Page 36 of Oh, Hell No

“You sure? Because I thought you wanted revenge on Perry Gerard for funneling his fake money through you to the tune of four million. But you didn’t say anything about that. You wanted to take his lungs from his chest because you said he didn’t deserve them, all because he didn’t seem to care about his sister’s well-being.”

I hadn’t realized I’d said that out loud. Jesus, I needed to go to bed.

“Like I said, I’m past the exhausted point.”

Linc put the cigar back in his mouth, holding it between his teeth. “Uh-huh,” he replied, not looking convinced. “Just make sure you and your dick stay away from her. She’s gonna end up questioned by the Feds. He deposited five grand of his play money in her checking account last week. When they trace it back to her, she’s gonna have a spotlight on her. We don’t need that shit. Not after this.”

He started back into the woods to return to the cellar, and I watched him go.

The idea of Winslet being pressed by the Feds, having to undergo their form of interrogation—I wasn’t going to let that happen. Guessed sleep wasn’t coming for me after all. I had to go handle one more thing.

Sixteen

Winslet

Eight Weeks Later

It was the “er” months. Time for fall. Why did the South not get that?

I pulled my sundress away from my skin as it stuck to it. Just gross. Opening the door to my Beetle, I tossed in my bag full of papers to grade and my laptop into the back seat. When I got home, I was going to take a nice, long soak in cool water and drink a tall glass of sweet iced tea. This week had been one of those I was glad to end.

Not only had a stomach flu hit my room and I had five different kids vomit on their desks, floor, and even my desk—which was, by far, the worst since I had to spend five hundred dollars to replace everything I’d had to throw away after that—but I, too, had suffered from the dang thing on Wednesday. Thankfully, it was a twenty-four-hour thing, and I was back in the classroomon Thursday, only to have two more kids puke before day’s end. My stomach had still been weak that day, and it had made me green there for a bit.

“Winslet!” a familiar male voice called out, and I fought back my groan.

This man was relentless, I swore. Pasting a smile on my face, I turned to face him instead of climbing into my car and cranking up the air conditioner like I desperately wanted to.

“Hey,” I replied as Toby slowed to a jog once he got close to me.

The man had been running in an attempt to stop me. He was a nice guy—really, he was—but there was no interest there for me. Nada. Not even a tiny inkling.

“Hey,” he said, breathing hard and smiling brightly. “I wanted to catch you before you left. The church has the Corn Husk Festival this weekend,” he told me, which I knew.

When he saidchurch, he meant the Baptist church that owned the school we worked at. When they had an event, the entire school was reminded over the intercom daily, papers were sent home in the kids’ binders at least three times that week, and teachers were told via email to mention it to the kids every day before they left to go home in hopes they’d beg their parents to attend.

I nodded my head, struggling with that plastered-on smile I was holding.

It’s hot, Toby. Get on with it.

“Yeah, of course you know.” He chuckled, looking amused. “I was just wondering if you wanted to go. With me,” he added the last part, as if I needed clarification.

All teachers were expected to attend. It was one of those mandatory things. I was hot, tired, and wanted to stop peopling for the day. Coming up with a reason why I could not go with him was proving difficult. He knew I was going. I had no other person to claim I was going with. My thoughts briefly went toPerry, who I would have forced to go with me in the past, but seeing as he was in federal prison, I no longer had that option.

“Uh, sure,” I replied, feeling as if I had finally caved from his determination.

He beamed at me, and I felt slightly guilty. He was nice. It wouldn’t hurt me to spend the day with him. He wasn’t ugly or annoying. I didn’t have to kiss him or anything. I hoped he didn’t try and hold hands and make it weird.

“Great,” he said, sounding surprised. “I’ll pick you up at nine? That sound good?”

The earlier we went, the earlier it was over.

“Sure.”

“Yay,” he said, nodding and grinning so big that it was verging on goofy.

He needed to rein it in a touch.

“Well, I need to go. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told him before moving to get into the driver’s seat of my car.

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