“It doesn’t matter! She’ll fake the evidence and hire someone to plant it. They’re old money. They can do whatever the hell they want!”
What she’s describing sounds more like a high-budget crime thriller. Not real life. “Olivia, Jesus. Calm down. Take a deep breath.”
She sucks in a shaky breath. Better than nothing.
“It’s San Francisco, for fuck’s sake. It can’t be that bad. I don’t care how rich you are—you can’t rip a child from its mother.”
“Oh my God, Gage. You are so naïve!”
“No, I’m not. You think he’s the first rich asshole to roll into Fair Oaks? Stop panicking. It’ll be fine.”
But she looks even further from fine. Olivia disengages from my arms, looking extremely depressed as she sinks onto the toilet seat.
If it’s Cranbury’s baby, she’ll go back to San Francisco and I’ll never see her again. If it’s mine? Jesus, what the hell will happen if it’s mine? Would I stay or would I have to uproot my whole life for a city I hate?
God, I need air.
“I’m going to step out for a bit.” I’m shocked at how calm I sound.
Olivia doesn’t even acknowledge me. Her head slumps into her hands.
I leave the bathroom and walk outside, squinting against the sunlight. Everything feels like an extremely vivid dream, as though my mind is floating somewhere above my body. I run my fingers over the jasmine bush, but I barely recognize the cloying scent. My feet decide to walk before I know where I want to go.
Holyshitholyshitholyshit.
I walk on the side of the road, my senses completely numb. The strip mall stretches in front of me. A roaring sound grows louder behind me, but it doesn’t occur to me to look. Then dust kicks up all over my jeans as a champagne colored car screams past me, and a huge jolt kicks my heart into action.
“Fuck!”
I jump as the Mercedes narrowly misses me. The back tires slide, and I watch him yank on the steering wheel, but it’s already spinning out of control. Pedestrians milling near the strip mall scream, sprinting out of its way as the car careens into one of the closed businesses. It smashes through the glass window and crushes the support beam of the store, sliding to a stop as display cases inside crash down, spilling their contents all over the floor.
I sprint toward the car still flooding the store with gas. The door flies open, striking the ground, and then a man in plaid shorts stumbles out. He screams at the people attempting to help him.
“Look what this stupid thing did to my car!”
Cranbury. That fucking menace.
“You! Mechanic! I’m in need of your services—where are you going? Don’t touch me!”
I shove him away from the car and slide in, cutting the ignition. Then I pop the hood and check its guts. No fire. Good.
The chocolate store is fucked, though. Mark’s car smashed through the display window, knocking over cases and cases of bars. Hundreds of malted balls and chocolate raisins scatter over the floor. There’s glass all over the place. Not to mention to car sticking halfway into the store.
“Sir, are you all right?”
“Don’t touch me!”
I whirl around to see Cranbury slapping away Trudy’s helping hand.
“But you’re cut! I have a first aid kit in my car.”
“I don’t need your shitty first aid kit. Nobody touches my face but my plastic surgeon.”
He’s going to need a team of doctors when I’m through with him.
Cranbury’s head snaps around when he hears the crunch of glass under my boots. My jaw clenches shut. This guy’s wasted. I can smell the stench of alcohol on him several feet away. He stares at me through bloodshot eyes, swaying on the ground. The rich-boy preppy outfit he’s wearing looks a few days old. The shirt is untucked and his normally perfectly groomed hair sticks out in all directions. His hand dives into his pocket and produces a brown leather wallet.
“You. Take care of this for me.”
And he pulls out a chunk of bills—easily four hundred—and tosses it on the floor.
I don’t move an inch toward the money. “I am not your fucking servant.”
“You’re the town mechanic,” he says belligerently. “Fix it. That’s your job.”
“Fuck you. I’m not fixing your car.”
He screams, spittle flying from his mouth. “Yes, you will!”
“You can get down on your knees and kiss my ass. I still won’t do it.”
There are footsteps running behind me. I don’t take my eyes off Cranbury as he lurches on his feet again. Jack jogs to my side.