“What happened?” she asked.
“I don’t think you want the gory details,” Mia said.
“That bad?”
“Like, no head bad.”
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered.
I adored Mia. She was cool as fuck, but she’d never had a filter and that often got her into trouble. She was not the person you looked to for comfort in a difficult situation for that very reason. But if you wanted the truth, and wanted it from someone who truly cared about you, she was your woman.
Mia let out a frustrated squeak. “Sorry, Mom. Seriously, I’m two glasses into this bottle.”
“It’s okay, honey. I think I might join you.” She headed to the kitchen and returned with a wine glass, and poured wine into it. “The only good thing about this situation is that Pumpkin was really old and had been diagnosed with cancer. She didn’t have very long to live anyway. Where’s Harmony?”
“With the recent developments, I think it’s best I keep Harmony somewhere close to me,” I said.
“I’m so sorry we couldn’t keep her safe, honey,” Wendy said.
“Don’t say that, Wendy,” I countered. “You’ve been amazing. I’m more concerned about you guys getting caught in the fray, so if I keep Harmony isolated a bit, I can protect everyone.”
“Well, you are both welcome anytime.”
“Thank you. I will get your key back to you tomorrow.”
“No rush, honey.”
I rose to my feet. “I should get back.”
“Don’t be a stranger,” Mia said.
I chuckled. “Hey, Pot, I’m Kettle.”
“Touché.”
“Call me next time you’re in Portland, okay?” I said. “I bet Cass misses you as well.”
“I’ll do that,” she promised.
“Lock up behind me, okay?”
Wendy nodded and followed me to the door, hugging me, then locking the door as I headed to my truck.
I spent ten minutes driving through our little town in case anyone was following me, then made my way back to the barn when I was sure I was clear. I parked inside and locked the double doors before climbing the stairs to the apartment and letting myself inside.
“Harmony? It’s me.”
I heard a quiet squeak, and turned the light on just as Harmony peeked out from the hall closet, a baseball bat in her hand. “You scared me to death.”
I grimaced. “Sorry.”
She set the bat back into the closet and closed the door, nodding toward me. “What’s that?”
“Guitar.”
She closed the distance between us. “You ran home to get it?”
“No, it was in my truck, so I figured you owed me a song.”
