soon to be love interest and soul mate.
Forget Trey, he would understand.
Hannah held her hand out expectantly and Clayton dropped the keys into her awaiting palm. Maybelle was damn near ready to kneel before this woman saying, “You have saved my life, I am eternally grateful. Teach me your ways, Master Jedi.” Plus, a lot more pop culture references that relayed her gratitude and awe.
Clayton shot one more sneering glare at Maybelle and feeling a little more bolstered with her new companion, Maybelle stuck her tongue out at him. Clayton furrowed his brows but didn’t say another word, he turned and left.
“Marry me.” Maybelle proposed and the girl giggled as she spun to face her.
Hannah had a sweet face, big round glasses propped on the bridge of her upturned nose and a contagious smile framed by thin lips, “Hey, May.” She greeted and Maybelle bit into the inside of her cheek with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember you, I was in a coma, and I have amnesia—” She started to explain but Hannah waved her off.
“Don’t worry, I know. The ladies in my book club love to gossip and you were a big topic last summer. I’m Hannah Lacy.” She said with a spunky wink.
Maybelle smiled, “It’s good to meet you, Hannah. Did we know each other well?” She asked and Hannah’s cheeks went bright tomato red as she pushed the frame of her glasses up her nose.
“We watched out for each other. I don’t know, I was very different in high school, my social skills have definitely improved since graduating.” Hannah said smoothing down her soft brown curls that flowed over the tops of her shoulders, “But even if you did remember me, you would probably be surprised to hear me say that you were my best friend in school, well my only friend, actually, but you get the picture.”
Maybelle nodded, understanding, “Well thank you for still looking out for me, I am happy to know that I have such a bad ass friend to save me from scary men.”
