They’re right.
I still like her. Despite not trusting her, despite planning on doing exactly what she doesn’t want me to do, despite notwantingto like her, I do.
Zen sighs. “Uncle Grey, you ever consider that vengeance doesn’t suit you?”
I’ve disliked that word more with every passing minute, and not just for the knot that’s been growing in my stomach all day. Could I open a kombucha bar somewhere else?
Yep.
But it wouldn’t hurt Chandler Sullivan if I did that, now would it? “Or maybe beingSuper Vengeance Manisn’t supposed to be easy.”
They crack up. “Inside with you. Time for a shower, clean clothes, and food. And then I’ll show you the super cool puzzle I got you withmycredit card last month.”
A new puzzle should make me happy. I’ve given up contemplating new fields of research that might interest me and let my mind engage in puzzles instead since I found out what Vince did, and so far, it’s working.
Tonight though?
Tonight, Zen might be right.
I might not be cut out for vengeance.
Should be a good thing, right? Means I’m not like my family.
Just this once, I wanted to be the badass asshole getting justice.
But as I cast one last glance at Sabrina’s front door, all I can think is that this isn’t nearly as straightforward and easy as it should be.
8
Sabrina
I arrivefifteen minutes before my eight a.m. shift is scheduled to begin at Bean & Nugget and use the spare time to sit in the backseat of my car with Jitter and check my text messages while I finish the travel mug of coffee I brought along.
Nothing from Emma. For once, I don’t know what to say to start a conversation.
If she’d broken up with anyone else, under any other circumstances, I would’ve camped out at her house with wine and chocolate and sourdough from the bakery at the other end of Main Street. Laney would’ve been there with a custom dartboard printed with Emma’s new ex’s face.
Instead, I’m staring at a text from Laney telling me that Emma’s back and camping out at Theo’s old place on their dad’s property just outside of town, and that she’s requested that she not have company.
Anycompany.
Or that anyone else is told where she is.
Laney adds that it’s because she’s feeling super vulnerable after being the subject of a massive viral video at such a horrible time, but naturally, paranoia, guilt, and anxiety make me wonder if that’s all it is.
And how much she might blame me for the video having to happen at all.
I’d still bring wine and chocolates and bread, even if she wanted to yell at me and cry, if it meant we could work it out.
I move on to the next text message thread. I need something else to concentrate on if I’m going to successfully get through today. The Mercedes isn’t in the parking lot, but that means virtually nothing considering I watched Zen take it out solo last evening after we had all retreated to our respective townhomes.
Decker apparently hasn’t slept since we all left Silver Horn early last evening. I have a string of texts from him at various intervals all night indicating he was diving deep into everything he could find on Greyson Cartwright.
Decker probably does have writer’s block if that’s what he was doing all night.
Poor guy. I should send him some Writer’s Tears whiskey.
But his brothers have likely beat me to it.
