Page 71 of Mother Clucker

My hands were shaking as I started navigating around the complex commands of my cell.

Lucy had deleted all his texts and any history of his calls. I didn’t even have his number anymore.

A truck whizzed past me, so fast it rocked my car.

This was crazy sitting here. I was going to end up as road kill.

I could call Anna back, make up some excuse and ask her for David’s number. But I had a better idea. Now was a good time to visit Rowdy, who happened to live with one of David’s best friends.

Perfect.

Throwing on my blinker, I eased out between the cars and was about to head for Cerritos and Drew’s farm . . . until I heard the ding.

I saw the little pump icon on my dash light up. Because why wouldn’t I be almost out of gas right now? Everything else in my life was turning into crud.

Blowing out a breath, I got into the right lane again and headed for the exit and the nearest gas station.

I knew it well. It was where I’d first laid eyes on David. Where I’d had to go inside to pay because the stupid credit card machine on the pump was broken.

It was either a sign or a cosmic joke that I’d run out of gas right here. Either way, I was going in.

29

David

The dark screen of my phone mocked me.

Mother fucker. One day I would remember to charge my damn cell phone before it ran out of battery.

No, actually, as soon as I wasn’t behind the damn wheel I was going to order a dozen chargers. Car chargers. Wall chargers. Battery backup chargers.

I’d have them absolutely everywhere.

Hell, I’d even find a holster and keep one on my belt. That way I’d never have a dead phone again.

But right now, the damn cell was as dead as that carcass I’d just passed on the highway. The only thing I could do was keep driving.

I glanced at the clock on the dash.

The adopt-a-thon would be long over. But that was okay. Better, actually. I’d go directly to Heather’s condo and make her listen to me.

I’d explain everything, beg her forgiveness for my lack of communication those first few days, and then spend the night making it up to her—if she let me.

She was hella mad. Not one reply to any of my texts or voicemails. And there’d been a lot of them. But I didn’t expect anything less from my stubborn opinionated strong-willed girl.

God, I hoped she was still my girl when this was all over.

It was hard finding a parking spot but I finally managed it a couple of blocks away. I didn’t see Heather’s car but I didn’t let that dissuade me from striding up to her door.

Who knows? Maybe she couldn’t find a spot nearby either.

I rang the bell. It took a few minutes but finally the door swung in—and a man stood blocking the entry.

What the fuck? Was this one of the Navy SEALs? I evaluated him and decided he was too old and too . . . paunchy. But maybe he was the retired one?

Only one way to find out. “Uh, I was looking for Heather.”

He frowned then turned his head and yelled, “Honey, was the house sitter named Heather?”

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