He now wore a glucose monitor twenty-four seven that continuously checked his levels. It was a lifesaver, literally. After several ER trips, a week-long stay in the hospital for diabetic ketoacidosis, and fighting with his insurance for weeks, they finally approved his monitor. We’d been able to keep him out of an ambulance ever since. Considering the medical bills that still hung over his head, that was a relief. Speaking of which…

I went to the counter where my father kept his pile of mail and sorted through the stack. Snagging the envelope from thehospital’s billing department, I tore it open and scanned the pages, wincing when I came to the outstanding balance. I paid what I could on it every month, and he pretended not to know. We never spoke of it. It was easier that way. After all he’d been through the past six years, his pride was all he had left.

After the accident, and everything that followed, he was a mess. He didn’t take care of himself. He let his diabetes get out of control, and eventually needed to have his lower leg amputated. He could no longer work and was forced to give up his job as the elementary school janitor. The pay wasn’t great, but it was enough to get by. Plus, he had benefits and had summers off for the most part, which was great when Lyle and I were still in school.

Now he was on disability, and his check was barely enough to cover the house and utilities with little extra for groceries and medicine. I tried to help where I could, but I had bills of my own. Sometimes I thought it would be easier to give up my place and move back in with him to help with the bills, but I couldn’t do that, not with who he kept letting come around.

I curled my fist, crumpling the papers still in my hand as I thought about the way my father had been treated. He’d been taken advantage of time and time again, but he never would stand up for himself. There was no way I could live here and watch him get mistreated, stolen from, and lied to repeatedly.

Straightening the papers, I smoothed out the bill before refolding it and stuffing it into my pocket along with the overdue electric bill. He should’ve had enough money to pay it last month, especially considering I covered the gas and water, but he kept giving his money to someone he shouldn’t, someone who knew Dad would never tell them no.

Gritting my teeth, I quickly unpacked the groceries and put them away. Dad let out a soft snore and stirred in his chair but didn’t wake. I scrawled out a quick note and stuck it to the fridge.My hands froze as I took in the faded picture on the magnet I’d absentmindedly grabbed. It was a photo of my brother in his football uniform his senior year, his dirty blond hair and aquiline nose so much like our mother’s, it hurt to look at. He barely remembered her, but he was a carbon copy of the woman who'd left us when we were little. Being a wife and mom had just been too much for her.

I swallowed hard, forcing down the emotion threatening to crawl up my throat. Memories of my mother always made my chest ache, but it was the shattered hopes and dreams of my baby brother that made me feel like someone stole all the breath from my lungs. Lyle had been trying to make something of himself, and despite growing up without a mom and living just above the poverty line, he was on the road to success. He was a talented and dedicated athlete with a scholarship to play for a D1 football team, but it was all stolen in an instant.

And Olivia Duprey was the thief.

Her actions that night caused our family immeasurable sorrow and devastation. If it wasn't for her, my brother would’ve gone to Tuscaloosa for college where I had no doubt he would catch the eye of a recruiter. His future was bright. And it was snuffed out with one careless act.

I needed Olivia out of my town. Seeing her brought back too many memories. She was a painful reminder of all that was wrong in my world. I wanted her gone.

So when the parts for her car were delivered late on Friday afternoon, I saw my chance to hasten her exit. Murphy was about to close the shop when I approached him with the box containing the parts.

“These just came in,” I offered, and he scanned the label on the box.

“Those the parts for Olivia’s car?” I nodded. “Great, I’ll get started on that Monday.”

What? No, Monday wouldn’t work. It needed to be done this weekend. Murphy opened the shop half a day on Saturdays and was usually here until the afternoon. He could get it fixed. He was the fastest, most experienced mechanic in the shop.

“Can’t you work on it tomorrow?” I blurted out before I could think better of it. He quirked a brow, and I winced. He was my boss, and although he was easy going, he didn’t tolerate disrespect from his guys. Before I could mutter my apology, he shook his head and clamped a hand on my shoulder.

“No can do. I promised the wife and kids we’d go camping all weekend,” he explained.

Shit. I wanted that damn car out of my sight. I wanted Olivia out of this town. There was only one way I could think of to make that happen sooner rather than later.

“What if I stay late tonight and work on it? I could have it ready by tomorrow.” Murphy sucked on his teeth as he considered my proposal. He would have to pay me overtime, of course, but the garage was the busiest it had ever been. It was making money hand over fist. He could afford to give me a few extra hours, and I could really use the money. Dad’s property taxes just went up again, and his house needed a new roof. Even though I could provide the labor, materials weren’t cheap, and I was buying more and more groceries to offset the rest of his expenses.

I held my breath as Murphy mulled over my offer. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and planted his hands on his hips.

“Why not?” he replied, and I did my best to suppress a triumphant grin. “If you can get that knocked out tonight, that’ll free Bobby up for that SUV with the blown head gaskets tomorrow.”

“Ah man,” Bobby groaned from the next bay over. Nobody liked working on those. They were a nightmare. Murphy chuckled and shook his head.

“Thanks, Landon,” he said before ducking back into the office to pack up for the day, and I settled in for a long night of work.

Chapter 5

Olivia

My eyes flutteredopen against a shaft of sunlight creeping in through a crack in the blinds. I lifted my hand and turned away, confusion clouding my brain. My room was never this bright in the morning. I had black-out drapes to keep the sunrise out for nights I worked late.

The room around me slowly came into focus as I blinked away the fog of sleep. I remembered then that I wasn’t in my apartment in Atlanta.

My room at my grandmother’s house hadn’t changed since I was a teenager. A sea of pastel colors and fluffy pillows surrounded me in a cloud of familiar comfort.

When I got the keys earlier this week, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stay here knowing my grandmother wasn’t just down the hall, that I wouldn’t wake to her famous buttermilk biscuits or the sound of her softly singing old hymns while she sliced up peaches for homemade ice cream. It was my favorite treat, and she’d made it for me at least once a week during the summer when I spent most of my time with her. It was either that or go to camp while my mother traveled nearly the entire month of June. It was a no-brainer.

The now familiar ache I felt every time I thought of her settled in my chest, and I fell back against my pillow. Being in this house without her, her lavender scent still fragrant in the air despite her absence, was almost more than I could handle. I missed her fiercely. She was the only reason I’d bothered to visit at all the past several years. Now that she was gone, I wasn’t sure there was anything left to come back to. My mother certainly didn’t care one way or another. She hardly called me and only spent time with me on the holidays because it was expected. With Nan gone, I doubted I would see much of her.