Page 30 of Taking Root

Chapter Fifteen

Sweat dripped down Danny’s forehead as she plunged a spade in the ground, trying to loosen the earth and pull the stubborn weeds that managed to get a foothold. She reached down and took a swig from her water bottle, adding a few more dirt smudges to the exterior. Three days had passed since she’d walked out on Adrian, and she still struggled to hydrate after the spectacular amounts of gin she’d downed.

Once she’d left the Gin Mill with what’s-his-name, Danny had gotten cold feet, but before she could communicate her changed decision, her body did the talking instead. By way of projectile puking. Right onto his JoS. A. Bank suit. He’d muttered an excuse and bolted, leaving her to stumble her way home by her lonesome.

Still, she was grateful. Even if she couldn’t be with Adrian, she’d been running on grief and liquor and would’ve regretted fumbling in a back alley with some stranger.

She slammed the spade into the earth a little harder before grabbing the weed and yanking the tangled roots from the ground. That was her right now, some dandelion appearing in places, unwanted, and every time she tried to set down roots, she got torn from the earth. What made it worse were the texts Adrian sent, considerate to the core. Every fiber in her begged to go running to his house, to crash into his arms, lose herself in his warmth, and tell him everything.

Except that was against the rules.

Her phone buzzed, and she slipped her gloves off before pulling it out. Her heart twisted, hoping Adrian texted all while hoping it was anyone else. God, his presence branded her bones, an addiction she had never conquered. For that man, she’d thrown out caution, responsibilities, and her rules. Not like anything could have ever blossomed from the tempest brewing between them.

Danny frowned when she caught sight of who called. “I’m at work. What’s going on?” she asked.

“Meet us at McDermitt’s tonight,” Eve said in her usual perfunctory tone. “We have to start planning your escape routes.”

Her stomach plummeted. “I’ll be there,” she responded, clicking the phone shut without another word. Not like Eve or the other Feds would be waiting around to offer any consolation or the heart-to-hearts she craved.

A shadow appeared from the back of the house, lengthening along the grass.

Danny grabbed her spade tight and rose from the ground. Her heart stammered in her chest, and the adrenaline descended like that seventh cup of coffee.

Camilla slunk around the corner, her slim black uniform stained with flour from whatever she’d been baking. Danny let slip a gasp of relief, even though her pulse thundered.

“I’ve been looking all over the yard for you,” Cam called out as she approached. “How you manage this menace is beyond me.”

Danny scratched the nape of her neck, a little tender from the amount of sun she’d gotten today. No matter how often she spent outside, she accumulated freckles rather than tan. Cam hadn’t been around in the past few days, and after Danny’s gin extravaganza, she hadn’t been in a reaching out mood.

“What’s up?” Danny asked, keeping her tone light and casual.

“You, that’s what.” Cam tipped a finger in her direction. “Don’t think you’re getting out of talking about your random call the other night. I know for a fact you were supposed to be hanging with your boyfriend. Don’t you remember the convo we had earlier?”

Danny flinched at the term boyfriend. Shit. She forgot about sharing the details with Cam. The woman was so easy to talk to she ended up blathering on about anything that leapt into her mind—apart from the past, of course.

“Oh, that,” Danny responded, crouching to the ground again to continue tugging out the bull thistle and ragweed determined to ruin her garden. “I walked out on Adrian.” The brief flash of hurt and the haunted way he looked at her made bile rise in her throat. She stared at the grass like she’d set it on fire, focusing on tugging more wayward roots from the mulch.

“What did he do?” Cam asked, crouching beside her.

Danny looked at her, unable to stave off the stinging in her eyes. “Nah, he didn’t do anything. I’m just so fucked up I can’t share and care like a normal person in a healthy relationship. It was for the best.”

Cam cocked an eyebrow at her, her crimson lips pursed in disbelief. Unlike Danny who got lazy on the makeup, Cam’s brows were sculpted, and if she didn’t wear her favorite shade of red, steer clear. Cam flicked her in the arm. “None of that talking down on yourself shit. The relationship must’ve been moving faster than you were ready for. You seemed to care about him, though. Is it worth running away from?”

Danny’s throat tightened. If only she knew. Running wasn’t a choice for her but a way of life, thanks to Kyle the Homicidal Maniac.

She gave a half-hearted shrug. “I never know how long I’ll be in an area, so what’s the use in trying for anything long term?”

Cam cocked her head to the side but didn’t push, and for that, Danny was grateful.

“Well, look,” she said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you on Saturday night when it all went down, but I want you to know you can always, always call me.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded-over napkin. “I smuggled this out for you, since the extra sugar won’t sweeten Natalie’s temper anyway. If you want to talk more later or grab drinks, you’ve got my number.”

Cam pushed herself up and dusted off her pants before sauntering toward the back of the house so no one noticed her missing. Danny opened the napkin to find a rich, dense brownie nestled inside, still warm and gooey. Her mouth watered just looking at it. Her eyes stung, and she let the couple of drops slide down her cheeks as she stared at this gift. She had made friends hundreds of times before, enough to understand how rare people like Cam and Adrian were, ones who showed their care and spent the time to check-in.

No matter how many cities she lived in, her heart had always remained in Charleston.

***

Walking anywhere alone normally set Danny on edge, but now with her father so close to the city, every shadow caused her to reach for her pistol instead of pepper spray. Part of her wished he wouldn’t appear. After all, she’d long since given up hope the Feds would catch him, and at least then she’d be allowed to linger a little longer.

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