Page 117 of Moonshine Kiss
She must have seen the look on my face because Scarlett gave me a shove. “I knew it! And you didn’t tell me? What the hell is your problem?”
I looked out through the glass and noted that Bowie and Devlin were staring out into the dark, pretending they couldn’t hear us.
“My problem is he thinks I’m only here because my daddy gave me a job.”
“Fuck. That. Why are you trying to prove yourself to a man who is obviously a ginormous fucking moron?”
“Because maybe he’s right!” I shouted back.
Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Now you’re being an idiot.”
“What if he’s right? What if I don’t belong on the force? What if the only reason I got this job was because my daddy gave it to me?”
“You’re letting him get in your head. You’re letting some asshole stranger come in and tell you how to live your life. You’re letting him wreck your job and turn your friends into enemies. Worst of all, you’re letting him come between you and the guy you’ve loved since pre-school.”
I flopped back on the couch, suddenly too tired to fight. Besides, Scarlett didn’t like to hit people when they were sad.
“You keepin’ secrets is you choosing Connelly over us when he’s done nothing to deserve your loyalty. Stop treating us like the enemy and start treating him like one.”
I was so tired of all the secrets. They were piling up left and right like firewood. Sooner or later it would all catch fire.
“Fine. I think Connelly’s so tied up in this personal vendetta that he’s ignoring important pieces of the investigation,” I told her. “Mrs. Kendall turned in photos of Callie’s self-inflicted injuries and far as I can tell, he hasn’t even had a conversation with her or the judge about them.”
To her credit, Scarlett didn’t immediately jump all over me with questions.
“And for the record, Bowie knows about the pictures but only because the Kendalls brought them up in front of him. And if word leaks about them, Connelly’s gonna know it came from me and that would be the final nail in my professional coffin.”
Scarlett’s wheels were turning. She was a fixer, a burn-it-downer. I couldn’t tell which way she was leaning at this point.
“I’ve been seeing your brother since right before Thanksgiving. He agreed to a six-week trial to see if there’s something real between us.”
“And is there?” Scarlett asked expectantly.
“Of course there is,” I looked to the glass door, wondering if he could hear me. “I love him. Always have. Worse yet, I’minlove with him. But we keep rubbing up against my job. I’ve wanted this forever, Scar. I’ve wanted to be a cop in Bootleg and I’ve always wanted to be Bowie Bodine’s girl. Why can’t I have both?”
“Listen up, Cass. You listen up good. Just because twenty-three-year-old Bowie hurt you, doesn’t make him a bad guy. And just because this Connelly fella is the law, doesn’t automatically make him a good guy.”
She paced toward me and back around the debris of her newly combined life. “You’ve gone and let both of them influence how you feel about yourself. That’s your damn problem. You keep letting other people’s opinions about you influence your own. And it’s none of your damn business what other people think of you. Your job is to go out there and be the best damn Cassidy Tucker you can be. Not livin’ up or down to someone else’s take on you.”
I blinked. Several times. “Is that what I’m doing?”
Scarlett dramatically collapsed on the floor and covered her face with her hands. “Dear Lord, grant me the serenity to not murder all of my dumbass friends and family,” she moaned.
“What in the hell am I supposed to do?” I asked, exasperated.
“Figure out what the hell you want. Do you want to be a deputy? Do you want to be with my brother?”
“Yes, but how—”
“Does knowing the people you’re policing diminish your ability to be good at your job?”
“No, but—”
“Do you want to wake up to Bowie every Christmas morning for the rest of your life?”
Yes.
I did. I wanted a lifetime with the man. Of cookies baking in the oven, babies laughing, kisses stolen in the pantry, of quiet nights where nothing else mattered but his skin against mine.
