Page 80 of The Red-Hot Stakes

I sprayed every inch of the gas can’s exterior with the polyurethane, then waited while it dried. After I’d received the coordinates, I’d been relieved to see how close Lake Michigan was. Our little state park was remote enough that I could destroy the evidence without detection.

If I was stopped, I planned to act casual. A college student with a backpack wasn’t suspicious. If someone investigated at the beach, I planned to say I was burning my ex-boyfriend’s things.

Which wasn’t a lie.

I managed to squeeze everything into the backpack before I went to the beach. Not a single car passed me on the road, though my heart pounded in my chest and my stomach twisted with each step. Finally, I made it across the parking lot to the sand, trudging over to a metal trash barrel out of view from anyone driving by.

The cool breeze whipped through me as I hastily pulled the matches and newspaper from the front pocket of the backpack. I took out the shoes before lowering the whole bag into the can. I grabbed the polyurethane, coating the bottoms of the shoes first then generously spraying the top. Both gasoline and polyurethane were highly flammable, so I had to be extra careful. The gas can felt empty, but I knew fumes were just as dangerous.

Twisting the newspaper into a long, thin rod, I lit one end on fire then the other. I tossed it into the garbage can, stepping back immediately. The whoosh of flames roared into the air, heating my skin and making me squint in its brightness. I shielded my eyes as I watched the flames eat away the incriminating evidence bit by bit until nothing remained but charred, unrecognizable lumps.

Exactly the way my heart felt.

* * * *

Back in my new room, I didn’t have the energy to unpack. Derek and Avery both called then texted, demanding explanations, but I had none. I lay on the firm bed, staring at the ceiling. Sally knocked on my door, asking if I wanted to join her for dinner, but I couldn’t muster an answer. Eventually she went away.

I drifted off to sleep at some point. When I woke up, the sun was mid-sky, and my phone said it was Saturday. I needed to find work, needed to get up and at least shower. Eat something. I managed to go to the bathroom and down a cup of water. Then I flopped back on the bed, the black hole within me ever expanding.

Sunday dawned, and that was all the wallowing I allowed myself. I forced my body out of bed, into the shower, and made myself wash. One foot into my pant leg, then the other. My teeth weren’t going to brush themselves.

I walked downstairs, pausing when I saw Sally pacing between the kitchen and living room. Her firm tone caught my attention first, then her words.

“You didn’t see her, Liam. You don’t know the half of what she’s going through, is all I’m saying. Whatever choice she had to make, the other option was worse.” She paused.

“I don’t know why she can’t just talk to you. All I’m saying is that girl is going through hell right now, pardon my French. And you’d do well not to just write her off.” More silence. “Well then, maybe I misjudged you.” She hung up, setting her phone hard on the table.

I sat down heavily on the landing as tears blurred my vision. I couldn’t believe she’d gone to bat for me, had even cared enough to make the phone call.

Sally hmphed, then caught a glimpse of me, and her angry expression softened to one of sympathy. “I tried, sugar, but he’s not ready to listen.”

“Thank you,” I croaked.

“I have some homemade chicken noodle soup that’ll cure just about anything. Come have a bowl with me.” It wasn’t a question, and she bustled off to the kitchen, not waiting for my answer.

I swiped at my cheeks, feeling not quite so alone in my little corner of the world. The soup was phenomenal, and I actually did feel a bit better after eating it. “I don’t suppose you know of any bars or restaurants hiring around here?”

“Actually, one of our regulars runs the bar a couple blocks over. He was just complaining about finding decent help. I’d be happy to walk over there, introduce you.”

“Thank you,” I said again. I had no idea how I’d ever repay this amazing lady, but I sure as hell was going to try.

By that evening, I had a job—one that would work around my classes and my upcoming vacation. It was a bit dingier than The High Five, with rougher clientele, but the other staff seemed nice enough. And money was money.

Monday morning, I made it through my first class no problem, only to be ambushed by Avery after my second. The angry line of her lips, the folded arms and her tapping toes told me I was in big trouble.

“At least yell at me over lunch.”

She fell into step beside me. “Aren’t you even going to try to explain?”

“What’s there to explain? It didn’t work out.”

Her jaw dropped. “Bullshit, Gina. That is the biggest line of bullshit I’ve heard come out of your mouth.”

The worst part was that she wasn’t wrong.

She didn’t pull any punches. “I saw how happy you were. I’ve never seen you like that! Ever! So, what happened?”

I clenched my jaw, working hard to keep everything from tumbling out. Only the blackmailer’s threat of someone getting hurt held me back. “I need to concentrate on my career. Now isn’t the time for a serious relationship.”

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