This Much is True - Tia Louise Page 0,77
determined—”
“Listen to me.” I pause, letting my eyes drink in her face, her bright blue eyes. The waves of pale blonde hair that fall around her temples. She looks just like her name. I can’t get over it. “I know my brother is determined. I don’t know what he’s going to find or how it’ll go—”
“We’re going to find that guy, and we’re going to get you out of here.”
“Maybe. I hope so.” God, can I say these words? “Just in case that doesn’t happen, I want you to keep going with your pancake dream. Go to Monterey, take that guy’s money, and start your restaurant. Don’t wait for me.”
“I have to wait for you. I’m not giving up on any part of my dream.”
Our hands are on the glass, and her eyes are so warm. This girl.
“I want to kiss you.”
She smiles, and her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. It matches her fuzzy pink sweater. My arms ache to hold her.
“When we come back.” She moves her forehead close to the glass. I do the same. “I’ll be waiting for my kiss.”
“I won’t make you wait.”
Her blue eyes meet mine, and that fist releases in my chest. It happens every time. Maybe my idiot little brother is right. This girl is my future.
Hope
“She said she didn’t do it.” Scout is in the passenger’s seat looking at his phone.
“Who?” My brow furrows.
We crashed last night at the beach shack after he arrived then went straight to the prison this morning to visit JR and get the location of Clyde Shaw. We’re in a good position to find him and get this done today. I’m just waiting to hear from the phone repair guy as a backup.
And praying.
“JR thinks Becky called the parole board and turned him in.”
My jaw drops. “That bitch!”
“Yeah, she’s a bitch all right, but when I called Dad, she swore to him she didn’t do it.”
I’m fuming driving the car. I want to fly all the way to Charleston and slap that woman right across her stuck up, bitch-assed face. “Do you believe her?”
“I don’t know. I mean, Becky’s a gold-digging whore, who it seems was always in love with our dad, which is weird and gross, but I mean, I guess he’s a good-looking man…?”
As much as I hate to admit it, their dad is a very good-looking man—for someone as old as my father. His sons look just like him.
“It just doesn’t make sense.” He continues. “Dad doesn’t want to have Jesse full time. Gran’s got him at her house. Why would Becky do it?”
Guilt weighs in my chest. “Do you think it was because of me?”
Scout glances over at me and squints. “You’re pretty damn cute, but eh.” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t feel right.”
It doesn’t matter, because we’re at the park. Steering Metallicar to a spot behind a bush, I parallel park, and we mask up and get out.
“How do you want to do this?” I look down at my fuzzy pink sweater and white leggings. “I didn’t really dress for beating a confession out of anyone.”
“Just leave it to me.” Scout strides across the four-lane highway like he owns the place.
I think he might be reenacting a part in a movie, but I take off after him. All I care about is getting JR out of prison and figuring out what comes next.
The coffee shop smells delicious as we walk through the door. It smells so good, I almost need to take a seat.
“I’m not sure I could live over a coffee shop,” I whisper. “I’d stay broke.”
Scout holds up a hand and looks around the space. It’s all pale wood and very open and empty. In the center is a stark, black granite station where it looks like they take orders and roast and prepare the coffee.
He turns to speak right in my ear. “You must not be able to access the apartments from here.”
“What are we going to do?” I look over his shoulder at the barista watching us. “We’ve been spotted.”
Stepping back, he grins, and I swear a twinkle flashes in his eye. “Hey, there… Betsy.” He reads her name tag. “I was looking for a guy… Clyde Shaw. I think he lives around here?”
Betsy blinks several times, and I think she might have forgotten how to talk. Scout does have the power to strike women dumb.
Stepping up beside him, I smile. “Betsy?”
She finally tears her eyes away from my handsome friend to look at me.