Chapter 25
Sophia
The Law
Iwas startin’ to see why Lyra never bothered to return to Georgia.
Hell, if her husband was anything like Grant, I wouldn’t leave the bedroom.
After finally meeting June, Grant made loaded nachos, saying he figured I’d like it.
He figured right. We ate in bed while watching late night sitcom reruns.
I fell asleep holding a chip covered in melted cheese and sour cream, curled against his chest with his arm around my shoulders.
I woke up feelin’ more than just warm and full.
I woke up knowing I was safe. I woke up knowing I was wanted and appreciated and thought of like an equal, not a woman to be tossed to the side and ignored.
I woke up knowing I needed to tell Grant how much he meant to me.
How much of my heart had become his, and that I’d made up my mind.
His phone rang from the nightstand, stirring him awake.
“Too early,” he groaned, reaching for his phone.
The name Carver flashed on the screen before he answered.
“Mornin’,” he said into the phone, but looked down at me with a tilt to his lips.
I kissed his chest and nuzzled into him, shutting my eyes as I listened to the sound of his heart beating.
Whatever Carver had to say left a long time between when Grant could answer or make some sound as a reply.
A few minutes later, Grant let out a sigh.
“Peach?”
“Grant?”
“We gotta head to the Roland’s.”
I sat up, setting the chip I was still holding back on the plate before rubbing my eyes. “Is everythin’ okay?”
“You can spend time with Lyra while Carver and I check out somethin’.”
I frowned. “No.”
“No?”
“No.” I folded my arms across my chest. “You’re not doin’ that to me.”
“Doing what?”
“Keeping me in the dark because you’re a man.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s not—”
“Yes, it is. I grew up in that world, Grant. Men think they don’t need a woman’s opinion or help because yours is more than enough.”
“That’s not what’s happenin’.” He looked me over, sighing deeply. “Okay, maybe I was tryin’ to keep you safe, but I’d never brush you to the side. I value your opinion more than my own, really. I just don’t want you to panic or stress too much after…after what happened yesterday.”
My arms dropped to my sides, a twinge of guilt pulling at my lips. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Carver said he caught the Dodds on his security cameras last night.”
I didn’t know who the Dodds were, but I’d heard Grant talk about them before. They didn’t sound like the kind you wanted near anything you owned or loved.
“What happened? Are they okay?”
“Yeah.” His phone rang again, this time the name on the screen was Farrah. He looked down at it for a beat before picking up. His face went from alert to crazed before he hung up and went to his dresser, grabbing a fitted white shirt and pulling it on.
“Grant, what’s wrong?”
“Get dressed.”
“What?”
“The Dodds didn’t just stop at Carver’s.”
I swallowed thickly and jumped to my feet, pulling clothes from my suitcase and throwing my hair up into a messy bun as I followed him out the door and to the truck.
The glass windows along the front of Devil’s Den were shattered, littering the floors and equipment with fine shards.
I took Grant’s hand, squeezing it as we got closer, letting him know I was here like he’d done for me countless times now.
A horn honked behind us, and as we both turned, Lyra and Carver were getting out of their truck.
“Oh fuck,” I heard Carver murmur as he surveyed the destroyed tattoo shop and took his wife’s hand. Lyra’s eyes flicked to our joined hands, smiling before she looked up to her husband. “Where’s Farrah?”
“Around the back,” Grant replied. “She said there’s graffiti back there.”
“What ’bout inside?” Carver asked as he and Lyra stepped up beside us.
“We just got here and haven’t gone in yet,” I answered.
Carver’s brow arched momentarily before his eyes slipped down to our hands, then looked at his wife. When she smiled, he seemed to dismiss Grant and I touching, or being close, altogether.
Lyra went up on her tiptoes and kissed Carver’s cheek, then took my other hand. “Sophia and I will go around the back and see. You two can go ahead inside without us.” Both men had a downward tilt to their lips, like neither approved of us being out of their sight. “We’ll be fine,” Lyra pressed.
Grant walked up to me, took my chin between his fingers, and kissed me like our friends were nowhere in the vicinity. My stomach was still fluttering as he pulled the gun from his waistband and fit it into the back of mine, keeping me close to him. “Shoot anyone who gets close to you, hear?”
My cheeks warmed as I nodded up at him. “I will.”
“C’mon, Soph.” Lyra tugged me by the back of my blouse. I turned as she fit her arm into mine and pulled me close to her side, whispering, “What the fuck have you been up to?”
“A lot,” I answered, still fighting the burn of my cheeks as we rounded the building. “But now ain’t really the time.”
“You’re holdin’ out on me.”
“Oh, like you did to me?”
“Doesn’t count.” Lyra bumped her hip into mine playfully, then rolled her eyes. “Fine, tell me later. Y’all are probably comin’ over after this shit is dealt with.”
Farrah came into view, leaning against a dumpster with both arms outstretched, pointing toward the wall.
A man I’d met briefly before when Lyra had her own troubles to handle in this town stood beside her, listening intently.
“Those Dodds are going to pay, Henry! I don’t give a flyin’ fuck what bullshit excuse they come up with this time. They’re payin’ for it all.”
“Now, now, Ms. Calhoun. We can’t be sure it was them.” Henry—well into his 60’s with a bald head and dressed in his dark sheriff’s uniform—scribbled on his notepad, keeping his eyes on the paper. “Can you tell me again when you got here?”
Farrah’s face turned red. “You better not be accusing me of doing this to the only place I fucking care about.” He tapped his pencil to the paper, then adjusted his protruding gut with a quick fix of his belt.
Farrah dragged her palms down her face. “Fine. I got here about ten minutes before you did. I had to restock and clean up a few things before opening for the day. Happy?”
Wrinkles creased the edges of his eyes. “Delighted, Ms. Calhoun.”
“Bet you are,” she said smugly, then straightened when she noticed Lyra and I getting closer.
“Check out the new art,” she said, jerking her chin toward the wall.
Sprayed on the wall was a slew of derogatory words, and devils with X’s over their eyes in red and black paint, all making white-hot anger burn on my skin.
“Lovely, ain’t it?” Farrah scoffed. “And Henry says we can’t assume it’s the Dodds. ”
“Those Dodds are nothin’ but trouble,” Lyra agreed. “What’s the older one’s name? Bo?” Noticeably, she hadn’t said a word about what had happened at their house—what her husband found on their cameras—and I assumed that was intentional.
Farrah shook her head. “Tate is the oldest. Then there is Derrick, then Bo, and lastly their sister, Della, AKA the baby of the family. The woman is in her 20’s and still treated like she needs her hand held and of course she just lets ’em.”
“Derrick?” I asked, looking over the wall. “He’s Grant’s sister’s ex-boyfriend, right?”
Henry bobbed his head, scribbling harder as Farrah answered, “Yep. But he’s the most decent one out of the bunch.
Really, Bo and Tate go around fucking shit up just like this and then their sister comes in with some BS alibi—they were fixing my tires, they were helping me fix the ac unit, they were putting away groceries from the store. All bullshit.”
“Ms. Calhoun,” Henry urged, but Farrah didn’t seem to care.
“You know it, Henry. The whole town knows it.”
I glanced up at the corner of the building as Lyra did. “Any footage from those?” she asked, pointing to the cameras anchored on the corners of the exterior walls.
Farrah shrugged. “Only one with access is Grant. He’s probably in there checking that right now. Guess the padlocks he kept on the door warded them away, but the glass was perfectly fine to smash through.”
Henry stopped and looked pensively at me, tapping the pencil to his lip. “I remember you from somewhere, don’t I?”
Lyra piped in, saying, “My friend,” right as Farrah said, “Grant’s girlfriend, Sophia.”
“Uh-huh. Got it.” He scribbled more as Lyra nudged me.
“Girlfriend?” she muttered, cupping her mouth with her hand.
“Later,” I whispered back through gritted teeth.
Henry scratched at his ear with the tip of his pencil. “And, uh, what time did you ladies get here?”
Lyra’s eyes danced from me to Farrah incredulously. “Just now.”
“Uh-huh,” Henry replied, presumably writing that down, as well. “I take it your men are inside?”
“They are,” Lyra replied, folding her hands over her chest. “You wanna talk to them, you best head inside.”
Farrah smirked at Lyra. “Doors wide open, Sheriff. Glass windows are, too.”
“Thanks, ladies.” He pocketed his notepad and pencil, adjusted his slacks, and tipped his hat.
“I’ll go talk with them real quick, then get out of your hair.
We’ll find out who did this and put a word out for the community to come together and keep a watch out for any more activity.
After what happened across the street at the café, we might need to start a neighborhood watch unit. ”
“Tell 'em to keep an eye on the Dodds' property,” Farrah replied.
I waited for Henry to walk away before asking, “What else have the Dodds done?”
“Grant hasn’t told you?” Farrah asked.
“Not really.”
She started flicking out her fingers with each thing they’d done.
“They pick on Tallie, trying to fuck with her things before each race. Derrick used to use his relationship with her to get discounted work done before she left him. They wrecked Grant’s old truck after a race one time when they fishtailed their truck into his and didn’t pay, just ran off.
They’ve vandalised the shop before, which is why we added cameras to the back and front.
Oh, and Bo broke into Grant’s house when Tallie still lived there.
Guess he was the only sibling who didn’t know she was capable of defending herself.
” She folded her fingers into the shape of a gun, mimicking shooting it toward my feet.
“She’s pretty fun at parties, if you ask me. ”
“Don’t forget how they almost burned the bar down to the ground by pouring alcohol on the front porch, trying to create a line of fire they could jump over as some drinking game,” Lyra added.
“Fuck. And they haven’t been arrested yet?”
“Oh, they have,” Farrah said. “But Derrick usually bails them out. That or their sister comes in and cries to the Sheriff until he lets ’em off with another slap on the hand.”
“That’s not how the law works,” I mumbled.
“That’s how it works in Alliston,” Lyra said. “Always has been.”
“Henry does his best, but he also sees the best in people. The Dodds won’t get pegged for this unless Grant or Carver have evidence they had somethin’ to do with this. That’s why Carver has cameras all around his property, right Lyra?”
Lyra blushed faintly, but nodded. “Yeah. He’s, uh…he’s real protective.”
“So is Grant,” I said, making both women look at me.
“I mean, men where I come from don’t really need to protect women.
They hire security for that, then get to forget they even have wives, which might be more the point.
” I fiddled with my thumbs. “But Grant hasn’t taken his eyes off me since your party. ”
“He seems to really like you,” Farrah said. “He hasn’t brought anyone to the shop like that before. I forgot to ask—how are you since the café a few days ago?”
“Fine,” I replied. “Grant took care of me then, too.”
“I’m sure he did.” Farrah looked like she wanted to ask more, but I was glad she didn’t.
It was too long of a story, and I hadn’t even talked to Lyra about it all yet.
Lyra’s brows were pinched as she looked me over, seeming to notice the scratches on my face and small bruises from the accident.
“We should head inside and see if they pulled anything from the cameras.”