Page 27 of Crossfire

“Do you know Ivy’s last name?” I asked.

“No,” the guy said. “Just know her name is Ivy. And it was kind of you—to stick up for her when that asshole manhandled her.”

I nodded. “Well, thank you. Maybe I’ll stop in here tomorrow if I have time.”

I’ll make time, of course.

“Today wasn’t her normal time slot,” he warned. “She’s usually here in the mornings.”

Based on the papers all over this table, this guy used this coffee shop as his office. Probably an annoyance to other customers. Hopefully an annoyance to the redhead.

“Well, thank you again,” I said.

As I walked away, I silently catalogued what I knew.

Ivy. A regular at a coffee shop.

I was getting somewhere. Tomorrow, I’d come back and get her full name. Even if it meant stealing her wallet to get it.

“Oh, and, sir?” the guy called out to me.

I turned.

“Be warned.” He raised an eyebrow. “That meathead? He’s a regular, too. And he comes in at the same time she does.”

My lips curled up on one side.Well, this will be interesting.

13

IVY

“You’ve taken this too far, Ivy.” Towering a couple of inches above me, Mom carried her height with an air of authority. Her blonde hair cascaded to her shoulders in effortless waves, framing her high cheekbones, giving her the aura of an aging model. Despite the elegance she exuded, the moment was tainted with a tone of disappointment weaving through her words.

If only I’d cleaned up the small coffee table in the center of the room. Mom’s attention settled on the avalanche of bills and paperwork, notebooks where I’d jotted down every failed idea I’d had to try to save Grams from this mess.

I took a seat on my living room couch, pressing my fingers to my temples. Just down the hall was the tub that offered my aching body a heavenly escape of warmth and comfort, but Mom had intercepted me, waiting on my front stoop for me to come home, forcing me to rehash the day’s events.

“It is not your responsibility to pay Grams’s bills,” she continued.

She was trying to keep her voice gentle, but this was the last thing I needed today.

A better person would feel nothing but grateful at a time like this. After all, I’d survived a violent attack. But the battle in the garage had fractured parts of my soul, leaving me in an abyss of uncertainty with no hope. Of finding the money so Grams wouldn’t be forced to leave the only home she had left. Of finding answers to why Dad ended his life…

My mind drifted back to that fateful day.

Each step toward Dad’s door felt like wading through concrete, guilt anchoring my body down. Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized how harsh I had been, and looking back, Dad needed a hug, not a lecture.

Bam.

My heart dropped to my stomach, adrenaline rocketed needles through my fingertips, and my feet became immediately paralyzed.

I’d never heard that sound before, not outside of television or the movies, so how could I be so certain of what it was?

Maybe it was a car backfiring…or an out-of-season firework.

I swallowed, my heart racing in my chest so fast, I worried I might pass out because it sounded like it came from…

No.

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