Page 12 of I Can't Even

“Are we going to ever discuss this?” Hollis asked. “Every time I hear about this mysterious Tobin, or his batshit wife, y’all always have this inside joke laugh that’s kind of annoying.”

I grinned.

“Tobin married Crissa after Ande broke his heart,” Quincy explained. “Crissa hates anything that even remotely resembles Ande or her family. Crissa has declared that we’re persona non grata with Tobin, and sweet little introverted Tobin tells her to fuck off when it comes to his family.”

“Crissa sounds toxic.”

“Crissa is toxic.”

We all turned as one toward the door of the house and there, standing as if he hadn’t just walked into a bashing of his wife, was my best friend.

I got up and walked his way.

“Tobin!” I crowed, throwing my arms around him in a manly best friend hug.

Tobin chuckled, returning the hug.

Seconds later he stepped back and narrowed his eyes at my foot. “You look like you can walk again.”

I winced. “I can walk again.”

“It was touch or go there for a minute,” Mom said as she walked up to Tobin and gave him a hug. “When he tore his Achilles tendon during that foot chase, and I watched him go down on live TV, I thought he’d been shot. It broke my mother heart, and it still hasn’t recovered.”

I winced.

Six months ago, I’d been in a foot chase from hell. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.

It’d started out with the man I’d pulled over taking off, simultaneously running over my foot in the process. It’d ended with me and him in a foot chase across a pasture that was so goddamn bumpy I’d mis-stepped and twisted wrong, causing my Achilles tendon to snap like a matchstick.

Luckily, Garrett and his canine officer, Boss, had just arrived on scene.

Boss took the perp down within seconds, and I lay in the middle of a muddy field and cried like a damn baby.

“What are you doing here?” Dad asked as he got a hug of his own.

The smile slid off of Tobin’s face.

“I’m here because we have reason to believe that a serial killer has set up shop here, targeting women with brown hair and blue eyes.”

The immediate mental image of Ellodie popped up in my head.

“And funny enough, the woman you were all over the news with yesterday is one of my targets.”

God. Dammit.

One minute you’re young and free and the next minute you’re super excited about the grocery pickup order you just placed having no substitutions or out of stock items.

—Ellodie to her mom

ELLODIE

“Ellodie!” a male voice, sounding impatient and put out, called out to me from the other side of the curtain.

I came out of the gang banger’s room, my heart racing, nervous that I’d been caught.

“Follow me, Ellodie.”

I nearly groaned.

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