“You don’t know who did this.”
“I do. It’s your fuckstick ex, and I’m going to pay him a fucking visit.”
“You can’t know that.”
He stepped closer, and his voice dropped. “I can promise nobody’s gonna think they can fuck with you and walk away. Your ex is going to learn that lesson.”
I stared at him and for a second I almost felt bad for Bruce. Almost.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Josie
By seven-fifteen, I was counting down the minutes until I could lock the door.
Not because the day had been bad.
It hadn’t.
People still came in. Kids still pressed their faces against the glass. Parents still apologized for sticky fingers and then ordered extra sprinkles anyway. Scoop & Swirl was doing okay, even with the ugliness someone kept spraying across my windows like they had nothing better to do with their life.
But I was tired.
Tired in my bones.
Tired in my head.
Tired of smiling like everything was fine when part of me kept waiting for the next bad thing to happen.
I stood behind the counter with a bucket of warm water, washing scoops and lining them up on a clean towel. The shop was quiet except for the hum of the freezer and the faint sound of music playing from the little speaker tucked beneath the register.
One hour.
That was it.
One hour and I could close, lock the door, and let Rome take me home.
Or to his house.
Or across the street.
Honestly, at this point, anywhere Rome was sounded better than being alone.
The bell above the door dinged. I grabbed a towel and turned with my customer smile already in place.
Then I froze.
Brandi walked in like the floor beneath her boots offended her.
She had the same confidence she’d worn at the clubhouse, the kind that came with knowing men looked and not caring who saw. Her cut-off shorts barely covered anything, and her black tank top clung to her like it had been painted on. Her hair was curled, her makeup was heavy, and her smile was sharp enough to cut.
She wasn’t alone.
Another woman followed her in, all long dark hair, tight jeans, and a leather vest with no shirt underneath. She looked around Scoop & Swirl and wrinkled her nose like she’d accidentally wandered into a preschool.
Great. Exactly what I needed.
I set the towel down and forced myself to breathe. “Welcome to Scoop & Swirl,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “What can I get for you?”
