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Chapter 1
“This is bad,” I muttered.
“It’s definitely not the greatest,” Tavy agreed. “Am I allowed to be completely honest?”
I looked at my best friend. Her green eyes were glassy, her shoulder-length dark hair was a mess, and she reeked of bourbon. We both did. “I’m not going to like what you have to say, am I?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t say it…”
“You should say it.” My hand settled onto the wooden slat of the jail cell bench. “I’m already at the lowest point of my life. I doubt I can go lower.”
Tavy worked her plump bottom lip between her teeth. Her fair cheeks flushed with color as she blurted out, “I’ve never liked Knox.”
“Never?”
“I’ve never trusted him. And he always gave me the creeps.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I demanded.
“You can’t tell your best friend you don’t like her fiancé. If I’d told you that, you know what would’ve happened? You would’ve chosen him over me and cut me out.”
“I’d never cut you out!” I denied. “Tavy, you’re my soul sister. My partner in crime.”
“No pun intended,” she mumbled.
I tucked my long blonde hair behind my ear and leaned my head against her shoulder. “It’s my fault we’re in jail.”
“Damn right it is,” she said lightly. “But getting arrested has always been on my bucket list. I just wish our crime was cooler. Like, if we’d gotten arrested for stealing a diamond and then gone on the run. That’s way better than getting caught peeing in an alley and then yelling at a cop. And I thought for sure he’d let us off when you gave him your sob story.”
“I think he would’ve let us go,” I said. “If I hadn’t also screamed in his face that all men are bastards.”
“You also puked on his shoes.”
“Yeah, that might’ve been the thing that pushed him over the edge.”
I was sobering up and I didn’t like that at all. Sober meant I could feel things. It was easier to be drunk. It was easier to be angry. Anger shoved out the hurt.
“Who can we call to come bail us out?” I asked. “You’re the only person I’d call if I were in this situation, but you’re sitting next to me. I can’t call a colleague. I’m pretty sure I’d get fired for this.”
“You could call your dad,” she suggested. “Or one of your brothers.”
“And tell them they have to get on a plane to bail us out of jail?” I grimaced. “No way. I can only imagine the lecture.”
“Your dad would definitely pull the young lady card.”
“Seriously.”
“My dad,” Tavy said. “I’m an idiot. Of course, I’ll call my dad. He won’t mind bailing us out.”
“He won’t?” I asked. “Really?”
“Nah, he’ll probably find this funny.” She grinned.
“Funny? My life is funny?”
“No, not funny,” she reassured me.
“Pathetic is more like it,” I stated with a slump of my shoulders. “Okay. Call your dad.”
