Page 138 of Snap Shot

Landon stands, too, following me to the entrance as I grab my purse and keys and push my feet into a pair of white sneakers. He lifts his bag over his shoulder as I ready to open the door.

“Come here for a sec.”

I sigh through my nose when his lips press to my forehead, eyes falling shut at the soft sensation.

“This was too short.”

I agree and apologize before leaving. He lifts his hood and backpedals down the hallway to the emergency exit stairwell as I get to the elevator. He waves and turns at the last minute before knocking the heavy door open. The heaviest breath puffs from my chest as I lean into the elevator wall.

I am in the worst kind of trouble.

—————

Without looking at me, Gabe hands over a container holding half a dozen double-chocolate cupcakes. “Don't judge me. I was stress-baking.”

“No judgment. They look fantastic.” She jumps out of the car when we park at Kurt's, grabs the bulging trash bag she threw in the backseat earlier, and slams the door shut.

Ten minutes later, a cacophony of screamed curses, crunching metal, and shattering glass has me lowering in my seat from where I idle by the gated garage alley entrance. Gabe rushes out, popping the collar of her green army jacket to hide her face as she tugs the panels closed across her chest. She gets into the car, seemingly unfazed.

What have I witnessed? Nothing. I've seen nothing. Heard nothing. Nope. Not getting involved.

“Let's go, Indi. I'm gonna miss my flight.”

Streetlights flash as they pass by in her stoic gaze, focusing on the highway through the windshield. We're both pretending nothing happened.

I move my eyes from the road to her. “Anything to say for yourself?”

“You're not my mom.”

Ah, so she's mad about two things at the moment.Not that there's ever a good time to cheat, but Gabe gets increasingly irritable and morose in October as her mother's death anniversary nears. I half-wish Landon and Wade had let me give in to the urge to tear that douche apart. Would’ve been worth it.

“You told me you were going to drop his stuff off while he wasn't at home.”

“I did.”

My eyebrows jump to the middle of my forehead. “So, you didn't plan to do…the other thing?” I refer to the act of vehicular vandalism that may or may not have occurred.

“No.” She scowls. “It just happened, okay? I was leaving through the garage and his stupid, beloved Lambo was sitting there,tauntingme—”

“A-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut!” I cover her mouth with my hand. “I don't want any part of this.”

“But I got rid of the bat—”

“I saidshhh!” I scold, waving her off. “You do remember I'm a lawyer, right? If I get subpoenaed, I can't lie to them. I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't want to.”

Her frown turns up into an unapologetic smirk. “Driving me isn't aiding and abetting?”

“Suddenly you're an expert in criminal law!” I throw my hands over my head, letting go of the steering wheel for a few seconds. “For fuck's sake, Gabe. You know I'm on your side. He deserves much worse. Hell, I'd prepare his grave myself if it didn't mean my career going up in flames. But I won't let you throw yours away, either. Not over some disrespectful piece of shit like him.”

She says nothing in response, averting her eyes to a line of trees on the horizon. The exit for the airport approaches and I veer onto the ramp during the silent pause. “Where are you going, anyway?”

“Kitchener to spend the week with my dad.” The fight in her tone sobers, hands fidgeting, thumbs dawdling in her lap. “I was gonna go home for Thanksgiving weekend anyway. Took extra days off.”

I hum and nod while we wait in queue for the passenger drop-off lane.

“I left the ring,” she admits softly. “On the nightstand.”

A sigh escapes from the ache in my chest. “You should've sold it.”

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