Page 64 of My Not So Wicked Stepbrother (My Not So Wicked 1)

“Can someone bring me an infrared gun?” I shouted. I should have done this earlier, but the thermocouple data looked good. “We need to run a ghost slab!” I yelled to my tech guys.

While they went to work getting the caster and furnaces back up and running, I went up into the observation deck and took a small but much needed nap curled up in the corner on the floor. For a beautiful hour my brain was void of any thoughts or dreams. That was until Wallace came up and nudged me. “Wake up, kiddo. The higher ups are on me to get the strand back up and running.”

With barely opened eyes, I looked up at him. “I don’t like this job.” That was a lie, but in the second it felt very true.

Wallace chuckled deeply while reaching out to help me up. That was a good call on his part. I needed all the help I could get. With one hoist I was on my feet. One of my guys was standing ready with a cold Dr. Pepper. I took it and downed it all in one long drink. I crushed the can with my hand and belched loud enough to fill the entire deck. And I wondered why Sawyer was turned off by me. “Let’s do this.”

We marched back down like soldiers off to war with my infrared gun as our weapon of choice. I fired that baby at the thermocouples, and lo and behold, they were a bunch of liars. Ugh. It was the thermocouples all along. “Well, there’s our problem. Call the mechanics down here and get those replaced, and you should be ready go,” I instructed the tech.

Wallace patted my back. “Go get some rest, kiddo. You did good.”

Rest. Yes, it sounded so good. Too bad I had soccer practice and something with Sawyer tonight. Maybe Sawyer could just tell me quickly he was abhorred by me and then I could cry myself to sleep. At least I would be sleeping. Or, maybe, just maybe, he would tell me something different and I could fall asleep in his arms. That sounded like heaven.

I walked into the blaring sunlight and remembered not to complain about the heat or the sun after what I’d experienced in Alabama. That made me think—did I really want to live there? We didn’t have tornadoes here. In Denver, sure, but not on this side of the mountains. So we had blizzards, but you got plenty of warning before those, and snow was fun to play in. Tornadoes not so much. Depending on what Sawyer said tonight, I might want to take my chances with the tornadoes.

As soon as I reached my Jeep, my phone rang. I reached into my pocket with my black-streaked hand. I needed a shower something fierce. Frankie’s name was on my screen. I hope she wasn’t calling me to tell me she was quitting before the end of summer, though at this point I felt like my dad deserved it for thrusting that wicked witch wife of his on all of us. Maybe that was Sawyer’s hang-up—he didn’t want to make out with his stepsister. If that was his problem, I hated Josephine even more.

“Hey, Frankie. How are you?”

“Emma, you gotta get up here.”

“What’s wrong? Did something happen to my dad? My sisters?”

She paused, making my heart beat out of my chest.

“Frankie!”

“Everyone is physically fine, but your dad has lost his damn mind. You’ve got to get up here now before he makes a serious mistake.”

“What is going on?”

“One of our guests claims she had some money and jewelry stolen from her cabin.”

“What? That’s never happened before.”

“Exactly. But Ashton conveniently found the jewelry in Morgan’s room in the bunkhouse.”

“Morgan, as in Ray’s son? No way.” We’d known that family forever and they were as true as true could be.

“No way is right. I think . . . Emma, I think Ashton is the real culprit.”

I dropped my phone on the pavement. It was a miracle it didn’t crack. I hastily picked it up. “Frankie, why do you think that?”

“Emma, please just come. I’ll explain more when you get here.”

I hung up and tapped my phone against my head. Did someone hate me? So much for showering or maybe even making soccer practice, at this rate. And worse, how was this going to affect my already shaky family dynamics? I knew Frankie would never make such an accusation unless she was certain. My gut began to wriggle. Sawyer’s thoughts and feelings about this new twist in the plot entered the picture. Should I call him? What would I say? Maybe it was best for me to go and see what I was dealing with first.

Honestly, though, I don’t know why Frankie thought I could be of any help. No one in my family cared about my feelings or what I had to say as of late. Dad was pretty much non-existent in my life now. No more phone calls or visits. When I was there, Josephine made sure we never had any quality time together.

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