Sophia nods. “I know who you are. You don’t look that scary.”
I’m surprised she’s acting nice. We all know who Elena is.
And what she did.
She killed cows. Blew up Blue and Libby’s place.
All I could think when I heard of her was what I’d have done if she had attacked our place.
Hell, I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be nice.
“I’m gonna go grab the pizzas.” I don’t really want anything to do with her. “Glad I gotta name to the face.”
Turning on the heel of my Ariat boot, I walk away from the first person I think I’ve ever felt hatred towards.
Chapter 2
Val
Where the fuck didhe go?
Six pizzas pull me away from the bar, the place where my brothershould be.
Slacker.
Probably sucked into his phone with his girlfriend and lost track of time.
Again.
There’s a part of me that is almost looking forward to him leaving full time for college. It’s easier knowing he won’t be here at all then hoping he’s helpful when he’s scheduled.
The bell over the main door alerts me just how damn far behind I am.
“Be right there!” I yell, furiously smearing tomato sauce across the dough.
A crooked baseball hat over an unruly mop of shaggy brown hair pops in through the swinging divider.
“Hey, Val. Is Scotty here?” Sawyer’s blue eyes are saucers as he fixes his gaze on the uncooked pie in front of me.
“He was, but I have no idea where he’s at. And if you want these done any time soon, you best wait out there unless you’re wanting to be put to work,” I snap at him.
I’ve known him since he was ten or so, but after I got married I didn’t see him much until just the last few years after Chris died.
Was killed.
Whatever. He deserved it.
But I remember Sawyer being into everything when he was little. I can’t imagine much has changed since.
As if he could hear me thinking, he pushes all the way into the kitchen. His tanned lanky arms stick out from an old Atari t-shirt that hangs crooked over his shoulders.
“I can help. Ain’t nothin’ else to do but wait anyway.” He shrugs. “Point and shoot.”
He can’t be serious.
“Start by washing your hands.” I jut my chin towards the stainless steel commercial sink. “Well,” I add as an afterthought.
Who knows what kind of animal shit he’s been playing in today?
