Page 70 of Elusion

“Pay the man,” Callie says.

Shayna offers me the money—for what, I have no idea. I accept reluctantly while she gives me a shameless once-over that reminds me of Jess.

“I never got a good look,” she whines. “What happened to you showing him off for the cameras before he changed?”

Callie pulls me to safety, heading toward the exit. “Bye, Shayna.”

“Pete’s birthday’s coming up,” she shouts after us. “You should come!”

The instant we step outside, I tug Callie around so her chest bumps into mine. “What’s the money for?” I ask.

“Consider it the first installment for Cate’s swim lessons.”

Well, that didn’t take long for her to find out about.

“First of all, swim lessons are on me.” A quick kiss intended to prevent her from arguing turns out to be a mistake because I want more. “I have a follow-up question then. What was she paying you for?”

Callie presses her lips together, her face turning a hint redder. “We might have won a long-standing bet by having sex in the steam room.” She rushes down the sidewalk, away from me.

She amazes me. No, she astounds me.

After I get in the car, I twist around to the backseat passengers. “Who wants to go spend twenty dollars?”

Cate squeals, and Connor looks up from his phone. Callie, well, I feel her glare penetrating my soul.

Sorry, beautiful.

“Can we have blue slushies, Cal?” Cate asks.

The innocent question makes Connor’s brows pull together, his eyes darting to Callie. Her head tilts in a conspicuous manner, and they stare at each other. It’s like they’re engaging in an entire conversation without words until the crease between his eyebrows disappears.

She nods at Cate. “Blue slushies it is.”

Turning out of the parking lot, Callie heads in the opposite direction from where we came. She glances over, keeping her voice low when she says, “Sutterville’s convenience store has a blue slushie machine.”

“Sutterville, as in…” I trail off, not wanting to say much more with Cate listening.

She nods. “We usually try to avoid it sinceanyonecould be there.”

Anyone meaning Graham. My shoulders tense at the possibility of seeing her father. More often than not, I encourage a peaceful resolution, but I doubt my pacifistic preferences will prevail if I see him. Other than Hitler and those types, he’s the first person I’ve hated without meeting.

Through the rearview mirror, I catch Connor staring out the window. His expression’s hard to place. Haunted maybe. The empty eyes remind me of Callie’s the week of my birthday. Trey mentioned being scared of Graham breaking her. I’ve never once stopped to think how the same might apply to Connor.

Fifteen’s a hard age in itself between the hormones and wanting to be an adult, but everyone treats you like a child. At that age, Callie found an escape. She drank, smoked, and put herself in danger, all to help her forget the pain and anger inside. What does Connor do? Sports? Maybe basketball’s his way of dealing with emotions too heavy for him to cope with on his own.

Our drive only takes a few minutes. Callie slows down to a crawl, pulling in while she and Connor scan the area. Patience worn thin, Cate jumps out the second we park. Connor grumbles and hurries in after her. Callie meets me at the front of the car. She runs her hand up my arm, and the girl does things to me when she bites her lip. I hold the door and slide my hand over her ass as she walks through.

Bedtime can’t come fast enough.

She grins, waving to the lady behind the counter. “Hi, Rhonda.”

The middle-aged lady with stringy black hair smirks and returns her attention to a magazine.

Straight in, the slushie machine occupies Connor and Cate. After she reaches them, Callie veers left and back to the wall of cooler doors. I wander around the gas station, taking in the small-town life. Sutterville’s only a third of the size of Waymore. Hell, we drove in on an unpaved street.

Mostly to annoy Callie, I pick up more fruit snacks before joining her siblings. So Cate can press the button, Connor holds her. She’s filling a second forty-ounce cup. I hope she’s making one for each of us because that much blue slush in that little of a girl cannot lead anywhere good.

A bell dings as a customer enters. I blame movies for my disappointment when he’s not wearing boots or a cowboy hat. Actually, if the other residents look like him, I’m way off base. He wears an unbuttoned plaid shirt over a white T-shirt and black jeans. He slips off his beanie and reveals styled blond hair. A nod and a smirk on his way to the back add to an asshole vibe given off by his eyebrow ring.

---