Page 43 of Safe With Me
Her reply pinged while I stacked rolled socks in the drawer of the cheap, beat-up dresser.I don’t need a babysitter
I stared at that a moment. Sheesh, the woman was stubborn as fuck.Well you got one. What do you need from the store?
A trio of bubbles popped up on the screen, disappeared, reappeared.
Sweet coffee creamer
Dark chocolate
A new life
The corner of my mouth twitched.Got you covered
With my stomach still growling, but my mood lighter, I headed out. I’d camp out on her couch again, then run back home to change before I started my day at the farm. All I needed for her place was myself, coffee creamer, and dark chocolate.
Maybe a plan for her new life.
I swung into the half-full Winn Dixie parking lot. Snagging a cart, I ducked down the candy aisle first and tossed in acouple of bags of dark chocolate with varying levels of sweetness. Sometimes, Hannah wanted it sweet and smooth, while other times she preferred bitter and gritty. I ambled a couple of aisles on my way to the dairy section, grabbing crackers then a pack of pepperoni from the meat section before adding Oreos because Hannah liked them. A can of cashews made the cut, too.
Somehow, Winn Dixie always settled me down, probably because I associated it with Mama. I mean, my whole childhood this was where Mama shopped. She knew everyone by name, from Mr. Drew in the meat market to Mr. John in the bakery. I’d gone from sitting in the buggy to walking beside it with a hand on it because Mama made me. Hell, even as a teenager, I’d caught myself grabbing on. She’d laugh at me, but that was Mama. She laughed a lot.
In my head, I could hear her laughing about not going to the grocery store hungry. Exactly what I’d done today. With a shrug, I tossed a bag of dried cranberries after the nuts. Wonder if Hannah had popcorn?
“ . . . Hannah Hall out with another man, as bold as you please, after what she did to her sister.” Mrs. Gail’s voice carried down the aisle, and I jerked my head around, clenching the cart handle.
The woman standing by her nodded. “I saw that video. Poor Elizabeth . . .”
The thing about losing everything is you have nothing to lose. That’s a dangerous way to live in a small town.
Fuck if they were going to diminish Hannah while I was around.
A couple of strides closed the distance between us, and I slanted my cart sideways to block the aisle. Behind them, Colt Calvert, still wearing his church clothes, turned the corner and paused, examining the rows of protein bars.
I pinned a look on Mrs. Gail. “Elizabeth’s lying about that.”
Her mouth dropped, shock clear on her face. Yeah, she wasn’t used to being called out. Half the county was afraid of her gossipy ass.
Yeah, that wasn’t me.
Colt’s head swiveled in my direction, his brows lowering.
I ignored him – he was a couple inches taller than me, but I’d whip his ass if I had to because she was going to stop this shittoday.
“You need to stop repeating that bullshit.” I jutted my chin at her. “Keep Hannah’s name out of your mouth.”
Mrs. Gail bristled – right hand to God, I watched her entire body ripple with affront. She lifted her nose like something smelled bad. “I don’t think Elizabeth would put it out there on YouTube if it weren’t true.”
“Because everything on the Internet is true.” Colt snorted, glaring at the back of her head while he set a canister of oatmeal in his cart. His glower took on a pointed look when Mrs. Gail turned to him. “And people don’t lie for attention.”
“You don’t know her. You don’t know the truth.” I geared up, ready to take all my fury over the situation out on this woman – old enough to know better, I might add – who’d hurt and humiliated Hannah. “It’s not bad enough you embarrassed her, but you’re out here spreading shit like fertilizer.”
A dark red spread from her collarbone up her neck to her face, and her chest puffed out like Uga’s. “Your mama must be rolling over–”
Ice shot down my spine before a nuclear blast went off in my brain, a shockwave followed by fire through my whole body. “You don’t fucking mention my mama. You don’t know jack shit about who she was or what she taught me.”
The store stilled except for some little kid crying a few rows over and the twelve-year-old weekend manager hustling our way. He glanced from Colt to me to Mrs. Gail to her mortified partner in gossip. His Adam’s apple jerked above his clip-on tie. “Is there a problem?”
“Just telling Mrs. Gail here that she’s a damn liar.” Now I had an audience, a handful of customers pausing at either end of the aisle. Colt stood, alert, poised like waiting for the ball to snap all those years ago on the football field. “All that mess she’s spreading about Hannah and Jase? Not true.”
