Page 33 of Outcast
Neal faltered, obviously sensing something off about Holden’s tone. “Sure thing.” He pulled the order sheet off his pad and set it on the table. “Pay it when you’re ready.”
I took a long pull from my straw, eyes slipping closed as the creamy flavor coated my tongue. It had been alongtime since I’d tasted that exact combination of flavors—and it took me right back to my teenage years.
I remembered coming in here and flirting with the female owner while secretly eyeing Emory across the room.
I opened my eyes to find him watching me with a hint of pink staining his cheeks. Things had changed, hadn’t they? He’d never looked back before.
“How much debt are we talking?” Holden asked, jerking me back to the shitty situation at hand.
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
“Fifty. Jesus.” Holden looked like he was going to be sick. “Why would you ever agree to this deal? You had to know he wouldn’t come up with this money.”
Emory looked almost as nauseated as Holden. “He probably planned to, um, sell?—”
“No,” Holden said sharply.
“Maybe it’s the best solution,” I said hesitantly. “You could start fresh. The property is worth more than the debt. You’d come out ahead.”
Holden gave me the coldest fucking look I’d gotten since returning. Colder even than Axel’s accusing gaze.
“We’re not selling the business, so you can fuck off with that bullshit.” His gaze swung to Emory. “Andyou.”
Emory shrank back in his seat.
Holden took a deep breath and exhaled. “You were trying to give the old man a break. I get that. But you didn’t do us any goddamned favors.”
He shoved his chair back and stomped away, hitting the door so hard that a few people turned with a gasp as he stormed out.
“I’m so sorry,” Emory said in a small voice.
Every person in the whole damn soda shop was staring at us. I couldn’t tip up his chin like I wanted. Couldn’t look into his eyes like I had on that roadside.
I had to use my words, and that was always so much harder.
“He’s not angry with you, golden boy. It’s our old man, you know? This business is everything to Holden.”
Emory looked up. “What about you?”
I shrugged. I’d lost everything once before. It made me cautious about getting attached.
The auto shop, the house, the junkyard. None of it was mine.
“I’m just passing through. Came to help out my brothers. Looks like maybe they need more help than I anticipated.”
Emory lifted a fingernail to his mouth, gnawing at it. I noticed three other ragged fingernails on the same hand.
Apparently, even Emory Gold had bad habits.
I reached out and drew his hand down, giving it a quick squeeze before withdrawing. “Is there anything we can do?”
“I know Holden doesn’t want to sell the business, but you’ve got other property. The house or the junkyard…”
I winced, thinking of Axel’s attachment to the place. That would go over like a lead balloon.
“Maybe we can sell off some equipment instead.”
Emory nodded. “Sure, as long as you get the funds together. I’d offer to refinance it or write a new loan, but it’s unlikely you’d qualify.”
