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My anger shifted from Holly to Drew. “I heard you tell someone on the phone you didn’t have the money. Did he make you a loan? Is he bothering you?”
“I-I’d rather not say.” She fiddled with the cross necklace.
“If you needed something, you could’ve come to me.” Our relationship was as personal as it had ever been, which wasn’t much, but I would help her in any way she needed if I could. I hated she’d gotten tangled up with Drew somehow.
“Not this.” She snapped her mouth shut as if she’d said too much.
I wanted to kill Drew . . . again. “How much do you owe him?” I grabbed my purse off the floor and pulled out a wad of cash.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting rid of your Drew problem.” I unfolded the bills and straightened them.
“You can’t do that.”
I paused. “He’s the epitome of hell on earth. The sooner you’re done with him the better.”
The front door burst open, and Gabriel ran straight to his mother. Carlos strolled in behind him.
“Hi, Mama. Hey, Miss Jacobs.”
“Hi, Firecracker. Carlos.” I nodded at him.
“Hello, ladies.” His eyes landed straight on Holly.
She knelt and hugged her son while Carlos and I took in the scene.
“I scored two goals,” Gabriel said proudly.
Holly ran a hand over his head. “Is that so?”
“At soccer,” Carlos clarified.
“I thought Muriella was watching Gabriel,” she said stiffly.
“She said it was too cold out for her,” Gabriel explained, though Holly didn’t seem satisfied.
“Dinner is in twenty minutes.” Carlos’s gaze didn’t waver from Holly as he spoke. Apparently more had been going on in my absence than I realized.
“I don’t want to get on my sister-in-law’s bad side. She’ll kick me out, and I’ll starve.”
“If you’re gone, there won’t be anyone to pin things on. I’ll be gone too,” Carlos said matter-of-factly.
“You can come live with us,” Gabriel volunteered.
Holly looked like she wanted to rescind that offer stat. “Go hang your jacket up,” she said, and her son scampered toward the coat closet by the front door. She turned her attention to me. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know that.” I held out the stack of money.
She looked at it like it was poison. “Thank you, but I can’t take it.”
“You can,” I insisted, trying to shove it in her hand.
She put her arms behind her back and shook her head. “I’ll figure out a way.”
I admired her desire to solve her own problems, though I didn’t immediately put the money away.
“If anybody understands what he’s capable of, it’s me. You don’t have to face this on your own, even though I admire that you do. Whenever you change your mind, the offer always stands.”
