Chapter 30
Thirty
“Okay, folks, pens down. Make sure your team’s name is at the top of every page and deliver them to me so I can tally them up during break.” He glances down at his watch. “See you back in fifteen minutes.” The mic squeals as he switches it off, and country music fills the room a second later.
Riot gathers up all our answers and holds them up. “I’ll take them to the front. Does anyone want anything from the bar?”
“I’m going to check and see if Beck wants anything, then I’ll meet you up there,” I say.
“Sounds good. Anyone else?” Riot asks as he backs away.
“I’m good.” Logan shakes his head firmly.
“You’re still not drinking here?” Riot smirks knowingly.
“No way. I’m not taking any chances.” Logan grimaces.
Shortly after returning to Emerley, he drank too much and went viral on social media dancing to the song “Achy Breaky Heart.” He hasn’t quite lived it down and doesn’t want to risk a repeat performance. Can’t say I blame him.
Dillon stands and pushes his chair into the table. “I’m going to head out. I’m surprised I haven’t had a dozen messages from Harold,” he mutters, checking his phone before shoving it back into his pocket.
“Are you worried about him?” I ask. He may get frustrated with his father, but he’s a good son.
“Nah, the old man is too miserable to die. He’s probably fallen asleep in his chair while he was watching TV.
He will be as mean as a bear if I’m not at home when he wakes up.
” Furrowing his brow, he adjusts the ball cap on his head.
“This has been…fun. I guess.” He doesn’t wait for a response before he turns and walks towards the exit.
“I’m going to go wait for Hannah and make sure she doesn’t need any help with Meg.” Logan points towards the hall they disappeared down. I have no idea where Carson is.
Moving chairs out of the way, I approach Beck. Her back is to me, and she doesn’t even notice me approaching.
“Everything okay?” I ask, placing my hands on her upper arms, and peer over her shoulder.
She gasps, spins around, and drops her phone on the floor with a clatter.
Bending, I scoop it up so I can give it back to her. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” I say, glancing down at my hand. It’s open to a text thread with My Biggest Mistake – Braden.
“What’s going on?”
She quickly takes the phone from my hand and shoves it in the back pocket of her black skinny jeans. Stepping closer, she slips her hands around my neck, and her fingers thread through my hair at the nape. I slide my hands up over her hips and peer down into her worried sapphire eyes.
“What happened?” I ask again, squeezing her a little tighter. She had been having so much fun just a short time ago.
Clearing her throat, she says, “Braden’s here somewhere.”
Looking up over her head, I scan the room. There are so many people scattered around the bar I’m not sure I could find him if I tried. Quickly glancing down at her, I ask, “How do you know? Did you see him?” I ask, pulling her closer.
“He texted me. He knew what I was wearing, so he’s here somewhere.”
“What did he say?”
Her palms fall to my chest, and her eyes drop to the floor.
“Don’t do that.” Using my knuckles, I raise her chin. “Please talk to me.”
“It’s the same old shit,” she says with a quick grin before raising herself on her tiptoes and placing a gentle kiss on my lips. “Let’s not let him wreck our night, okay?”
When I say nothing, she kisses me again and whispers, “Please,” against my lips before dropping her heels back to the floor.
“Okay,” I concede, brushing my lips across her forehead. “We will talk about it later.”
“After I kick your ass at trivia?” Her eyes dance as she steps away.
“Then we may never talk,” I deadpan, reaching for her again.
“You think you’re funny,” she says as I pull her back to my side.
“I know I’m funny.”
Glancing up, I see Dillon return, search the crowd, then walk our way.
“Hey. I thought you were leaving,” I say when he comes to stand with us.
He looks between us with his jaw set and crosses his arms. “Yeah, I am,” he says hoarsely, then clears his throat. “When I was in the parking lot, I noticed you had a flat tire.”
“That’s weird. I thought the tire sensors were supposed to pick up if the tire has a leak.”
“Dunno.” He takes off his ball cap, pushes back his hair, and places it back on his head. “But since I’m still here, I thought I could give you a hand. Uhhh, you don’t want to let it sit on the rim too long, ya know?”
“Will Harold be okay?”
“Yep.” He rolls his lips and looks to the door.
“Okay, sure.” I check the time on my watch and then say to Beck, “Do you mind if I go out with Dillon and check it out? I won’t be long.”
“You’re trying to get out of the game, aren’t you?” Turning to Dillon, she says, “Did he put you up to this? Is he so afraid of losing that he asked you to make up a story and rescue him?”
His eyes go round and he shakes his head quickly. “What? No, I was leaving and saw the flat.”
“I’m just kidding.” She laughs and pats his shoulder. Looking at me, she asks, “Do you want me to come out with you?”
“No,” Dillon hollers. “I mean, it’s getting cold. You should stay inside with your friends.”
“Okay…” She glances at me, then back to Dillon. “Are you alright?”
“Yep. All good. I’ll wait over there,” he says, walking towards the exit.
“Is he always this uptight?” she asks, puzzled as she watches him weave through the tables.
“Sometimes.” I grab my jacket from the back of my chair. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll be right here waiting.”
I give her a quick kiss on her forehead before reluctantly walking away. I don’t love that Braden is hanging around, but she will be fine with our friends. The sooner I go deal with my truck, the sooner I can get back to her.
I find Dillon and Carson waiting by the door. They both look grim, but I expect it’s for different reasons.
“Okay, what’s going on?” I ask them.
“Outside.” Dillon pushes open the door and leads us out into the dimly lit parking lot. He walks silently, in hurried steps, towards my truck. Carson and I follow close behind.
Stopping a few feet away, he says, “I noticed your passenger-side tire was flat first, but when I got closer, I saw it wasn’t just the front tire. It looks like someone slashed them all.”
“What the fuck?” Carson says, crouching down, running his fingers over the sidewall before rising to his feet.
“Seriously?” I walk around the vehicle. Sure enough, every tire is deflated like a balloon.
“This wasn’t an accident,” Carson says, stating the obvious.
“No shit.” Dillon snorts and then says to me, “I wasn’t sure if you would want me to say anything in front of Beck or if you just want to take care of it. This has Braden written all over it.”
“Fuck,” I growl. “He was here. He was texting her from inside earlier.”
“Shit.” Carson rubs his palm up his jaw and walks in a slow circle. “What’s the plan?”
“I’ll run home and grab the flatbed and tow it to the garage. I’ll have to check, but I may have the tires you need in stock. If I don’t, it will take a day or two to get them in.”
“Yeah, okay,” I agree, running my fingers over the face of my watch.
We all glance up when the bar door opens, country music slipping out before it closes again. Boots crunch across the gravel, unhurried as Riot makes his way towards us.
“What’s going on? Beck said you have a flat.” He looks down, narrowing his eyes before he looks back at me in surprise. “They’ve been slashed.”
“Apparently.” Suddenly I don’t care about my truck at all. I need to get back to Beck.
“She’s fine,” Riot reassures me as if he can read my mind. “The next round is about to begin. Since most of our team is out in the parking lot, Logan is sitting with them.”
Inhaling deeply through my nose, I say, “Okay.”
“Are you going to tell her?” Carson asks, glancing at the truck and back to me.
“I should, but I don’t want to. She’s having fun, and I don’t want that fucker to ruin her evening.” Running both hands through my hair, I begin to pace.
“She’ll be pissed if you don’t,” Carson says.
“Oh, I know.” I puff out a breath.
“You need to tell Mason,” Riot mutters, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“That can wait until morning. We don’t need to draw any attention to the situation right now,” Dillon says. “I’ll take a few pictures before I load it on the truck and then again once I get it in a bay.”
“I can drive you both home,” Riot says. “Logan and Hannah have their hands full. She’s going to convince Meg to come back to their cabin for the night for a sleepover.”
Kicking a stone with his boot, Carson mutters, “Yeah, she probably shouldn’t be left alone.” Turning to Dillon, he asks, “Do you need any help?”
He furrows his forehead and rubs a hand across his jaw. “No, I’m good. I’ll be right back with the truck.” He grumbles as he walks away.
“Text the group chat if you change your mind,” Carson calls after him.
“I won’t.”
“Okay, let’s go back inside. I’ll keep the details to a minimum until we get back to the yellow house. We can’t do anything tonight, and I don’t want to freak her out.”
The rumble of Dillon’s motor fills the air, and he pulls out of the lot and drives towards the garage. It’s a quick trip, so it won’t take him long to get back.
“What are you going to do about Braden?” Riot asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’d like to kick him in the teeth, but I don’t think Beck would approve.”
“Only because she wants to do it herself,” Carson mutters.
“You have to report it. Maybe there is video footage,” Riot says, glancing up at the camera on the side of the building.
“Nah.” Carson shakes his head quickly. “The cameras are only for show. They’ve never worked.” He would know. He’s been a bartender here on and off for as long as I’ve known him.
“Isn’t that convenient?” I say, rubbing my jaw.
“Even if Mason can’t do anything, at least there will be a record of it,” Riot says.
“I will, but I want to talk to Beck about it first and get her input. She won’t like it if I take over. Plus, I want to find out what he said when he texted her earlier.”
“Did Beck ever talk to Mason after the time Braden confronted you both at the bakery?”
“I don’t think so,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. Fuck, I should have insisted she go into the station, but she was barely talking to me the week after, then I was away. It’s no excuse; I should have stayed on top of it.
“I know Braden is a piece of shit and treats her like trash, but why slash your tires? Jealousy?” Carson asks.
“That, and he’s losing control of her, and that pisses him off.” I check my watch and say, “We have been out here too long. We should head back inside so they don’t come looking.”
The second round of trivia has ended by the time we get back inside. We meet Hannah and Logan with teary-eyed Meg just inside the entrance.
“We are going to head out,” Logan says. “Hannah and Meg are going to have a sleepover at our place.”
“That sounds fun,” I say as I watch Meg’s chin quiver as she lowers it to her chest.
“Yep. We are going to watch some trashy reality TV and eat snacks, right, Meg?”
Carson bends his knees lower so he can get Meg’s attention. “Hey, pretty lady, look at me.”
Sniffling, she peeks up at him through her eyelashes.
Leaning closer, he whispers something in her ear—something none of us can hear. She nods her head, and the side of her mouth lifts.
To Hannah, she says, “I’m ready.”
As we watch the three of them walk away, Beck asks Carson, “What did you say to her?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says dismissively.
“We are heading out too,” Claire says with Riot by her side. “Erin called. Ben had a nightmare and wants his mom.”
“Go ahead; I can take Ryan and Beck home,” Carson volunteers.
Beck furrows her eyebrows. “Dillon couldn’t change your tire?”
Running my fingertips over the crease between her eyes, I say, “No, he’s towing it to the garage. He didn’t have what he needed to fix it here.”
“What do you think?” Carson interrupts. “Do you think we should form an alliance and finish the game?”
I’m ready to get out of here. I’m on edge about Braden. And Beck and I really need to talk, but the choice is hers.
“It’s not the same without everyone here, so if Ryan gives up and acknowledges me as the true winner, we can leave now.” She tilts her head and watches me expectantly.
“So, it’s like that, is it?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“It’s definitely like that,” she says with a satisfied smirk.
“Try not to make it awkward, guys. I’m standing right here.” Carson shakes his head and shifts his feet.
Maintaining eye contact, I run my thumb over my bottom lip. “You win. Let’s go home.”