But I still got death threats on the daily thanks to his fan base thinking that I didn’t do enough to watch over him when he needed it the most.
I’d had a lot of time to contemplate all the things, especially in that first six months where I could barely function.
And I’d come to the conclusion that I couldn’t give less of a fuck about Bayne Green.
In fact, often times, I’d considered suing his estate.
But then I remembered that they’d gotten me the best care imaginable, and I controlled my temper.
“What do you think is wrong with your truck?” I asked.
She scrubbed at her face. “It’s less than a year old, and it’s been in the shop more time than I’ve had it. They say there’s nothing wrong with the truck itself, but I’m telling you there is. There’s all these annoying rattles inside the cab. I have a fuckin’ donut wrapper stuffed in the dash to prevent the damn thing from rattling too bad. But that’s not even the worst part. It literally sucks gasoline down like it’s life. I get a whopping seven miles to the gallon, Jasper. And I drive the speed limit everywhere because I don’t like dealing with the damn cops. Trust me when I say, I drive like a damn grandma and that gas mileage should be fucking phenomenal.”
I’d seen her drive.
And I did agree, she drove a lot better than she used to.
“And what do they say about the gas mileage?” I grumbled, angry to hear that the dealership had been dicking her around.
“Just that it’s my imagination, and I probably don’t drive it like I think I do,” she murmured, once again looking out the window.
It was then I realized that she was looking at all the Christmas lights that we were passing.
On a whim, I turned left instead of right, taking her the back way back to the shop, knowing that there was a really good Christmas light display this way. In fact, the entire neighborhood had tried to follow suit, but there was no competing with a footballer that played for the local team that had millions to blow.
I wasn’t surprised to see a steady line of cars coming out of the street, either.
I still turned down the road, and I still waited as everyone got their fill of the lights as they passed.
I only knew about this place because my buddy, the actual footballer in question, had asked me to help him set up his security system.
I’d been in the process of checking everything out for him, double-checking that everything was perfect, when the light people had shown up the first year he’d been in town.
I’d been amazed that in the two days that it’d taken me to help him set up the security system, they’d transformed his entire place into a winter wonderland.
Then again, I guess that was what you got for paying an assload. Instant gratification.
Calli’s breath hitched, and I knew that she was finally able to see the lights.
“Oh, my gosh,” she breathed. “This is what I want my place to look like.”
“You’re telling me the eight thousand blow ups in your yard aren’t what you want?”
She snickered. “Not really. But when they’re cheap, they will do.”
Her decorations were cheap.
At least my wooden decorations were something that was going to last me past this year.
Her Temu purchases wouldn’t make it past this season.
The only reason I’d started decorating was that I’d seen her start to eye me when I put my shit out, as if she was angry that I’d deigned to decorate my own yard.
On a whim, I’d bought something else and put it out just to see her reaction.
The next day, she’d come out with two extra blow ups.
My sister really got a kick out of our yard war.
