Page 13 of The Sidekick

“You have no idea what that woman has been up to. She’s lucky she isn’t behind bars this second.”

“That woman?” Max snarls. His hands fist again, and I step in to keep things from escalating.

“Tera is the type of person that would do anything to protect someone she cares about. I’m guessing she helped Andi when she was being threatened?” I’m thinking as I say it. The timeline seems right for when she stopped being as animated at work. That’s also when she stopped confessing everything she thought I might get angry about like I’m her priest.

“You jackasses are crazy,” one of the twins smirks as they gather to defend their friend. “She’s a thief, and she still works for you?”

I give him a skeptical look.

“Didn’t know about that?” His smug smirk would irritate me if I wasn’t ready to laugh at him.

“I know about it. Do you know what she stole?” I try to keep the humor out of my voice when I ask. It’s almost too ridiculous to be real.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says dismissively. “How can you trust her in your bar?”

“Easily,” I shrug with a laugh.

“Have you all been like this the whole time you’ve known her?” Max asks quietly. His chin is lowered. That is not good. He’s ready to kill these assholes.

“Max, in the truck,” I snap him out of it and slap the hood for his attention.

“Fuck, Trev,” he looks at me with horror. “She’s been around these fuckers for a long time.”

“Get in,” I motion to the passenger door and approach the driver’s side.

He slams his door hard enough to rock the truck. I don’t say anything to him about it as I stew in dark thoughts.

“They’ve been ripping her apart,” Max makes a choked sound and rubs a hand down his face. “Why wouldn’t she tell us?”

“Why would she?” I shake my head, filled with guilt. “She stopped talking because she knew she was doing illegal shit and didn’t want to confess.”

“Fuck. If she knew anything about us, she would have sung like a canary,” he glares at me pointedly, and I take the verbal potshot.

“Well, she’s going to know us now,” I reply grimly.

“It’s about fucking time,” he mutters and starts glaring out the window.

Chapter Six

Tera

I don’t find anything in Joe’s house that leads me to a relative. It’s a sad and lonely three-bedroom that’s perfect for a family and way too easy to break into. There are photos of his wife everywhere and seeing them makes me cry all over again.

Maybe they met up in the afterlife and are happy now. I hope so. He always talked about her as if she was the most precious thing he ever held. He considered himself lucky to have had her for as long as he did before she passed. That kind of love just isn’t real anymore.

They never had children, which is a shame. I would have loved to meet any kids he produced. They would all have his sense of humor and her smile. The perfect combo.

It’s a spotless place with clothes folded neatly and no clutter. There isn’t any liquor in the cabinets, which I think is weird. Maybe he was just a social drinker? But he never came in with anyone.

I found the number to a lawyer’s office with the word ‘will’ written on the back. I left a message, hoping his paperwork has a next of kin listed. Then I called the hospital at the number they left for me and let them know. It’s the only thing I can do. I keep the card just in case.

I’m trying not to think about the fact the county is going to have to take care of his burial. I can’t afford anything like that. My friend has to be handed over to strangers to be taken care of. I shove the feelings down to think clearly, exactly what South would recommend. I need to call her.

It’s been several blissfully quiet days since I kicked everyone out of my apartment and my life. Except for Trevor, that is.

After I woke up again, because I still hadn’t turned off my alarm for work, I went through all my contacts and blocked Andi’s number and her boyfriends’ and bodyguards’. I even blocked the unknown number Max called me from. I may have made him laugh, but he’s a grump, and I know the degrading comments are bound to start any time.

Then I deleted all of the messages in one fell swoop, not listening to a single one. Now I have Trevor’s number saved, some of my fellow servers who call when they need me to take their shift, the bar’s main line, and Mrs. Danvers, who lives down the hall and needs help hauling her laundry downstairs to the washing machines and back. Everyone else is terrified of her because she’s always so surly. I think she’s hilarious, personally.

---