Fuck.Fuck, fuck, fuck. Kit told me herself—she’d do anything for Dr. Singh. If she feels responsible for him missing out on that kind of funding—it’d be terrible for her.I owe him everything, she’d told me.“Jesus Christ. I can’t believe you—”
“This guy, he’s clueless. Kept asking about what we’d be able to do for her, salary-wise, like he’s real worried about her? He didn’t even know she’d won the lottery.”
“What?” I shout this through the phone.“How the fuck do you know about that?” My heart is pounding. This conversation with Singh—if he’s gone to Kit with this, she must be devastated.
She must be done with me.
“It’s public record, bud. State law where you are, she had to disclose her identity to claim. There wasn’t much news about it, because the jackpot wasn’t all that big, but I found it.”
“Jasper, what the fuck. How could you do that?”
“Do what? I don’t know if he’ll take it, but he at least listened—I thought I might have him. But then he called me late yesterday and told me something had happened, that Kit would need some more time. He ought to take it—he’s not going to get the kind of funding we’re offering anywhere else, but he seems reluctant to lose her, so I guess you two have that in common, though—”
I cut him off before he can go anywhere else with that sentence.“I need to go.”
“Wait—”
“No.” I’m already in my bedroom, grabbing clothes out of a drawer.“You have no idea the shit you’ve buried me in, Jasper.”
“Tucker, come on. This was your idea.”
“This was my idea over a fuckingmonthago.I told you I was involved with her. I told you I wasn’t recruiting her anymore.”
“Well, I toldyou. You’re not the only one who can recruit.”
“You had me on the phone for two hours yesterday. You didn’t say a goddamn word. Tell me that’s not fucking shady, man.Tell me.” I shout this, slamming my fist against my dresser.
His pause is too long, and right now, I don’t give a shit what he has to say anyway so I hang up, immediately call Kit’s cell—voicemail. It’s the same at her office, and when I call the front office, the secretary tells me Kit’s not in. I quickly brush my teeth and pull on fresh clothes, then go out to the kitchen.“Dad,” I say,“Can you—?” I don’t even know where to start. The salvage yard is supposed to open in two hours. I can’t remember if River’s coming today. I don’t know if Sharon is working. Does Dad have PT today, or a doctor’s appointment? Everything I’ve been keeping straight in my head over the last weeks—it’s all gone to shit. I can only think of getting to her.
“I’m fine,” Dad says, his brow furrowed in concern.“I’ll call Sharon. You all right?”
“No,” I say.“I have to go, but I’ll call.” I pat his shoulder before leaving the house, driving to Kit’s as fast as I can. The whole time, all I can think about is everything that has been violated for Kit—her job, which she loves, the loyalty she has to Dr. Singh, the risk of having to leave this place, the privacy she guarded about her win.
I barely remember to shut off the truck when I pull up to her house.
The door opens before I’m even all the way up the steps.
“Zoe,” I breathe, and fuck, I wish it were Greer. Zoe looks as if she wants to slit me from neck to nuts.“I have to talk to her.”
“Oh, I’ll bet you do.”
“Is she here? Her phone is off, and there’s no answer at work. This was not me who did this, Zoe. This was not me.”
“Who was it?”
“It was my partner, he—”
“How did he know to go to her boss? How did he know that would work on her?” And yeah—it’s exactly what Jasper said. It’s because I fucking told him, when I’d still been keeping him in the loop about what I’d learned about Kit, when I’d still been lying to myself about why I wanted to be around her all the time, why I wanted to know so much about her. I have never hated myself more, and I’ve almost gone to prison, so that’s saying something.“You told her you wanted to be with her, that you loved her. Do you realize what she thinks?”
“It wasn’t about the job, Zoe. That wasneverabout the job. I swear to you. I need to see her.I’ll do anything for her.”
“You tried to justpushher. Right into the fucking fast lane,” Zoe says, and I have no idea what that even means, but at least she hasn’t slammed the door in my face yet. It’s Zoe and Greer who Kit wanted me to go to, before she’d even really listen to me about Beaumont, and somehow I know it’ll be Zoe and Greer who I’ll have to get through if I ever want to see her again.
“Please,” I say, and it’s almost a whisper, how it comes out.
She sends a long, assessing look down at me. I’m grateful to be on these steps below her. I’ll get on my knees if she wants me to, but there’s something in her expression, some whisper of familiarity or sympathy that makes me think Zoe’s been where I am. She’s had to beg for forgiveness too.“She had to leave town. Her dad—he’s not well.”
My mind empties of everything about Beaumont, about what I have to explain to Kit.“What happened?”
