Page 86 of Rosie and the Beast Next Door

Sheriff Savage met usin the driveway when we pulled up and helped us unload all of my artwork into his garage. He must have spent most of the evening clearing it out for me and pushing things to the side to make room.

I was distracted with thoughts of my dad as I unlatched my tailgate. He didn’t offer to help or seem to understand that I couldn’t give away all my money right now. Maybe he didn’t get the scope of the damage, even though I’d been really clear aboutit. And whatinvesting? I thought he was using my server tips for food and toiletries, and to save up money to get back on his feet in his own place.

Sheriff Savage reached onto a shelf to pull down some old worn quilts that were torn in some places and stained in others. He spread them out on the garage floor to protect my art from the hard concrete and oil stains. He carried each painting like it was precious, made of glass, and Dylan followed his lead.

My eyes welled with tears that I dashed away before the men could see. Or, at least, IthoughtI did it before they could see.

But Dylan’s hand brushed mine and gave it a tender squeeze as he passed. And Sheriff Savage disappeared inside and came out a moment later with my favorite kind of candy bar. “Here,” he said as he handed it to me. “I picked it up at the gas station earlier.”

I stared at it in my palm. Sheriff Savage knew my favorite candy bar. He was inconveniencing himself to help me out. He always advocated for me in court to get the lightest sentence possible and had looked the other way more than once when I was caught doing something I shouldn’t.

All while my dad was trying to desperately scoop water from an empty well.

One tear turned into several and then dozens. I stood, frozen, and let the devastation wash over me.

Dylan and his dad shared a concerned glance and communicated something soundlessly, yet I couldn’t bring myself to be embarrassed. I swiped at the tears, but they fell quicker than I could wipe them away. I’m sure they thought I was crying about my apartment and store. About the lost income and the time it was going to take to get everything right.

Dylan’s arms came around me, and I cried into his chest like I’d lost everything.

“I’ll unload the truck,” Sheriff Savage said quietly. “Why don’t you two go inside and eat, and maybe we can all watch a movie or play a game later.”

I felt Dylan nod and let him lead me inside.

Chapter 33

Dylan

Roommate Group Text

Dylan: I know you’re both angry at me. And I don’t blame you.

Dylan: I stole the win from us.

Dylan: Guys? Are you there?

Coming together in thecommon cause of wanting to cheer Rosie up eased some of the tension between me and Dad. It didn’t dissolve it completely, but I’d take anything I could.

We’d decided to play Texas Holdem, using candy as our currency. Mom divvied up the candy while Dad shuffled the cards. I hadn’t played cards since high school, and Rosie had never played the game, so Dad gave us a quick explanation.

I kept making bad decisions in the game and losing my candy because I was keeping one eye on Rosie the entire night. She was so down for someone who was happy and bubbly for most of thetime I’d known her. It was more than just sadness though. It was like she’d lost hope.

But healing from something like this took time—potentially lots of time. And I didn’t want to make her feel like she had to pretend to be happy to keep me comfortable.

It surprised no one—except Rosie—when Mom won the entire pot. Mom was a total card sharp, and growing up, it had been mine and Lily’s goal to beat her. Dad said what first made him fall in love with my mom was how slyly competitive she was. She’d come into a game sweet and unassuming and then smile the entire time she was wiping the floor with you.

It wasn’t until I met Rosie that I started to understand what exactly was so attractive about that quality.

“I’m going to bed,” Rosie said after she yawned for the tenth time. Mom had made her some lavender sleepy tea to help her calm down, and she looked like she could lie her head on this table and fall immediately asleep.

“I’ll walk you up.” I hopped out of my chair and took her hand firmly in mine.

Lizzy slowly lifted her eyelids when we came into the room, then went back into a sound sleep. She was snuggled into the heated blanket Mom had pulled out of storage for her and placed on the guest bed.

She was shaking with cold,Mom had explained while Rosie and I ate dinner,even though she’d burrowed under that thick blanket on the back of the couch. So I set her up in the guest room with a space heater and heated blanket.

“Poor thing,” Rosie cooed.

“Yes,” I said dryly. “She’s clearly suffering.”

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