Page 13 of Outlaw Heartstrings
I just don’t know. The risk of this hurting my nephew is too high, and I’m determined to protect him at all costs.
Before I can get another word in, my phone goes off.“Shit—my alarm.”
Setting down my hair brush, I limp in the direction of my bedroom.
“No time to sit around obsessing over Easton now,” I murmur to my best friend. “I have my next job to get to.”
6
EASTON
“Ijust don’t see why we need to leave the house so damn early.” Lincoln’s still yawning as he yanks open the driver’s side door and climbs inside. “Your appointment isn’t for another two hours. And it’s not like there’s traffic around here or anything.”
I shake my head from where I’m already buckled up and ready to go in the passenger seat. “I can’t miss this doctor’s appointment. They already did us a favor by squeezing me in this week, and I’m freaking thrilled at the possibility of getting off these crutches.”
My grumpy chauffeur snorts a chuckle. “Oh, I believe you. I’d bet you’resodone with those death sticks.”
“That’s an understatement,” I confirm with a grunt. “My underarms are sore and achy as hell from hopping around on those damn things for all these months.”
I flip down the sun visor and peer into the mirror. I groomed my beard and I ironed my shirt and I may have possibly put on a tad too much cologne. In my defense,notlooking and smelling like a homeless person is important tome today. Today’s probably the day I’m getting off my crutches, after all.
But the moment the car pulls out of the driveway, I realize that it’s not the crutches I’m so anxious about. I’m anxious because we’ll be driving by the church.
The local hospital is right down the street from the old chapel where some of my classmates and I used to volunteer every Wednesday evening. Those were some good times. Somehow, I’ve got a feeling that visiting the church will give me a hint or two about what is going on with Alba.
Why the hell was she so weird around me yesterday? A bunch of scenarios run through my head.
Does it have something to do with her father?Back in the day, Coach Anderson made it no secret that he didn’t want me putting my filthy hands on his golden child. But Alba and I are adults now. Things are different. She wouldn’t let her old man keep us from being friends—or possibly more—would she?
I weigh another explanation in my mind.Maybe she’s angry that I gave her little boyfriend a bloody nose a few days before I left town.
In my defense, Christopher The Fuckface was talking a whole lot of misogynistic crap behind Alba’s back the night of my farewell bonfire. He was talking about her like she was just a piece of meat he couldn’t wait to stick his peanut-sized dick into. He deserved to be put in his place. Hell, I’d be glad to put him in his place all over again, any day of the week. I’m pretty confident that if I could just explain the situation to Alba, she wouldn’t hold it against me now.
Or what if, she found out that I hooked up with her sister on the night of the bonfire?Shit. My blood runs cold at the prospect that Alba found out about that. But even if she did, why wouldshe care? She and I were just friends. Plus, she was in a serious relationship of her own. So technically, she’d have no reason to be mad that something happened between Raya and me. Still, I’d hate for her to think that I’m some kind of slutty sleaze ball. I always wanted Alba to have a positive opinion of me.
I run through all those scenarios again and again.
Damn. I did some shitty things in the weeks before I left Fairy Bush. But in the present moment, I try not to beat myself up too much about those mistakes I made. I was a hormonal teen from a broken home. I was doing my best to navigate my way through a world where the odds were all stacked against me. I’d say I did a pretty good job, all things considered.
In any case, I’m anxious to figure out the reason for all the weirdness between Alba and me now. My impatience grows as we enter the heart of town, cruising past the quaint store fronts on Sunflower Avenue. But as the car rolls further along, confusion rises, clouding my head. Because there is now a big, modern coffee shop on the corner where the large brick church building once stood tall.
Lincoln notices, too. “Hey. Looks like they demolished the old church,” he remarks, casually sliding on his sunglasses.
Meanwhile, panic ignites in my chest. What the hell is going on here?
When we pull into the small hospital parking lot, I frantically gaze around. “Are you sure this is the right spot?”
Lincoln gives me a funny look. “This is the one and only hospital in town.”
“But…” I look around again. “Where’s the church?”
He hops out, stretching his legs as he gazes at our surroundings. “Everything looks different, huh?”
Eyebrows pinched together, I get out of the car, too. I’mso confused. I unlock my phone, double-checking the address. But the online map confirms that we’re at the right spot.
“You’re being weird, bro. What’s going on in that big head of yours?” Lincoln asks, and I realize he’s been staring at me since he parked the car.
“Nothing,” I lie. “I just need some caffeine. We’ve got some time. Let’s stop in at that coffee shop.”
