Page 14 of Bleeding Hearts

Standing there, he holds an electronic pad and keys that jingle from his finger.

“Can I help you?”

“Bethany Rogan?” He flashes me one of those salesman grins.

“That’s me.”

“Before signing off on the delivery, I need you to come outside and carefully inspect the vehicle.” With a slight frown, he scratches his chin. “Do you need help getting outside? I didn’t realize you were…”

“There’s a ramp in the garage. But I’m afraid this is a mistake. I didn’t order a car.” I lean forward so I can see what has the boys so riled up. “And I sure as hell didn’t order that. Jesus. Does it have a red interior?”

A quick glance is all it takes to realize that the SUV far exceeds the value of my totaled one. I’m not even sure I can afford the insurance on it, let alone the payments. This has to be a mistake.

Looking a little unsettled, the poor salesman nods and quickly glances over his shoulder. “You are Miss Bethany Faye Rogan. Born August 17th?—”

I cut him off. “Yes. But that’s not mine. Like I said, I didn’t order a new car. And as you can see, at the moment, I have no need for one. So there has to be some mistake.”

With a determined look on his face, he vigorously shakes his head in disagreement. “No, mistake Miss Rogan. We don’t make one-hundred and fifty grand mistakes.”

Jodi coughs behind me. “A hundred and fifty grand? Who is dumb enough to spend that on a car? Does it tell you that on your pad there? Because I can promise you my friend here isn’t. She nearly passed out when she bought her year-old Acura at one fifth that price, six months ago.”

“Oh.” His smug salesperson smile returns. “Well, this is top of the line and a much better vehicle than I imagine that one was. I think you’ll be very happy with it.”

My intuitive son, Felix, has snuck up behind the man while he tries to convince us to accept the damn vehicle. “Who’s Theodore Stewart the third?” Looking up at me, he winks with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “He’s the person who purchased it according to the invoice.”

The man’s frustration is evident as he grunts and huffs. “That wasn’t supposed to be disclosed.” Glancing over his shoulder, he addresses my son. “That information is confidential, and it was wrong of you to pry.”

“Don’t you dare talk to my son like that.” I pat Jodi’s hand, which is resting on my shoulder. “Wheel me back. Boys come inside. Mr. Whatever your name is, you can take that withyou when you leave. I’m not signing shit. And tell Mr. Stewart he shouldn’t buy vehicles for people he doesn’t know. Have a wonderful day.”

As soon as the boys are back inside, I grab the door and close it before the man can say more. He stands there dumbfounded for a few seconds before stepping off my stoop and pulling out his phone. I imagine he’s calling this Mr. Stewart, sharing the news with him.

Jodi pushes me back into the kitchen. “Come on. Breakfast is done. Let’s eat.”

“Who is Mr. Theo the third?” Finn asks as he drops into his chair at the table. “You got a side piece we don’t know about?”

“Dude, yuck.” Felix makes a face like he’s gonna throw up. “He’s the guy who hit Mom.”

I’m about to pick up my napkin, but stop at the revelation. “How do you know that?” I didn’t even know that.

With a nonchalant expression, Felix shrugs and lowers his eyes. “I might have taken the liberty of looking up your accident report. Then conducted a little more research. Mr. Theodore Stewart, III, is a twenty-year-old heir to a global manufacturing company. He’s basically living the cushy life off his family’s money. In the past three years, he’s had ten car accidents, three of which were serious. Yet he’s still driving and I’m guessing we just learned why.”

My son is too smart for his own good. I should be mad at him, but I’m not. It’s possible he’s uncovered information my insurer is unaware of.

“What have I told you about hacking?” When Jodi passes me a plate, I take it and set it in front of me. “And don’t tell me this was different. It’s not. No matter your reasoning, if you get caught, you could go to jail. Do you want to go to jail like your father?”

He shakes his head and groans.

“Promise me you won’t do it again.” I know it’s a promise he can’t keep, but dammit, I don’t want the FBI or some higher ABC federal branch knocking on my door, ready to haul him off.

“I promise.” It’s a flat out lie, but one I’m not about to address right now. “But can I say something before you ground me?”

Unsure if I really want to hear this, I nod, acknowledging the fairness in letting him explain his reasoning.

“Don’t you think someone needs to stop him? He could have killed you. And I’m sorry, but just because his pockets go deep, it doesn’t mean he should get to do whatever he wants.” Felix looks up, sadness marring his face. “Next time, he might kill someone. Do you want that blood on your hands? I don’t want it on mine. That’s why I did what I did.”

My eyes scan the table, taking my time to look at all three boys. What the fuck has he done? The other two boys are shoveling food in so fast it’s like a race to the finish. A tell, that they know what he did, and it’s not as simple as a hacking job.

Jodi squints and furrows her brow when our eyes meet. It’s her unmistakable sign that her mind is hard at work. This isn’t the first time we’ve dealt with shit like this, and I know she has my back.

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