Page 85 of Give Me Perfect Love

“Yeah. I’m leaving the drive-thru now. Be there in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

I walk over to my high heels and scoop them up before sliding them on. Making my way over to the stack of mail, I flip an envelope over and open a drawer to look for a pen. Finding one, I write Bryce a note, telling him I went home, and at the end of it, I draw a heart, just like he did for me.

The proof of rain shines on the pavement when I walk outside to climb into Austin’s car. It’s a classic that he rebuilt himself. It purrs and then roars to life when he shifts into first gear.

He looks over at me. “Fucking hell,” he says, his voice laced with sick sadness.

I know I look shocking, and I know this isn’t easy for my best guy friend to see. Hell, I have a hard time looking at it myself.

I sigh. “I know.”

Austin grips onto the wheel. The smell of takeout breakfast in the back seat makes my stomach growl.

I never ate last night.

I look out the window as we head to mine and Claire’s place. The world is silver gray, gloomy. It’s cold and depressing. Heat blows from the vents in the car, and I put my hands up to it, trying to warm my bones.

“Kat, your wrists,” Austin says in shock.

I flip my hands over, looking at the slits. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think I tried to off myself.

“I’m going to wrap them when I get home.”

Austin slams his hand down onto the steering wheel, causing me to jump. “That motherfucker,” he says through gritted teeth. He rubs his face before reaching up and grabbing his pack of smokes from the dashboard. Letting his knee do the driving, he hits the pack against his palm and slides one out. Tossing them back onto the dash, he lifts up and pulls his lighter from his pocket before striking it and burning the end.

Smoke overpowers the takeout food and eases my best guy’s nerves.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He runs his hand through his dirty blond hair.

I laugh. “After the shit I’ve been through, you showing that you’re angry at what Cain did doesn’t scare me, Austin.”

“I shouldn’t have let this happened. We got too careless.”

“Are you serious?” I ask disbelievingly. “None of us saw this coming. We all thought he was gone. This is no one’s fault.”

When I say that out loud, my mind immediately goes back to the man with black hair.

“Sorry for the loose ends. It’s not my style.”

Questions linger on the tip of my tongue, but the person I want answers from isn’t here.

Who was that man, and why was he apologizing to Bryce? Was he the dog Cain was talking about?

Did Bryce hire someone to kill Cain?

I look out the windshield, my eyes scanning mindlessly as we pass by buildings and parked cars.

What is Bryce mixed up in? My heart deflates at the thought that I might not really know him, and like he’s read my mind, Austin says, “Who was that guy who shot Cain?”

I look over at him. Smoke curls out of the cracked window as the cigarette rests between his fingers. Austin has permanent grease stains under his nails from working on cars his whole life. He not only rebuilds them, he fixes them for part-time cash.

Although I’m not sure why. The boy gets paid a shit load to rebuild old classics that have been left to rust.

“I don’t know. That’s the first time I’ve ever seen him.”

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