Page 85 of Only Fate

It could be too much, too soon.

Turning around, she picks up a mug shaped like a cowboy boot. “How’s our boy?”

“He’s recovering well.” I drop my phone on the table and walk toward her, wearing only my unbuttoned slacks. “Foster wants to keep him one more night.”

My shoulders slump in disappointment. I hoped to have him back today.

“We’ll have to throw him awelcome homeparty.” She takes a sip of her latte.

I grin, loving that she cares about Tucker enough to do that. “Now, I know you gave meplentyof favors last night, but can I ask for one more?” I form my hands into a pleading motion. “I need a ride to the auto repair shop to pick up my car.”

She dramatically squishes her face. “Iguessit’s the least I can do after last night.”

I wrap my arms around her waist and draw her closer. “If you still need convincing, I have another hour until I need to go.”

“Unfortunately, I must take a rain check on that. I have a busy day today.”

“What’s on your agenda, Ms. Lane?”

“I have an interview with a paralegal candidate in an hour. And tonight, Mia is throwing Callie a surprise birthday party. Want to come?”

Even though I want to jump for joy at her invite, I keep my cool.

Essie has gone from repeatedly telling me to get my ass out of town to inviting me to parties.

I like this version much better.

“I’d love to come.” I push a strand of her hair behind her ear. “And thank you for showing me all of you last night.”

“I’m sorry for taking so long.” Her gaze drops to the floor, avoiding eye contact with me.

I place a finger under her chin, lifting it until our eyes meet. “Don’t apologize. You needed time, and I respect that.”

She clears her throat, slowly walks to the table, and sits. “My burn scars are from a car accident when I was in high school.” She holds up a hand. “It wasn’t an accident. My friend and I were purposely hit. My friend died. I survived, but that didn’t mean I got out untouched.”

“What do you mean, purposely hit?”

“He meant to hit us.”

“Why would someone do that?”

“It was our school custodian who’d been fired. He blamedhis firing on the students and decided to take it out on us. He started with me and Ethan, a friend I tutored. We were in his Jeep when a truck came toward us in the wrong lane with its bright lights on. Ethan kept trying to swerve out of the way, but the truck kept following us.”

Her lip trembles, and she covers her mouth as a sob leaves her.

I grab her hand, giving it a squeeze, and massage my thumb along her skin.

She clears her throat and sniffles before going on, “He finally hit us. Ethan was killed on impact. The Jeep caught on fire, and as I crawled out of the car, debris hit my stomach, going through my shirt. I rolled on the grass, trying to get rid of the burns and put them out. But I still suffered third-degree burns and these … scars.” She sighs. “The man is in prison now.” A tear slips down her cheek. “But he might be free soon.”

Free because of my mother’s organization.

My breathing slows.

Tell her, Adrian.

Tell her, goddamn it.

I’m such a chickenshit.

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