Page 74 of For the Record
“No, and I won’t pry. Sawyer is … like an onion, okay? I’ve gotta peel layers back one at a time. You don’t just stab into the middle of an onion and expect it to still thrive. It’ll wither quicker, and that’s definitely not what I want to happen with our relationship.”
Abi’s answering smile was soft, contemplative. “That has to be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard you say. When did you become such a relationship expert?”
“I’m not.” Coy shrugged and flashed a grin. “I just know Sawyer.”
Driving the McLaren—really driving it, not just up and down the block where her shop was—was a fantasy come to life for Coy. She probably shouldn’t have passengers in it since she was technically working, but she had to show off the car at least once before Sawyer came to claim it. What she did with it then, Coy could only guess. For all she knew, Olivier had put it in his will that she sell it or gift it to Bree. But that didn’t make sense either, considering Sawyer’s explosion the day she’d seen her daughter in the car.
After dropping Abi off at the office, Coy continued on to Richmond, pleased as punch anytime someone gawked at her during a red light. So what if she’d dressed her best this morning, just so she looked like she could really own a beauty like the McLaren? She fully expected her pops to shake his head when he saw her, and the man did not disappoint.
“You’re too much, Coy,” Greg laughed when she pulled up beside him in the parking lot.
“Just enough, Pops, just enough,” Coy joked and continued past the main shop to her shop in the back parking lot. She wanted to fix the alignment again and tighten the brakes before she delivered it to Sawyer, but there was still time. Today, she had to repair a sedan that had recently been in a fender bender and also help her dad in the main shop. Hopefully, her role as an auto body technician would eventually garner enough clientele that they could hire another mechanic.
Parking the McLaren off to the side of her shop, Coy pocketed the keys and returned to where Greg was waiting. They, along with Chip and J.D., worked steadily all morning. It wasn’t until Coy checked her phone during her lunch break that she saw Bree’s text message.
Bree: Maman got your flowers … it’s not a good day for that. I’m sorry.
Bree: I wish I could explain things, but it’s not my place.
Bree: We were baking and she just grabbed her keys and left. Maybe she went to see him :(
“What’s going on?” Coy muttered, taking another bite of sandwich as she pulled up Sawyer’s contact info and pressed the call button. It rang and rang before finally going to voicemail. An odd churning sensation began low in Coy’s stomach, and she quickly reread Bree’s last message. Who was “him?” Had she meant Olivier’s gravesite? And how could a bouquet of roses set Sawyer off?
J.D. burst into Greg’s office, his gaze sliding past Coy’s to her father’s. “Ah, Uncle? You might wanna turn that on,” he rushed out, pointing to the surveillance monitor in the corner of Greg’s cramped office.
“It still works?” Coy wondered, stuffing another bite into her mouth. She needed to reach Sawyer and figure this mess out. How was it possible to vibe with someone so well one day and feel completely disconnected the next?
“There!” J.D. exclaimed, tapping the camera image that faced the back parking lot and Coy’s shop. “Someone’s out there fucking up the McLaren.”
“What?” Coy dropped her sandwich on the office desk and jumped from her seat to take a closer look. “Holy fuck.” The image was grainy, but she’d recognize the woman anywhere. She bolted for the door, shouting over her shoulder as she went, “Turn the camera off. And Pops, block off the lot so no one can get up there.”
She only had one thought as she raced from the shop and into the pouring rain.
Sawyer.
Chapter 39
McCoy
She reached Sawyer justas the tire iron came down like a whip against the brand new windshield.
CRACK!
“Sawyer, what the hell?” Coy cried, swiping raindrops out of her vision and wincing when the tool connected once more. An audible moan escaped as she took in the damage to the windshield, side mirrors, and spoiler. A large kitchen chopping knife protruded from one of the rear tires, the others already left with jagged tears down their middle. So much work, wasted. All those hours she’d spent—
A flash of red splattering onto the already wet pavement caught her eye, and she grabbed Sawyer’s arm. “Stop, you’re bleeding.”
“Calisse, McCoy. Let go of me.” Sawyer’s eyes flashed wildly, her gaze the stormiest gray Coy had seen yet. “I need this.”
“Okay,” Coy whispered, looking around them. Her pulse was so erratic she actually worried she’d pass out, but she forced her head to move in a tremulous nod. “Okay, sweetheart.”
Sawyer didn’t seem to hear her as she was already beating the shit out of the McLaren again. Coy had to dosomethingto help, if not for the logical reasoning that Sawyer simply wasn’t strong enough to do much more than dent the carbon fiber doors.
“Fuck,” she took off toward her shop, pulling out her keys as she went. Once inside, she quickly retrieved her sledgehammer, hoisting it over her shoulder, and running back out to Sawyer.I can’t believe I’m about to do this,she thought incredulously and swung the sledgehammer into the car door like a baseball bat.
“McCoy,” Sawyer choked out. Droplets of rain and tears had streaked her makeup, creating thin black lines that ran down her cheeks and into her open mouth. A pain so deep, so profound that it should have been immobilizing crossed her features. Coy sucked in a breath, her own heart squeezing as she took in her girlfriend’s desperate plea for help.
“I told you before,” she forced out, blinking past the threatening tears. Raising the sledgehammer again, she added thickly, “I’ll do anything you want. I’d do anything for you.”