Page 80 of Peaches

No one says anything for a while as the pulse of roadway lights beats down around us. An uncomfortable knot forms in my throat, hot and rancid, as the reality of what Rhett’s done tonight sinks into me all over again. And those gunshots . . .

I’m not brave enough to ask who they hit.

“No one tells Brooks about any of this,” Kasey eventually says. “Or Mom or Dad. This stays here—at least until we know of any repercussions.”

He’s scared, I realize. And I get it—I am too. Even with Rhett beside me, seemingly unhurt, I’m scared to death of what all this means.

Rhett nods. “I’ll stay with Olivia tonight,” he tells his brothers.

“Oh no you won’t,” I declare.

He turns to me, having the audacity to look wounded. “I won’t?”

I shake my head. “Absolutely not. Not when I can’t trust myself not to throttle you while you sleep.” I point a finger at him. “I might be really damn happy that you’re still breathing, Rhett, but I amnothappy withyou. I’m fuckingpissed. You don’t trust me, and it looks like you don’t even trust your family. And now I don’t trustyou.”

A new tear slides down my cheek, and I wipe it away in frustration.

“Despite what you might think,” I go on, not caring that his brothers can hear every word, “I don’t care about the things you’ve done. I’ve never cared about your reputation or what anyoneelsethinks—I know you, and Iknowbetter. But I will not stick around just to be heartbroken by your lack of self-preservation. I can’t do it. I asked you to let me in, to let mehelp, and instead you chose to abandon yourself to something like this.”

He recoils like I’ve hit him again.Good, I think.

“I need time to process. You just . . . you handed yourself over to danger like it wasn’t going tomatterto anyone, but it clearly mattered to your brothers, Rhett. And it damn sure mattered to me.” My heart tumbles as I turn away from him, forcing myself to breathe as the world rushes past through the dark-tinted window.

* * *

I spendthe next week avoiding Rhett.

Not because I don’t want to see him—I’m bursting with the impulse to text him and see how’s doing. But I’d meant what I said about not wanting to set myself up for heartbreak if he was just going to throw himself to the wolves, and I’ve needed space to really process all that happened the night of the poker game.

Thankfully, things get busy at the café after Mom and Mark leave town on Sunday for a two-night getaway on the coast. Teresa and I take turns opening and closing the restaurant every day, doing our best to jump in and help the kitchen when we can.

Wednesday is Valentine’s Day, and Char comes in to hang out while she works, doing her best to needle Rhett-related information out of me after I’d all but told Ivan I’d think about another double date with Trent. I know my tight-lipped responses bother her, but I’m honestly not sure what to say. I can’t tell her things are done between us, because I don’t think they are. But I also can’t tell her the truth of all that’s happened over the last couple of weeks because I want to protect the Bennetts’—and Rhett’s—privacy.

So instead, I lean into another stream of updates. “I think I’m going to meet my dad,” I say, plopping into the booth opposite her and almost knocking over the foiled heart centerpiece that every table is currently dressed with. Pain sears through my hand as I brace my weight on it, and I wince. “Ow.”

Her eyes go wide. “Wait, what!” She looks at where I’m rubbing my hands together. “Are you okay?”

I nod, scooching a plate of heart-shaped sugar cookies her way that Luna dropped off from the bakery next door. I asked Mark to look at my hand yesterday after he and Mom got back, claiming I accidentally hit it against a door jam. He’s pretty sure there’s no broken bones, but it still hurts like hell. “I’ve been invited to my half-sister’s wedding, and I decided it’s worth a shot, you know?” Tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind my ears, I sneak a peek out the window where the bright sun warms the town’s streets. “I want to at least give it a chance.”

“Does your mom know?”

“Yeah. She’s going with me.” I used the email address listed on the invitation to ask Céline if I could bring Mom as a plus one, and her response had chimed in my inbox within minutes.

Of course!it read.We’re so excited that you’ve decided to come. Dad will be thrilled!

Not even an ounce of hesitation . . . at least from what I could tell.

“Oh mygod, Liv. That’s huge. Are you nervous?”

“Terrified,” I admit. “But I think it helps that I don’t need him to be my dad. I don’tneedthis family to be my family—I’ve got all that I need here in Saddlebrook Falls. So it takes some of the pressure off, I guess? I’ll just take the opportunity to meet them and see how it goes.”

“It’s okay to want more than that,” Charlotte says quietly.

I smile. “I know. And maybe I will. But right now, this is more than enough.”

Later, I’m making a mental note to plan an afternoon with Mom so we can both find something to wear. The wedding isn’t for another three months, but it’ll be a nice opportunity to spend an afternoon with her. Maybe we can even go out to the city.

She gives me the night off work, saying it’s so I can enjoy the romantic holiday with a date, but I know she just wants to work because Mark’s working. It doesn’t take long for the lunch rush—all five tables’ worth—to disappear, so I close myself out and say goodbye to them both.

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