He gripes at Jared, “I’m trying to take your mom to Bermuda for the week and my display is lit up like a Christmas tree. What did you do?”
“Not a fucking oil change,” Jared barks back. “I’m not Jiffy Lube. Did you take it into the dealer and have it done a month ago like I told you?”
Mr. Caruthers shuts his mouth, just standing there.
I stifle my smile.
“Jesus Christ,” Jared growls, storming toward the door. Jason moves out of the way, letting his wife’s son barrel outside, toward their Bentley Continental GT.
Quinn and Jared’s mom Katherine steps out of the driver’s side, offering her son a little wince of apology. She’s dressed for the beach in a thin, white dress with a straw hat.
Jared climbs in the driver’s seat, turns on the car, and suddenly his face contorts into a cross between a bear and a disgusted schoolteacher. “Oh, what the f—!”
But he clamps it shut in front of his mom.
Quinn’s dad and I stand back, silent and not moving like we share a father who’s on a rampage and we’re trying not to be noticed.
“Son of a bitch,” Jared bites out, walking around and lifting the hood. “Three-hundred-thousand-dollar piece of shit is what you’re about to have.” A thread of smoke curls into the air from the engine. “Goddammit! Someone just shoot me in the head…”
Jason clears his throat, and I’m trying very hard not to laugh. Jax once gave Jared a book on “responding instead of reacting” and “accepting things he can’t change.” I wouldn’t be surprised if it was still sitting on the corner of Jared’s worktable in his home garage with two inches of dust on it.
I pull out the keys to my rental parked three spaces away and hand them to Jason. “Take mine.”
He eyes me. “Are you sure?”
I nod. He can return the car to the rental place; otherwise, I would’ve had to call them to come pick it up.
“Thank you,” he says.
I give him instructions on turning in the car, grab my shit out of it, and climb in Jared’s Boss as Jason flies out of the parking lot in my rental with his wife.
“I’ll see you soon!” I call out to Jared, who’s still buried under the hood.
He doesn’t reply, and I’m fine with that. Best to get out of his way while I can.
I drive off, still relieved that Jared didn’t ask any questions. With luck, Madoc will find out through him and have time to process before we talk. There’s a lot to figure out. Do I want to cancel the sale of the house?
I don’t think so. I don’t know how long I’m home, and I don’t want to pull the rug out from under Quinn. I like the idea of staying someplace else while I’m here. A newview.
Then, there’s the issue of work. I’ll need something to do, but I’m not sure I want to commute to Chicago.
And Green Street…
Lots to tend to.
After showering and changing at my house, I leave through my door for the last time and plan to go to a hotel. I could stay with Madoc and Fallon, but I’d like privacy right now. And I don’t want them involved in what I have to deal with.
Stopping at City Hall, I dig up a map of Lake Road and make a call to Isobel to tell her I’ll be away a little while longer. What I can’t handle remotely, she or one of my partners will.
I walk out to my car at the curb and start to open the door, but I look up and spot Madoc’s SUV pulling into the side lot. He exits the vehicle, carrying his briefcase to the walkway as his car beeps locked behind him.
But he sees me and slows. Recognition dawns, a slight smile crossing his face, and to my surprise, he doesn’t explode with questions and excitement.
As if he had an idea he’d see me again soon.
“Workout tonight?” I call to him.
I’ll need to be ready for Green Street, because once they know I’m still here, they’ll act.
