Page 60 of See It Through

“How in the world did you convince Hannah to let you drive tonight?” he asked Phoebe.

Phoebe shrugged. “It wasn’t hard considering her truck’s in the shop and I’m not going to let her get behind the wheel of Greta.”

Lily clucked her tongue. “I still disagree with you naming your vehicle Greta. If anything, she’s a Maryanne.”

Phoebe’s nose scrunched at her grandmother. “Greta is definitely not a Maryanne.”

Lock stared down the table at Hannah. “What’s going on with the truck?”

Hannah stiffened next to me before blurting out a half-truth. “It needed new tires. I was overdue.”

If she felt me boring a hole in the side of her head, she didn’t react. I didn’t agree with keeping what happened a secret from her family. If Cleve or someone else was out to get her, they needed to know. The more people who were aware of the situation, the safer she would be.

Lock scratched his jaw. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you replace your tires less than six months ago?”

Hannah’s shoulders bunched. “It must’ve been longer than that. I—”

If she wasn’t going to tell them, it had to be me. She could be pissed at me for doing it, but I’d rather her be safe and angry than…yeah, I wasn’t going to think about the alternative.

“Her tires were slashed on Friday when she was out at Jacob’s ranch. We think Cleve Jones did it.”

Color rose on Lock’s face as a flurry of exclamations went around the table. His eyes darkened, locking onto me.

“Why do you think it was Cleve?” he asked tightly.

Hannah shook her head. “I’m handling this. You don’t need to worry.”

“Why would you not tell us?” Elena breathed out. “Why—?”

Lock put his hand on her arm, taking over the questioning. “You think it was Cleve, which leads me to believe this wasn’t the first incident. I am going to need you to be honest with me, Hannah. We don’t hide things in this family—not when it comes to personal safety.”

Hannah shifted uncomfortably, moving her fork around on the table. “For a while now, he’s been trying to poach my clients. That’s not a big deal. I can handle it—and his comments.”

“What kind of comments?” Caleb barked.

She held up her hand. “I said I can handle it.”

I squeezed her thigh. “Tell them what he did on the road.”

“What did he do?” Lock asked lowly.

Hannah flicked her hand like what she was about to tell them was no big deal, but the quiver in her chin gave her away. “I was driving down Happy Jack Road, and he came up behind me. Got right on my bumper and wouldn’t let up. This went on for miles, him on my ass, no one around. I admit, it scared me, especially because I didn’t know it was him. I thought he was going to push me off the road. He finally moved past me, laughing his head off like it was all a big joke.”

After a beat of silence, Caleb asked gruffly, “You go to the cops?”

She nodded. “I did. I went about my tires too. They have no proof. All they could do was talk to him.”

Lock shoved back from the table, murder burning in his gaze. “This won’t stand. It’s obvious he wasn’t spoken to in the right way.”

Caleb rose with his father. “I’m going too.”

Cormac was next. “I need to see his face when he hears what’ll happen to him if he doesn’t back off.”

Hannah hopped to her feet, her napkin balled in her fist. “Absolutely not. You’re not going after Cleve Jones.”

It was obvious to me they’d made their minds up and nothing Hannah could say would stop them. The three men were already heading toward the door.

There was also no way I wasn’t going with them.