over that countryside and didn’t hear of Jack’s death until they came home. By that point, the cops had already closed the case as a cut and dry accident. Bill tried to file a report claiming someone must have tampered with the car so the police would reopen the case, but it was a no go. They didn’t see any merit in his claims and figured he was just trying to cover his own ass so the family wouldn’t sue him.”
I spend a few more minutes going over the details of what Garrett found and ask him to email me a copy of the statement Bill filed with the police, along with a copy of the work order form that day.
I hang up the phone just as a knock sounds at the door.
Gwen starts to get up to answer it, but I stop her with a hand on her arm.
“I’ll get it. Go check on Layla and make sure she was able to find the towels and anything else she needs. And not a word of what we just found out from Garrett, please. I want to make sure all of this adds up before I put one more thing on her shoulders for her to worry about,” I explain.
Gwen nods and heads off down the hall as I go to the door, looking out the peep hole before unlocking the deadbolts and throwing it open.
“Hey, Brady! What’s going on?” Finn says with a smile as he tries to walk by me and into the house.
I put my hand up on his chest, stopping him in his tracks, utterly confused by his jovial demeanor.
Finn sighs and we stand there staring at one another in silence for several long minutes. I don’t care if Layla did call him last night to explain things and have him bring some of her stuff over this morning. I still don’t trust him.
He finally shrugs his shoulders at me.
“Look, man, I’m sorry about being such a dick to you. Just look at it from my side of things. Layla and I have been friends for years. She’s been through a lot, and I just didn’t want her getting hurt again. I had no idea who you were or what your motives were, and I acted like an ass. I’m sorry.”
He extends his hand and I want to shake my head to clear it, wondering if I’m still asleep and this is a dream. Why the fuck is he suddenly playing nice with me?
“Come on, don’t leave me hanging,” Finn says with a laugh, his hand still out in front of him.
“Hey, Finn,” Layla says from behind me. I turn away from Finn, thankful for her interruption so I’m not tempted to grab onto his hand, yank him closer, and punch him in the face.
“Hi, Lay. Like what you’ve done with your hair,” he says with a smile as I finally step aside to let him in and close the door behind him. He hands her a small suitcase and the black leather Gibson guitar case that I’d noticed on the stage the other night at June’s.
Layla takes them both from him and props them up against the wall in the foyer, all of us awkwardly standing around staring at each other and not talking.
“So, Brady, would you mind if Layla and I had a couple minutes alone to talk? I won’t keep her from you long,” he asks politely after a few minutes and with another weird smile on his face that I can’t tell if it's forced or his real smile since I’ve never seen it on his face before.
I don’t reply because anything I say right now will just make me look like an asshole, so I nod at Layla, and the two of them disappear down the hallway towards the bedroom—the fucking bedroom where they can both sit on a bed and talk.
The idea of Layla on bed with anyone other than me makes me feel murderous. Fuck! I need to rein this shit in.
Layla said there was never anything between them, and I believe her and trust her. I just don’t trust that smarmy bastard who suddenly wants to be my friend or some shit. Trying to avoid running down the hall and making an ass of myself by listening to their conversation, I fill my thoughts with Layla and what happened in my bedroom after I woke her up and we put Emma to bed. She locked my bedroom door