Page 39 of Just Let Go

Grady kept his gaze firmly on Gus, who leaned against his car. “You goin’ somewhere?”

Grady turned in a circle like a trapped animal, raking a hand through his hair. “I’m going nowhere fast.” He’d mumbled the words under his breath, but they surprised even him. It wasn’t like Grady Benson to admit defeat—ever. “Just needed to get out of that town for an hour.”

“That right?” Gus squinted up at him, the morning sun highlighting his face.

“I was gonna come back.”

“I clocked you doing eighty-five back there.”

Was that all? Grady thought he’d kicked it up to at least ninety. They must’ve caught him just before that final acceleration. “So, what, now you’re gonna slap a speeding ticket onto my record?”

“I’m thinking about it.” Gus eyed him. “Saw the work you did at Hazel’s.”

“Yeah, so?” Grady didn’t have time for this. Any of it. He’d call his lawyer himself as soon as Gus left him alone. He would listen to Grady, even if Pete couldn’t get the job done.

“It’s good work.”

Grady didn’t reply. He’d felt worthless working alongside Ryan Brooks. He wasn’t used to taking orders, and he wasn’t used to feeling helpless.

“Brooks said you were a good help.”

Grady looked away. “You’re surprised?”

Gus ran a hand over his white mustache. “You don’t have a reputation for being a hard worker.”

“Would I be where I am if I wasn’t a hard worker?”

Gus shrugged. “Well, talent can get some people pretty far—work isn’t even a factor.”

“I work.” Grady resented the implication.

“Level with me, son,” Gus said. “What’s really going on with you?”

Was he serious? Did he really think Grady was going to open up and lay all his problems out on the table in front of the man who was single-handedly ruining his life?

“Never mind,” Gus said, before Grady could tell him off. “I get it.”

“You get what?”

The sheriff waved a hand from Grady’s head to his feet and back again as if to indicate whatever it was he got.

“What?”

“This thing you’re doing. This persona you’ve created. Rebellious. Annoyed. The tough guy.”

“You don’t know a thing about me.”

“But I know about regret.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grady walked back toward his car.

“What is it you’re running away from?” Gus called out.

Grady ignored him and got in the SUV, started the engine, and sat there, stewing. Then he stuck his head out the window. “I’m not going anywhere and I don’t need a babysitter. You can go.”

“I’ll escort you back to town,” Gus called. “It’ll be my gift to you.”

Was that sarcasm? This guy. Good grief.

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