Chapter Three
Brooklyn
Grumpyface is driving us out of town into the middle of nowhere. Maybe this is the part where he murders me? I chew on the side of my cheek.
I’m so confused. He’s so grumpy and clearly hates me, but he’s also helping me. I don’t get it. I also don’t have any other options.
“Where are we going?” I ask softly.
“I told you I know a place where you can stay.”
“I don’t have much money,” I add. That is an understatement - especially considering how much the car is going to cost. I can’t use my credit cards or draw money from an ATM, because doing any of those things will bring my brothers to this town in about two hours with the cavalry leading the charge.
If I wanted their help, I would just pick up the phone, but I don’t.
I'm on a mission, and it doesn’t include them.
Kip pulls onto a gravel driveway, which is long and windy. So long and windy in fact, there’s no house or building in sight. I swallow hard and try to remember all the self-defense training my brothers made me do.
Kip shoots a sideways glance at me. “I’m not going to murder you. Ginger, you really do need to calm down.”
I bristle, and he smirks.
We go around one more bend, and a huge, stunning cabin comes into sight. I gasp.
“Where are we?” I say.
He doesn’t respond as he drives the truck closer and parks in front.
“Is this your place?” I ask, gape jawed. I look from the cabin to him and back again.
“Sort of,” he says as he hops out of the cab.
A big yellow blur flashes by, and then I see it jump up onto Kip.
“Calm down, Blue.” The dog licks him on the face. “What have I told you about jumping?”
So he tells the dog to calm down too. Perfect.
Blue is turning in circles now in front of Kip, and Kip is smiling.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile, and holy hell, it lights something on fire inside me.
His eyes flick over my direction, and I cross my arms over my chest because that look with that smile has made my lady parts all stand at attention including my nipples.
Traitors.
Blue sees me and bounds my direction. I’m thankful for the distraction.
“Don’t you even think about it, Blue,” Kip calls. Blue slows down but continues to walk toward me—tongue hanging out of his mouth and tail furiously wagging.
“Oh, I bet you’re a terrible watchdog.” I reach down and pet him on the head.
“Follow me,” Kip says without looking back. He leads me up the steps to a huge wraparound porch and pushes the front door open. It isn’t locked.
I hesitate.
“Is this where I’m staying?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“With you?”
“No. I live there.” He points to a little cabin behind the house.
“Oh, who lives here?”
“You at the moment,” he says as he walks inside.
“By myself? I really can’t afford this whole place. It’s huge, and I don’t...”
My voice trails off as soon as I follow him into the cabin.
It’s even more stunning inside. Large windows overlook the most gorgeous, sparkling blue lake.
The kitchen is enormous with high end appliances and marble countertops.
From where I’m standing, I can just make out the patio with hanging lights and long farm tables.
“No one lives here?”
“Just you.”
“Do you rent it out?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“Why don’t you live here?” I ask, furrowing my brow. I’m missing something here.
“You ask too many questions. Has anyone told you that before?”
“Has anyone told you that you need to work on your people skills?” I fire back.
“A million times.”
“I’m not surprised,” I say, flatly.
He drops my bags by the kitchen and heads to the cabinet. After he grabs something and pours a glass of water, he walks over to me and holds out his hands.
“What is this?”
“Ibuprofen and water,” he says. I just blink.
“For your wrist...and your head.”
There’s been a dull ache in my head and my neck since the crash, and my wrist is throbbing.
“Thanks,” I say, taking them.
He just watches me. The only sound I hear is the refrigerator humming.
“How much?” I ask when I’m finished taking the pills.
“How much what?” His head is cocked to the side.
“For the place. I need to know how much, so I know whether or not I can pay you.”
“Nothing,” he shrugs.
“Nothing?”
“Yeah, nothing, as in free.”
“I’m not going to stay here for free.”
He jabs his thumb between his eyebrows and rubs. “Well, I'm not taking your money so I don’t know who else would take it.”
“Kip.”
“Ginger.”
I’m about to launch into a whole tirade about how I’m paying him when his phone rings. He holds up his hand for me to stop talking, and then he answers it.
“Leery, my least favorite person in the world, how you planning to torture me today?” he says into the phone as he walks to the patio door.
Well, at least it’s good to know I’m not the only one he’s a grumpy bastard to.
I sit down at the island and strum my fingers while I wait. I’m not trying to eavesdrop, but I can hear about seventy-five percent of his conversation without even trying. With a little straining, I can hear everything.
“No, I don’t have it,” he says, pacing. He’s stiff - his entire body looks tense. I want to rub his shoulders and get him to calm down. I laugh to myself. Maybe I should go outside and suggest that he calm down? I wonder how well that would go.
“I can’t focus,” he says. “I’m trying, but...”
He lets out a heavy sigh while he listens.
“It may be over for me. I don’t think I can deliver anymore.”
Deliver? I wonder what he’s talking about.
“I know. I know. Other people are counting on me, but I’m coming up short. Leery, it’s been four fucking years. I don’t think I can turn this around.”
I’m leaning a bit closer. If I really strain, I might be able to hear what Leery is saying.
“I don’t want to see your fucking therapist,” he yells. I didn’t have to strain to hear that.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t need the money. Why are we doing this?”
God, I wish I could hear the other end of this call.
“Okay, fine, I’ll call the goddamn therapist, but I won’t like it,” he says, and then he stabs his finger into his phone to hang up. He runs his hands through his hair and then kicks one of the chairs, knocking it over.
“Goddamn it,” he yells.
He glances over at me like he’s just remembered I’m here. I avert my eyes, like that’s going to do something.
Of course, I witnessed all of that. I don’t know why I’m pretending I didn’t.
He looks up to the sky. I'm pretty sure he’s counting. After about ten seconds, he wipes his hands on his pants, picks up the chair, and walks inside.
“Everything okay?”
“Fucking fine. Thanks for asking.” His tone is harsh. His voice sharp.
He’s standing on the other side of the island, breathing heavily. I feel like I should slowly creep off the stool and back out of the kitchen and then maybe run back into town.
He places both hands on the counter and drops his head. It feels wrong that I’m watching him. It also feels too hot and too cold in this room all at once, and I don’t know how that’s possible. Just as I’m about to open my mouth to say something, we both hear a car coming down the driveway.
I see it come into view first and gasp. It’s a police cruiser.
Kip’s head jerks up. As soon as he sees the car, he shakes his head and mutters, “For fuck’s sake.”