Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
“I meant in regards to Quinn,” I point out.
He stops, his smile gone as he sets the case down on a toolbox.
I go for it before he has a chance to panic. “You know girls like her as well as I do, Jared. Kind, trusting, generous—”
“Naïve?”
I smile softly. “Pure of heart,” I say, instead. I move in and keep going. “It’s normal—and necessary—to make mistakes and fall in love with the wrong people, so you can fall out of love and learn the lessons, but those two guys… They can fuck up her life. It’s all guys like that are good for at their age.”
There, I said it. I don’t hate Noah and Farrow, but Quinn is not cutting her teeth on them.
Jared heaves a sigh, looking everywhere but at me. “Fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I worry more about Quinn because she’s not resilient. But that’s not her fault. It’s mine. And Madoc’s and Jax’s and her father’s.” He looks at me. “We paved every step she walked.”
I know. And now she doesn’t have any street smarts, but what were they supposed to do? Not look out for her?
“I’ll be around for a while,” I announce. “If she needs a ride or you need someone taught a lesson.”
He chuckles but looks weary. Reaching out, he shakes my hand. “I think I’m gonna like you as a grown-up.”
Good, because his sister doesn’t.
Before I have a chance to take my keys and leave, someone rushes through the front door.
“Jared,” Jason, Quinn’s dad, bursts out. “Thank God.”
I move aside so he can get to his stepson, but Mr. Caruthers doesn’t come any farther than peeking his head inside the door.
He gripes at Jared, “I’m trying to take your mom to Bermuda for the week and my display is lit up like a Christmas tree. What did you do?”
“Not a fucking oil change,” Jared barks back. “I’m not Jiffy Lube. Did you take it into the dealer and have it done a month ago like I told you?”
Mr. Caruthers shuts his mouth, just standing there.
I stifle my smile.
“Jesus Christ,” Jared growls, storming toward the door. Jason moves out of the way, letting his wife’s son barrel outside, toward their Bentley Continental GT.
Quinn and Jared’s mom Katherine steps out of the driver’s side, offering her son a little wince of apology. She’s dressed for the beach in a thin, white dress with a straw hat.
Jared climbs in the driver’s seat, turns on the car, and suddenly his face contorts into a cross between a bear and a disgusted schoolteacher. “Oh, what the f—!”
But he clamps it shut in front of his mom.
Quinn’s dad and I stand back, silent and not moving like we share a father who’s on a rampage and we’re trying not to be noticed.
“Son of a bitch,” Jared bites out, walking around and lifting the hood. “Three-hundred-thousand-dollar piece of shit is what you’re about to have.” A thread of smoke curls into the air from the engine. “Goddammit! Someone just shoot me in the head…”
Jason clears his throat, and I’m trying very hard not to laugh. Jax once gave Jared a book on “responding instead of reacting” and “accepting things he can’t change.” I wouldn’t be surprised if it was still sitting on the corner of Jared’s worktable in his home garage with two inches of dust on it.
I pull out the keys to my rental parked three spaces away and hand them to Jason. “Take mine.”
He eyes me. “Are you sure?”
I nod. He can return the car to the rental place; otherwise, I would’ve had to call them to come pick it up.
“Thank you,” he says.
I give him instructions on turning in the car, grab my shit out of it, and climb in Jared’s Boss as Jason flies out of the parking lot in my rental with his wife.
“I’ll see you soon!” I call out to Jared, who’s still buried under the hood.
He doesn’t reply, and I’m fine with that. Best to get out of his way while I can.
I drive off, still relieved that Jared didn’t ask any questions. With luck, Madoc will find out through him and have time to process before we talk. There’s a lot to figure out. Do I want to cancel the sale of the house?
I don’t think so. I don’t know how long I’m home, and I don’t want to pull the rug out from under Quinn. I like the idea of staying someplace else while I’m here. A new view.
Then, there’s the issue of work. I’ll need something to do, but I’m not sure I want to commute to Chicago.
And Green Street…
Lots to tend to.
After showering and changing at my house, I leave through my door for the last time and plan to go to a hotel. I could stay with Madoc and Fallon, but I’d like privacy right now. And I don’t want them involved in what I have to deal with.