A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,27
Quincy had been pulling away. Or, at the very least, keeping secrets. Not that she had any room to talk. Maybe he was tired of the small-town life. Maybe he wanted more and didn’t know how to tell her.
She grew serious. “You know you can tell me anything.” It would be her luck that the moment she ended up back in Del Sol, albeit kicking and screaming, her best friend on the planet would leave. Again, not that she could blame him. She’d done the same thing to him fifteen years ago.
She banged her forehead against the steering wheel. But only once. And not, like, hard. “I did something and you don’t know how to tell me, so you’re avoiding me and we will eventually grow apart, and you’ll want to see other people and”—she turned a surprised expression on him—”you have a new bestie, don’t you?”
“Did you sample the confiscated LSD while I was gone?”
“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
“Acid trips are a bitch.”
“You aren’t even going to talk about it?”
“Says the person who refused to talk about the abduction for fifteen years.”
Classic defense mechanism. “I didn’t talk about it because I didn’t remember anything.”
He nodded.
“Okay,” she said, making a decision. “I’m dropping this for now.”
“About time.”
“But I’m giving you two days to tell me what’s going on, or I’m finding a new best friend.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Watch me.”
“No, I mean you literally can’t do that. No one wants to be friends with you.”
She speared him with a look of indignant astonishment. It was one of her best looks. “I have tons of friends.”
“You have tons of acquaintances. Huge difference.”
“I can assure you, one of my acquaintances is about to inherit the mantle of Sunshine Vicram’s BFF, and you’re going to have no one except that floozy you’re seeing on the side.”
“Good luck with that.”
“I’ll need the tiara back.”
“I’m not giving the tiara back.” With his arms still crossed, he scooted down in his seat, laid back his head, and closed his eyes. “Or the sash. Wake me in two.”
She didn’t answer. She’d drop it for now, but he was holding something back, and the curiosity incinerating her chest was giving her heartburn.
6
Did you accidentally go shopping on an empty stomach
and are now the proud owner of aisle 4?
We can help!
—SIGN AT DEL SOL FITNESS & MORE
The muscular purr of a big engine block hummed through the frigid night. Soothed her when she just wanted to sleep. She was warm at last. Safe at last.
“Stay awake, Shine,” he said, his voice deep and rich and youthful. She knew who it belonged to but couldn’t quite place its owner.
Everything inside her hurt. Everything around her spun. And her stomach wanted nothing more than to empty its contents onto the floorboard.
She felt a firm hand wrap around to the back of her skull, lifting her slightly. Her lips parted as the hard plastic of a water bottle pressed against them. Cool water filled her burning mouth. She tried to swallow but it scorched her throat. She ended up choking and spitting it all back up. Her stomach contracted painfully, doubling her over. When she vomited, a metallic taste flooded her mouth. She felt bad but the guy’s hoodie was ruined anyway. It was covered in blood. She just didn’t know whose.
“You okay, boss?”
Sun jerked awake and tried to open her eyes, but a white so bright it blinded her convinced her to keep them shut. At least until she figured out where she was.
She felt a tug on a wayward strand of hair.
After a moment, she opened her eyes just enough to check the clock on her phone. 7:58.
In the morning?
She bolted upright and squinted through the pain. The landscape, while beautiful and similar to parts of New Mexico, was definitely not.
“We aren’t in Kansas anymore,” the man beside her said.
“I thought we were taking two-hour shifts?” She stifled a yawn, then winced at a jolt of pain in her neck.
“We are,” Quincy said. “I just took several in a row. You have some drool.” He pointed to the side of his mouth.
Sun wiped at her mouth and glowered at him. “Why didn’t you wake me? I need to call the prison to give them a heads-up.”
“Anita did that for us.”
Anita Escobar was their administrative assistant who moonlighted as dispatch and, honestly, the woman worked more than Sun did.
“She’s already in?”
“Daylight savings time.” He tapped his watch. “She got to the station an hour ago. Also, you snore.”