Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
What?
I blink, set her on her feet. “I’d never say that about you.”
She turns and practically runs across the lot. I make chase again. A car lock beeps and she flings open the passenger door of a black sedan, probably a rental.
“Leave me alone, Chance.”
“No.” My heart is beating as if I ran here from the ranch. “No fucking way.”
“We have nothing to say to each other.”
“Right. That’s how you like it.”
She reaches in, grabs a folder full of papers, and then stands inside the open door, eyeing me as if I were shit on her shoe.
“What do you want from me?” she demands. “I’m here to work the case and then I’ll be gone.”
“Just like the day after I made you mine.”
She moves to close the door, but I’m blocking her escape since we’re between two parked cars. She turns again and heads the other direction, through the next row.
“You don’t have to say anything now. I got it all loud and clear in your letter. Fuck off, Chance!”
Two patrons leaving the restaurant eye me with contempt as Avery runs back inside, leaving me standing there. Stunned.
Confused.
“What letter?” I ask out loud.
But she’s not there to answer.
7
AVERY
* * *
Instead of going back to my table, I head straight for the ladies’ room. I set the folder down and then grasp the porcelain edge of the sink and stare into the mirror. The whites of my eyes look hazy—hazy with the tears that are about to fall.
I sniff them back as best I can, grab a paper towel from the dispenser, and unceremoniously blow my nose into it. It’s rough against my skin, but I don’t care. Life is rough. Fucking rough.
A toilet flushes, and a pretty young woman with striking green eyes appears at the sink next to mine. She pumps some hand soap into her palms, turns on the faucet, and then glances over at me.
Her eyes widen. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Thank you.” I loosen my grip from the sink and take a longer look at her. She looks vaguely familiar to me.
“You sure?” she pushes. “You look a little…dazed… And sad.”
Nothing gets by this woman. Her eyes are kind, though, and right now I can sure use some kindness. My partner’s a nice guy, but it’s not like I can dump my history on him. Especially when it’s linked with the case. “My past recently collided with my present.” I sniffle a bit. “I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”
The woman grabs a couple paper towels from the dispenser, dries her hands, and tosses them into the waste receptacle between the sinks. “All right. It was nice to meet you anyway. My name’s Carly.” She holds out her hand. Then her eyes go wide in recognition. “Oh my God. Avery Marsh?”
I nod, then frown. “The one and only. Have we met?”
“I was two years behind you in high school,” she explains. “You were supposed to be the prom queen, but then you and your mom disappeared.”
Then I realize why she looks familiar. Sure, Bayfield’s a small town, and I probably knew Carly back in high school, but I’ve largely erased those years from my mind. No. I recognize her because she was one of the women rescued from that billionaire’s island that got shut down over a year ago. It was all over the news, and even though the women’s names weren’t made public, the FBI had access. I remember seeing that she was from Bayfield. I never let myself think about Bayfield, so I said a quick prayer for her wellbeing and never gave her another thought.
Until I got this case. Her name came up in the notes. She’s involved with one of Chance’s brothers—Austin. God, small-town life at its finest.
“Carly Vance,” I say. “Your father’s the mayor.”
“Yeah, he is.” She clears her throat. “I… Chance told us you were in town. When he ran out, I didn’t get a good look at you. I had no idea the two of you were—”
“We weren’t,” I say succinctly.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I guess Chance is back at our table now.”
I blink at her and roll my shoulders back. “I really don’t know—or care—where Chance Bridger is.”
My sharp tone makes her flinch.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
I silence her with a hand gesture. “You don’t need to apologize and I… It’s rough being back. Austin Bridger may be a wonderful man. I have no idea. Chance Bridger, on the other hand?” I shake my head, again grabbing the edge of the sink. “Not so wonderful.”
She doesn’t reply.
She simply stares at me, her green eyes wide. Her lips twitch as if she wants to say something, but nothing comes.
“Nice to see you, Carly. Now if you’ll excuse me.” I grab the folder, whisk out of the bathroom, and head back to Jarvis.