The Slow Burn (Moonlight and Motor Oil #2) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,97

you, of all people, understand.”

“Are you insane?” I asked. “No, I don’t understand.”

“But—”

“Go away,” I demanded.

“I—”

I pulled from Toby, spun on her and snapped, “Get gone or I’m calling the police. You’re trespassing. We’ve asked you repeatedly to leave. So you’re also harassing.” I had no idea if this second was true, I was winging it. And I kept doing that. “And you’ve admitted to stalking. If you don’t want your return to Matlock to include jailtime, get in your car and go.”

With that, I snatched up Toby’s hand and tugged him toward his front door.

He didn’t fight it, he came with me. His legs longer, he surpassed me and eventually was tugging me, so I started moving double time.

We walked down the long porch that ran the side of the garage (that really could use some Adirondack chairs or a cool bench) and he put his key to the lock in his door.

We were in and he flipped the lights so the cannisters over the kitchen illuminated.

He needed some lamps. He only had a standing one by his sofa.

Sadly, I was getting Christmas ideas way too late.

Though what I’d gotten him, he was gonna love.

After he hit the lights, I closed the door.

Locked it.

Turned to him.

Squeezing his hand, I whispered, “I hate to say this, baby, but I think you need to call and warn Johnny.”

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“I’m gonna keep a lookout on her,” I told him. “If she doesn’t go, I’m calling the cops. Are you cool with that?”

“I’m absolutely cool with that.”

There was that pissed-off growl I loved so much (well, I did when it wasn’t aimed at me).

He let my hand go and moved into his house.

I turned to look out the door, realizing belatedly I left my purse in the car and my phone was in my purse.

Shit.

Fortunately, in no time at all, I saw her taillights in Toby’s drive.

“Johnny, yeah, sorry, no. Everything’s all right but everything isn’t all right,” I heard Toby say.

I watched the taillights turn right and only then did I move into the room, pulling off my coat.

“She gone?” he asked me.

I nodded.

He went back to his phone. “Yeah, I know, sorry it’s late and thanks, glad Brooks is okay but . . .” Long pause. “Fuck . . .” he bit off and said no more.

I moved into the kitchen to start going through his cupboards.

Tobe drank beer.

He might partake of Izzy’s infused vodkas, but only because he liked my sister.

And on occasion, he, his brother and Dave enjoyed a fine Kentucky bourbon.

I had a feeling it was Bourbon Time.

“Shit, brother, okay, no way to soften this,” he said. “Addie and I got home and Sierra was waiting for us in my driveway.”

I located the bourbon and switched my mission to finding a glass.

“Yeah, I know.” Pause. “No, it wasn’t pleasant. Addie had to threaten her with calling the cops to get her to leave.” Pause. “Yeah, she did. Sierra’s gone.” Pause, then lower, “I know, Johnny.”

With glass and bourbon, I turned to the island and glued my eyes on him.

He was at the far end of it, head bowed, phone to his ear.

I opened the bottle and poured.

“She said she wanted to explain. She said she’s been watching us. She knows about Adeline, Eliza and Brooklyn. And she says she knows you’re at the mill.” Pause. “Yeah, like a threat. She could be comin’ to you, Johnny.”

I walked his way and his head came up.

I handed him the glass.

He stared in my eyes, his motor oil ones were liquid and tortured.

So I moved to him and pressed to his front, wrapping my arms around him.

He slid his arm with whiskey glass in hand around me, and his gaze unfocused as he went back to Johnny.

“I don’t know. She just said she wanted to explain. She knows Dad’s gone. I didn’t give her a lot of opportunity to talk.” Pause. “Yeah.” Another pause, and again lower, “Yeah, we’re gonna have to tell them. Tomorrow. Who knows what she’s up to or is willin’ to do. She might go to them, and Dave’s gotta know so he can protect Margot.”

Shit and damn.

I pressed closer.

His attention came back to me.

“Right,” he said into his phone. “I’m down with that. But call me, she shows at yours.” Pause. “Right.” Pause. “Right.” Pause, “Yeah, love you too, Johnny. Later.”

He disconnected, I heard his phone clatter on the granite countertop of his island then he transferred his bourbon from the hand at my back