Page 117 of Downpour

“You have to decide if you want to be a part of it or not,” CJ said. “Because if you’re in, that means we get to help you. If someone breaks into your house, you call us because you know we’ll be there.”

My jaw throbbed from clenching my teeth together.

Becks’s eyes fell on mine. “We don’t think you’re being a dick because of your injury. You’re being a dick because you’re a prideful son of a bitch. You were that way before you needed to use a wheelchair.”

“Brooke doesn’t care about what you can and can’t do,” Christian said. “I see it in her. But she should care about you losing your shit on her.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t sign up for this little intervention today. “Easy for you to say.”

Nate hunched forward. “Downpours happen. You either drown in it or grow after it.”

“You owe her an apology,” Dad said. “Your momma and I raised you better than how you’re acting.”

I already had that part ready. I just needed to get her to talk to me.

“A good one,” Cassandra said. “Or I’ll kill you myself.”

“Please,” I grumbled. “You just talk a big game.”

Cass rocketed out of her chair. “Wanna try me? You mess with my little sunflower, and I’ll?—”

Christian caught her around the waist and pulled her against his chest. “Settle down, princess. I think he’s had his fair share of crow for the day.”

Becks snickered behind the balled fist she pressed to her mouth. “What’s your plan, Ray? If you need a woman’s point of view, you know where to find us.”

I tipped my head at Cass. “I don’t think I want hers.”

The group snickered.

Sighing, I said, “I’m working on it. I’m… I’m gonna make it right. I just have to find her a job, then find her so I can fire her.”

That seemed to appease the mob. They shared brief nods.

“Start with the apology,” Cass said. “I’ll handle the job.”

The door to the office creaked, and a shadow dashed away outside.

I looked at Christian. “Where are your girls?”

“At a friend’s house.”

Shit.

28

BROOKE

My stomach felt like an anvil as I walked from Claire’s house back to Ray’s.

I couldn’t sleep after the break-in. I was scared and shaken. What if the person returned?

But Ray had banished me to his room.

When dawn broke, I slipped out and went up to his mom’s house. I clung to threads of hope that her open-ended invitation to bake together was genuine. I wanted to be anywhere but Ray’s house. And as much as I wanted to be near him, I needed space.

The anger that flashed in his eyes during the break-in haunted me. I understood being scared. I was scared. But he wasn’t angry at the burglar. He was furious with me.

Claire met me at the door, as if she was already expecting me. She didn’t pester or prod, just led me to the kitchen and handed me an apron.

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