Page 77 of Embody

Twenty-Five

JT

“CALL UNCLE SAWYER.” I command my Sync system to make the call and drum my fingers on the steering wheel, internally cussing the traffic as I wait for him to answer.

“Mini me, what’s up?” His greeting echoes through my car in the only volume he has—deafening.

“Nothing, just missed the sound of your dainty voice. Doctors have any idea when your balls are finally gonna drop? Be nice to be able to tell you apart from Aunt Emmett.”

“Don’t make me send my daughter to kick your ass, boy,” he laughs.

“Whatever. Seriously though, need your advice.”

“Silicone-based lube, definitely. That water-based shit’s like trying to fuck your way down a Slip-n-Slide.” Sadly, yet not remotely surprising, he’s serious.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. Now for mysecondquestion.” I roll my eyes—because his ass is crazy, yes—but mainly because I’m stuck at least three rounds of changes deep at a damn stoplight.

Which only hammers home the reason I’m calling my uncle harder. My sweet Bellamy is sitting, waiting for me, at a sketchy fucking bus stop. Probably perking up and smiling, only to slump back with a disappointed frown, when every approaching car turns outnotto be me.

“Bellamy needs a car,” I growl, still picturing her waiting, in the heat and her uniform that smells of stale grease, on the dirty, crowded bench.

“Lawd, here we go,” he laughs. “What do your parents say?”

“Nothing, I haven’t told them. Telling you. Saw, she rides forty-five minutes each way, every day, just to go work on her feet waiting tables or run around campus andthengo wait tables after. Sometimes she leaves homehoursbefore she needs to because of the damn bus schedule and carries her breakfast with her!”

“All right, simmer down. You’re screaming in my damn ear.” Says the man whose “inside” voice shatters eardrums.

“Sorry,” I inhale a sedating breath through my nose. “And we’re always missing each other, like right now. She got off work early, so she was gonna wait around for over an hour for the bus to run again ‘cause I was in a meeting and didn’t get her text. It’s just… crazy. Infuriating as fuck. I want to help her. She deserves better.”

“How long you been seeing this girl?” he asks.

“Bellamy. Her name is Bellamy,” my defensiveness surges out, unmistakable. “How long were you seeing, ortryingto see, Aunt Em when you got her a place, jobandcar?” I wince, not tamping down the accurate, but disrespectful, sarcasm in my tone enough.

“Okay,” he chuckles, “point taken. I have an idea, and your back,sorda. Your parents come at me wielding torches and pitchforks, telling ya upfront, I’m gonna act like I have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about. And you’re gonna go along with it. Actually, I need to go on record again as saying, you should discuss this with your parents.”

“Noted, andagain, no. Now what’s your idea?” I’m finally next at the light, so he needs to spit it out.

“That big ass Navigator you roll around in? I know it’s paid for, but is it in your name?”

“Yep.” I like the way his mind works…this time.

“Justyour name? No Daney (his age-old play on combining my parents’ names) as co-signer?”

“Nope, just me.”

“Thinkin’ that fancy motherfucker is worth about seventy grand. You could get two nice cars in place of it, dontcha figure?”

Fucking brilliant. Sawyer Beckett doesn’t get near enough credit for that kick-ass brain of his.

“You’re the man, Uncle Saw. Thank you.”

“Uh huh. And remember boy, I. Know. Nothing. You rat me out,” he laughs in the pitch of pure evil, “just don’t rat me out.”

“Never. You’re as scary and certifiably insane as you are helpfully ingenious. Thanks again, gotta go.”

I disconnect the call and rack my brain as to where the title to my car is, quickly losing all train of thought…because I see Bellamy.

She pops to her feet as I pull up, and her stunning smile, only for me? Yeah, I gotta find that title.

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