Page 75 of Indigo Sky

"My parents got divorced when I was twelve. My mom was fucking around behind Dad's back for … who knows how long with who the hell knows how many men, including a few of my dad’s friends … and then she decided she wanted to move in with her boyfriend in Arizona."

"Jesus," I grumbled. "That’s … God, that's horrible."

"Yeah," Kate muttered, bitterness heavy in her tone. "My sisters went with her."

That was the part that startled me the most, and I diverted my attention from her car long enough to turn to her, shocked. "You have sisters?"

"Yep, two little sisters," she said, frowning. "The day my mom left, she told Dad they were never his to begin with. So … they all left."

I smoothed my hand over my hair, brushing the strands off of my forehead. "Holy fuck, Kate …"

She blew out a breath and stood up taller as she shrugged with nonchalance. "Anyway, so that's my sob story. That's why I'm still here, working my ass off. That's why I haven’t stopped doing this. I enjoy it, so that's something. It's better than sitting behind a desk, staring at a computer screen all day, although I assume I'll be doing that at some point when—what is that?"

There was more I wanted to say—this conversation wasn't over—but my attention was snagged away from the topic to the sight of her car beneath the lamppost.

I pulled away from her grasp on my arm and hurried ahead, turning in a circle as I went to survey the lot around us. Sam had left; nobody else was there. We were alone. But someone had been there. There was no telling who without watching surveillance camera footage, but whoever it was had covered the driver's window in shaving cream and writtenWHOREin the center.

Rage surged through my chest, pumping hot blood through my veins. My face heated; my fists clenched. I turned again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the asshole who had done this. But there was no one. We were alone.

"I don't get it," Kate whispered from beside me, her thumbnail wedged between her teeth. "I don't understand."

"We have to get out of here," I said, wrapping my hand around her arm and beginning to tug her in the direction of my car.

"No." She stood her ground and wrenched her arm from my grasp. "I can't just leave my car here. What if they come back?"

"It's acar. It’s less important than your fuckinglife."

"And you'reassumingthis person has it out for my life," she fired back.

I dragged my hand over my face and frisked the parking lot again, wishing I had a greater field of vision. She was right. I was making assumptions. But so was she.

"I don't know why you're being targeted, but neither do you," I pointed out.

"You don’t know that I'm being—"

"Youarebeing targeted, Kate. That much is fuckin' obvious at this point. And we need to get the hell out of here. We don't know where they are, if they're still here, or …"

I was giving myself the creeps.Fuck. I wasn't equipped for this shit. I could throw a punch well enough. I could drag a drunk asshole to the curb with relative ease. But handlingthistype of shit … stalkers, vandalism …

I wasn’t sure I was cut out for it.

"We should call the cops," I muttered aloud.

To my relief, Kate nodded. "Yeah. Okay, I'll call my dad's nurse and tell her I'll be a little longer."

And with that, I pulled my phone out and dialed 911.

***

The cops came pretty quickly and took some pictures, and Kate filed a report. They even did her the solid of cleaning the window off after the pictures were taken, and they assured her that nothing else had been tampered with. The car was safe to drive, and I supposed that was at least something close to a win.

"Chances are, it's just an angry customer," one of the two cops who’d answered the call said. "Does that happen a lot?"

Kate shrugged and edged closer to my side, wrapping her arms around her middle. "I mean, I wouldn't say it happensa lot, but it does happen sometimes."

"Well, has anyone gotten mad at you recently?"

"I … no, I don't think so. Not that I can remember. I—“

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