Page 90 of A Stop in Time

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Page 90 of A Stop in Time

“I’m Mac, and I own the—”

“Salvage yard,” the girl finishes quickly, then blushes. “I think it’s awesome you know so much about cars.”

Mac hesitates, and I wonder if the compliment made her uncomfortable. “I don’t need anybody full-time, but I do need some part-time help organizing inventory, bookkeeping, and stuff like that. Are you familiar with my place?”

The girl nods so fast I half expect her to get a case of whiplash. “I sure am, yes, ma’am.”

“I can pay minimum wage for now. After-school hours. Would that work?”

Again with the nodding. “Yes, ma’am, that’s perfect.”

“Good. Why don’t you come by after school tomorrow, and we’ll go over everything.”

The birth of a hopeful smile forms on the girl’s face. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll be there right after school. Thank you so much.”

Mac nods. “No problem. See you tomorrow.”

The girl casts another grateful smile at Mac before practically skipping away. I eye the woman beside me as we resume walking.

“Don’t.” Her words are edged in steel, but I know what she’s doing.

She doesn’t want me to acknowledge she’s got a heart buried beneath all those prickly layers. And, yeah, a part of me wants to ignore it, too, because I don’t need another reason to like her. I don’t want to know she’s the kind of person I would’ve given anything to find when I’d been in Annalee’s shoes, but much younger.

There’s more to it than that, though. Her upper body’s rigid as hell, like she’s carrying a huge invisible weight on her narrow shoulders. Something’s eating away at her and it isn’t until we get back to her place that I decide to address it.

She casts out a dismissive, “Bye,” before climbing the stairs to her place. Once she reaches the threshold, she unlocks her door and opens it.

When she realizes I’m trailing her, her spine stiffens, and she turns. “I’m calling it a day, so you’re free to— What the hell?!” I sidestep her and venture inside, waiting for her to follow me.

Her glare could probably have other men shaking in their shoes, but I know something’s up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Her response is fast, tone clipped.

I advance on her and shove the door closed behind her. She retreats a step before her back encounters it.

Anger enflames her eyes. “Nothing aside from the uninvited guest who’s barged right into my home.”

“Stop lyin’ to me.” My voice is low, raspy with demand. “Somethin’s botherin’ you. Been like that since the library.”

“Why do you fucking care?” She suddenly explodes. “I’m nothing to you! Nothing! You’re only here because of your sister!” She runs out of steam, her voice wavering at the end. “Just…leave me alone.”

She shoves past me, making it two steps before I cinch her upper arm in my hold. Tugging her back around to face me, I lower my head, our stormy glares colliding.

“You wanna know why I care?” My tone is harsh and unyielding. “Because even though I don’t trust you, it fuckin’ grates on my last goddamn nerve if I know somethin’s botherin’ you. Because I need to know you’re safe and you’re okay!”

“Well, I’m not okay!” Her voice rises incrementally. “I just realized I’m a goddamn murderer!”

43

MAC

Holy shit, I didn’t mean to say it out loud.

I suppose I can blame it on feeling compelled to divulge it, because he’s the closest thing I have to a…well, a friend.

And even that’s a big damn stretch.




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