I finished my coffee and still wasn’t full up.
And I knew I could eat a bathtub full of fruit and yogurt and not feel full.
This was because I was not the kind of girl who ever got to feel full. I knew that. I just had to learn to stop forgetting it.
I grabbed my bowl and went into the house to find my phone and call Ella.
I had things to do.
I had a life to fake starting.
* * * * *
Ty
Ty Walker hit the button on the garage door opener, the door slid open and he saw the Charger parked there. He’d taken an opener with him that day knowing Max would be bringing him the Viper. He’d put one in Lexie’s car and obviously she’d found it.
The Viper growled into the garage, the sound of the vehicle reverberating in the closed space. He shut her down, opened his door and folded out.
It wasn’t late. He’d planned to see to some business after work but he often still had a tail. They were sticking close. They hadn’t approached, made their intentions clear, they weren’t watching all the time but they were watching. It was too soon to try and shake them when they were. They’d know he was doing it. They’d be more alert.
He didn’t need that.
Still, when they weren’t, he’d made his connection, he’d handed over a f**kload of cash and he hoped like f**k Dewey would be hard at work. Not because of the cash, in normal circumstances Dewey would bolt with the cash, disappear for half a year doing whatever the f**k and whatever the f**k would undoubtedly include sitting a game or five dozen of them and he’d come back broke.
No, he hoped Dew would be hard at work because he knew Walker would find him if he bolted and when he did, Walker wouldn’t be happy. Dewey knew to avoid that.
But more, Dewey was a friend, had been since junior high and Walker hoped to God Dewey would fight the urge and do right by Walker.
So it was just after six. After work, he’d gone to the gym to work out.
And now he was home.
And so was Lexie.
He started to the door that led to the utility room and the interior stairs. By the door the garbage bins were standing side by side, the top of one having slid partially off. On his way to the door, automatically, he grabbed the handle to secure it but he caught a glance at something familiar inside the bin through the small opening left by the lid. It was familiar enough to capture his attention. He pulled the lid entirely off to see what it was and stopped dead.
Big bags filled with party trash on bottom. Lexie’s wedding bouquet on top.
It was looking tired, petals falling off, blooms drooping but she’d carefully carried that thing to the Charger when they left Vegas and made sure the stems were in water the minute she could when they were in Moab. When they got to Carnal, he’d lost track of it. She could have brought it in the house but he didn’t remember seeing it.
All that care, now it was in the trash. Not precious. Nothing but garbage.
He slowly lowered the lid to the bin and pressed until it clicked closed. Then he leaned into his hand on the bin and closed his eyes.
Then he opened his eyes and moved through the door to the utility room.
The minute he hit the open doorway to the stairs, he smelled it.
Garlic.
She was cooking.
He climbed the stairs, rounded the railing and saw her in the kitchen.
She didn’t know he was there. She had her iPod earphones in and was standing at the back counter doing something.
She was wearing a tight yellow tank and her army green short-shorts.