Page 48 of No Romeo
Halfway down the highway, my rage dissipated, and reality set in. I’d just lost my job. The day after I’d actually found somewhere to rent. And I’d spent half a week’s rent on that damn pill.
I pulled my phone from my bag to call Kyle, but when I went to dial his number, it was dead. I put my arm in my mouth and bit down to stop myself from screaming, then kicked a beer can from the shoulder. Warm liquid splattered my ankle, and it sent me over the edge.
This entire day could go fuck itself.
A mile down the road, I stopped in front of the abandoned Piggly Wiggly and leaned over my knees. Only three more miles to go…
Gravel crunched behind me when a vehicle pulled onto the shoulder.
I turned, fully expecting to see some pervert trying his luck, but instead, I found Chad’s truck. The window lowered. “You need a ride?”
“No, I—”
“Sissa!” That little voice was the only thing that could possibly make me feel better about this terrible day.
I walked to the passenger side of the truck and glanced in the back.
Gracie sat strapped into a booster seat, the sparkly, yellow netting of another princess dress filling most of the space. A smear of chocolate covered her chubby cheek as she smiled at me.
“Get in,” Chad said, and I did.
“Hey, Jellybean.” I glanced over my shoulder, smiling at her sweet face as I fastened my seatbelt. “Where have you been all dressed up?”
“To a party. We had cake, a bounce house, and Cinderella.” She rambled about the entire party, including the ponies—who the hell could afford ponies at a kid’s party?
Chad glanced over to check the traffic on the highway, and his gaze drifted to my shirt. “You left in the middle of your shift?”
“I quit.” The silence was filled only by thetick tick tickof his blinker. “I might have dumped a jug of iced tea over a Barrington bitch.”
“So, Pete was about to fire you...”He laughed when I flipped him off.
This time, instead of directing him to Kyle’s, I gave him directions to Hendrix’s house.
The minute the faded white siding came into view, my attention went right to Hendrix pushing a mower through the front yard. Shirtless and sweaty, the sun glinting off his slick chest and abs.
Jesus Christ. Living with him would be so much easier if he looked even alittle bitaverage.
Chad turned his truck into the drive. Gracie was midsentence about the pink glitter strung through one of the pony’s manes when she gasped. “King Buttmunch!”
The seat belt clicked, and the back door flew open.
“Gracie—” I started, but she was already off across the drive in a cloud of yellow netting.
Hendrix cut the mower as she sprinted across the weed-covered lawn. “Princess Dingleberry!” Grinning, he bent down, opening his arms wide just before she collided with his broad frame. He scooped up my sister, wrapping his tattooed arms around her little frame as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.
My heart clenched right along with my ovaries.
He’d always called her Princess Dingleberry, and she’s always called him King Buttmunch. I couldn’t even remember how it started or why.
“Huh,” Chad said. “Never expected Hunt to—”
“She loves him,” my voice cracked. As much as had been taken from me, it had been taken from her, too—and Hendrix. “She’s like a little sister to him.” I slid out of the truck and rounded the front.
When I was close enough to hear them, Gracie was giving Hendrix the spiel about the party. “...and we got to ride them.” She traced her tiny finger over the tattoo on his neck. “And we went swimming because Sara’s house is a castle with a pool.”
“Yeah?” He stared at her, enthralled, while she rambled on and on, talkingathim.
And I stood to the side, watching, my heart weaker than it had ever been for him because I was weak for Gracie. And the pair of them together… Hendrix had raised her more than our own mother, certainly more than her sperm donor father.
