Page 117 of Rider Daddies
“He’s dead, Lucia.”
Fuck. I killed him.
The car stunt was a success.
“Did you get me an invite to his funeral?”
Willow scrunches up her brow. “No.”
“That’s a shame. I would’ve volunteered to read out his obituary and let the congregation know what sort of man they were grieving. But on second thoughts, it’d be a waste of breath. I’d only be speaking to myself.”
Willow snorts.
Little does she know, I’m just getting started.
“I hope he was wearing his best suit that night.”
“Lucia!”
“What?”
“Shh!”
I’ll shut up when I’m dead. “You know what he said to me before I did it?”
“Do I wanna know?”
I push myself up in the bed, feeling like a grandma. “He told me that it’d be easier for him if I was dead.”
Willow’s eyes flicker across my face. She’s probably trying to work out if this is another joke, but deep down, she knows what Tristan was like. She only had to meet him a handful of times to know that there wasn’t much going upstairs, unless it involved work, collecting his suits from the dry cleaners, or me.
“Thank you,” I say.
Willow frowns.
I know, I’m just as confused as her about all of this.
“Why are you thanking me?”
“Oh, don’t get it twisted, I still hate your guts, but you saved me.” I narrow my eyes. “I don’t know, maybe you had mad bestie intuition and that’s why you decided to kiss him behind my back on my wedding day.”
Willow rounds out her shoulders and mumbles, “Yeah. Something like that.” She lets out a deep sigh and changes the conversation. “The police want to speak to you.”
“Ugh. Can’t they find it in their hearts and pass on the speeding fine, just this time? I was almost killed.”
“Lucia, this is serious. They want to bring you in for questioning.”
“They wanna find out if I was drunk?”
“No, they already did a breathalyzer. Apparently they want to ask you some questions about the accident.”
I roll my eyes. “It was an accident. What more do they want to ask?”
“I don’t know, but they apparently wanted to see you as soon as you woke up. That’s what one of the nurses told me.”
Time to bullshit my way out of this one.
“We appreciate you coming out here to the station,” says the receptionist as she checks me in.
