Page 64 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
“I smell like wood smoke and beer. I’m fixin' to hit the shower,” Willow said. She’d held it together this long, but something was clawing its way up out of her and she wasn’t sure how it would emerge.
Drew just nodded. “Whatever you need. You feeling okay? Physically, I mean.”
“I might throw up,” she said. “Otherwise, all good.”
It wasn’t true. Her head was throbbing. She ducked into the bathroom, closed and locked the door, and then pressed her back against it and slid all the way down. Tears burned, but her mind raged. How dare he use her like that?
How dare I let him?
The voice in her head was sometimes cruelly accurate. She raised her head, then got up and went to crank on the shower knobs. But as she undressed, she kept her watery eyes fixed on her own mirrored gaze, and as she let herself feel the anger, the tears dried and left their burning salt behind.
“On the one hand, it’s stupid to want vengeance. I knew who he was the whole time. I knew the risk. And I’m a shitty cop for ignorin’ every warnin’ sign. I got nobody to blame but myself.”
She stepped into the shower. The flow was too hot. She didn’t adjust it, but turned her whole body to feel the burn. “On the other hand,” she whispered, “I’m fixin’ to make that Gringo pay for breakin’ my heart.”
Her slow turn stopped. “I don’t know why I said that. He sure as hell didn’t break my heart.”
A tap on the door. God, she just wanted to be alone and wallow in her emotions!
“Yeah?”
“Maria and Lily are here,” Drew said through the door.
“Okay.” Cause what was she supposed to say? Tell them to get out, and while she was at it, to get out herself?
She took a deep breath, “I’ll be a minute.”
“Take as long as you want, hon. We can clear out if?—”
She didn’t answer, because she was fully distracted by reaching out of the shower and feeling around the counter for her remote. She tapped its speaker icon, and said, “Play my Pissed-off list. Max volume.”
The music came on. She sang along, even the swear words, not loud enough so anyone would hear her. Hell, she could sing as loud as she wanted and nobody would hear her over that female vocalist calling her man a liar and a cheat.
When Willow emerged some forty minutes later in stupid flannel pajamas and oversized socks, she was still good and pissed, but at least she had a plan.
“Hey, gals.”
“Freakin’ men, anyway,” Drew said.
To which the happily married ladies replied with an unconvincing, “You said it!” and “Dang ‘em all!”
Then came the obligatory group hug. She’d grown up with this. It was a ritual. She just wasn’t used to being on the receiving end.
“I brought ice cream,” Maria said.
“I stole booze from the bonfire,” Lily added. “Nobody suspected me. I’m the pregnant one.”
She nodded at the overstuffed beach bag she’d left by the front door. It was bulging with beer bottles.
“Why’d you stop the music?” Drew asked. Then, addressing the nearby speaker, “Resume the music. Volume down to medium.”
The music resumed at a lower volume. Willow leaned over the speaker and tapped the volume down a little more. “I’m not going to be much fun, girls.”
“No shit,” Maria said, then clapped a hand over her mouth and widened her eyes. “I may still be buzzed from the bonfire,” she said. “Let’s keep it going!” She went to the bag of bottles and took three by their necks in one hand.
She returned, arm out. Willow took one, then Drew. “Hey, Lily, there’s pop and sweet tea in the fridge. Put it in a fancy wine glass from the rack over there.”
Lily rolled her eyes, but did exactly that.
