bad—not only was the candy on the trays toast, but most of the boxes I’d already packaged had gone spilling across the floor, too.
When Carrie arrived, it’d taken all my force of will to walk back through the main shop and open the door.
“I just want to keep it quiet,” I told her, pulling a stool up to the worktable.
“No fucking way.”
“Hear me out,” I insisted, holding up a hand. “Talia Jackson is insane and she hates me. What do you think will happen if we call the cops? They’ll take a report and maybe give me a temporary restraining order, which will be worth exactly jack shit when she decides to murder me in my sleep. Oh, and that’s assuming they aren’t on her brother’s payroll. You know how things work around here.”
Carrie bit her lip, and I could see she wanted to argue with me, but I was right and we both knew it. The Nighthawk Raiders owned this town. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be the test case for how far their influence reached.
“Then we’ll tell Darren,” she said finally, determined. “He’ll protect you.”
I shook my head. “Bad idea. He’ll go all Iron Man on her ass, and then her brother and those bikers will come after him and suddenly you’ll be a widow and your kids will be orphans and . . .”
My breath caught as I felt tears starting to well. No. No crying, I reminded myself.
“Calm down,” Carrie said quickly. “You raise a good point about Darren—we shouldn’t tell him, because he will lose his shit and I can’t afford to have him murdered until after the girls graduate college. But where does that leave us in terms of options?”
“I’m going to do what she says,” I told her flatly. “Not because what she did was okay. It wasn’t. And not because I’m scared of her, although I totally am. I’m doing it because she’s right, Carrie. What happened last night between me and Cooper was wrong and a huge mistake.”
“I know,” she said steadily. “But he started it, not you.”
“And I could’ve ended it if I wanted to,” I replied, meeting her eyes. “But I didn’t. In that moment I didn’t care about anyone but myself. I acted like Brandon, and I’m better than that.”
“You did not act like Brandon,” she said, her voice firm. “You can regret last night all you want, and I definitely think it was a mistake . . . But you have a long way to go before you’re on Brandon’s level. Stop beating yourself up and start focusing on how we’re going to fix things.”
“Maybe I should just move back to Seattle,” I said quietly.
“No.”
“Not back with Brandon,” I insisted. “But this town . . . You’ve always loved this place, Carrie, but I never saw myself in Hallies Falls. You know that. The only reason I’m here is my dad.”
“Okay, calm down,” she said. “You’re freaking out, which is fair. Talia is scary as hell. But you can’t just up and move to Seattle because one crazy bitch threw a tantrum.”
“A crazy bitch with a machete.”
“Yeah, that part is troubling,” she admitted, and I snorted. “Geez, it’s hard to wrap my head around. And talk about bad luck, having her walk in like that. I mean, you’ve been a fucking saint since—”
“We agreed to never speak of it again,” I reminded her, holding up a hand.
She nodded her head, then cocked a brow at me.
“Still can’t believe you banged Jamie Braeburn. I was so proud of you, babe! Nothing like getting laid to help you forget a man. And Brandon—”
“Stop,” I said, flushing. “We’re not rehashing this, and I think we should put the discussion of Cooper on hold, too.”
“I agree. But sometimes I wonder . . . Why are all the hot guys crazy?”
“Darren is hot.”
“I rest my case. Don’t suppose you still want your salad after all that?”
“Maybe I’ll just put it in the fridge for later. My stomach is still queasy from the adrenaline. I need to get things cleaned up here, and then I’ve got to start making more caramels. The deliveries will be late, obviously, but I should be able to get most of this replaced by Wednesday morning if I put in long enough hours. I’ll drive it to Seattle that night, then start my deliveries on Thursday. If everything goes well, I can come back and work through the weekend to put out next week’s product.”