Chapter 8 #2
Jett’s eyes shift to Dean. “The Grease Me Up. I can’t exactly crawl under a car to work on it myself right now. If there’s another garage in town, I blinked and missed it.”
“Oh, Clive!” Felicity exclaims. “Yep, he’s the only official mechanic in town. I’m lucky that Harold is good with his hands.”
I think we all wince at the news about Harold, but it’s Dean who lets out a low whistle. “Clive is fine. Whatever it is, he’ll get the job done. What Clive is not, is fast.”
“Clive helped me on my truck. He gave me lube for free when I was working on my wheel bearings,” Blake adds.
I turn to Jett. “Take me there right now so I can get my car back.”
Jett’s full lips purse. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen anytime soon. When I left, your car was in pieces littered all over the garage.”
“But you can’t do this. I need my car. I can’t afford to have it worked on anyway.” Panic bubbles within me. I’ve gone from a low simmer to a flat-out boil. I turn to Dean. “Do something. Make him give it back.”
Jett waves Dean off. “It’s not a big deal. I’m taking care of it.”
“But I can’t afford—”
“No, Lennon. You don’t get it. When I say I’m taking care of it, I mean all of it. Your car was not safe to drive in the summer, let alone when the snow and ice hit soon.”
“This is true,” Felicity agrees, but she’s gentler about it. “Harold mentioned it was time for your tires to take a trip to the mortuary.”
I drop my bag to the ground at my feet and rub my face. It’s all I can do to keep my tears at bay. I’ve drawn enough attention to myself as it is.
“I’d give you a ride back to the library tonight, but I work until close,” Blake says.
Felicity pats my shoulder. “I can always give you a ride, dear.”
“I’ll take her home,” Jett says. I turn to him and find an expression sitting on his face that screams he just uttered the final word. “I did this. I’ll make sure you get where you need to go. I’ve got nothing but time.”
Well.
Good for him.
I’m glad he has time, because I have none of it.
Not a day, an hour, or even a minute.
They know where I am.
And I have no idea how I’m going to get out of Winslet or where I’ll go.
I need a new cell and a new city.
Hell, I need a new life, because no matter what I do, this one is hell. I might’ve escaped it for a short time, but they found me. And if they did it once, they’ll do it again.
I jerk when Dean slaps his hands together.
“Crisis averted. Another day serving the good people of Winslet. This job might be slow most days, but it’s never boring.
” Dean slaps Jett on the shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of her car. The winter here might be good for tourism, but Mother Nature is no joke. If everyone’s good, I’ve got to get back to the office and prepare for career day at the high school tomorrow. Everyone good?”
“Hey, let them know if they need anyone in hospitality. I’m sort of killing it at this ma?tre d’ gig,” Blake calls out.
Dean walks backward to his car and points at Blake. “I’ll pass that on. It’s been good to catch up. Enjoy your day, everyone, and keep your hands off other people’s stuff.”
Blake gives us a friendly wave. “I’ve got to fold napkins and polish silverware. It’s been fun.”
Fun.
This has been the least fun day I’ve had since the day that changed everything.
The day that shall not be spoken of. The very day I’d like to erase from my brain had it not been the one that set me free.
Felicity reaches out and gives my forearm a squeeze before she turns to Jett.
“What a nice thing to do for Lennon. You’re definitely coming over for dinner on Sunday.
This Sunday we’re on rotation for a roast. I hope that’s okay.
My roast is known around these parts as being a good one.
Doesn’t matter if someone dies or has a baby, I always bring a roast.”
I wonder who will get a roast if I die?
I have no one left here to eat it for me.
“Sounds good,” Jett says. “I’ll be there.”
“I’m going in. My feet are about to freeze in these shoes.” Felicity shuffles as fast as she can in her square heels back toward the front doors of the manor. “See you Sunday, Jett Parker Cross!”
And just like that, I’m standing here in the cold with my car thief.
“Lennon,” he calls for me in a deep tone that forces me to look up into his dark eyes.
My arms flop to my sides exasperated since this is it. My life is about to end. “What?”
He tips his head and studies me. “I’ll get you to and from work until your car is done. But I’m not going to apologize for having it worked on. That thing was a dumpster fire waiting to happen.”
If he only knew, the only dumpster fire around here is my life.
And because it’s engrained in me to remember my manners no matter how scared I am, I say, “Thank you. This threw me for a loop. But I appreciate it.”
He pulls out his cell. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you mine. I need to return Winnie’s truck, visit the animals, and catch a ride back here. Then you can consider me your fulltime chauffeur until Clive fixes you up.”
I rattle off my number so fast, I’m surprised he catches it. But I don’t turn my phone on. I need to get back to my office and figure out how I’m going to get out of town without a car.
Maybe I’ll research how to hotwire a car. I doubt I’ll be able to find one with the keys in it.
“See you after work,” Jett calls, and I realize I started walking back to the building lost in my own dystopia.
“Oh, yeah.” I give him an exhausted wave. “See you later.”
He frowns.
I have no energy to worry about what that man thinks of me.
What started out as the best day ever has turned into the darkest ever.
Well, other than the other one.