Page 66 of One Spicy Summer

She scurries in. “Yes, sir?”

“If that man ever steps foot in this building again, call security. Then the cops.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good. Now bring in the real Mr. Wagsport.”

Forty-five minutes later, I close another deal. At leastsomethingwent right today.

It’s nearly six when I finally pack up to leave. "Good work, Jules. Save the notes and prep a contract."

"Will do! Have a good night!" she chirps.

"You, too." I head for my truck, exhaustion settling deep in my bones. Once inside, I just sit there, gripping the steering wheel, letting everything wash over me.

I’ve been back for some time now, hiding. Avoiding Rafe, knowing he'd gone back home.Nothing was ever the same after Sylvia.Rafe ended up covering for me, lying to Presley, over and over, until he couldn’t anymore.

No wonder he hates me now.

This is all my fault. And no amount of punishment will ever be enough.

I keep Presley's letters in my closet, years worth of pain gathering dust in a box.. Burning a hole through me every goddamn day. "Fuck!" I roar, slamming my fists into the steering wheel.

I don't know how to fix this.I don't even know where to start.

Ramming the key into the ignition, I peel out of the garage and into the night.

I drive mindlessly to my usual hole-in-the-wall Korean market and gas station, Every Tang Korean, tucked a few miles from my place.

Roman, behind the counter, gives me a nod, our silent bro-code greeting.

I grab my usual, sushi roll, noodles, American cheese, a Korean soda, and toss a hundred on the counter.No chit-chat. No lingering.

The bell chimes as someone else walks in.

I tense, heart pounding. Should’ve worn my ball cap. Should’ve covered up. I grab the first candy bar I can and bolt for the register. Transaction done, I speed walk to my truck like my ass is on fire. Once inside, I slump against the seat, breathing hard. "Calm the fuck down, Ry," I mutter.Probably just my nerves after seeing my old man.

Seatbelt clicked, truck rumbling to life, I’m about to pull out when something catches my eye.

A girl, exiting the store. She looks... wrong.

Thin. Pale. Clothes hanging off her in tatters. Eyes sunken, haunted. She keeps glancing over her shoulder, jittery, scared. My gut twists into knots. She turns, and everything inside me shatters.

Presley.

But not the Presley I remember.

A ghost. A shell. A broken thing that used to be the love of my life.

Tears sting my eyes. My sweet girl.

What have I done?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Presley

As I step into Every Tang Korean, the bell overhead chimes, announcing my arrival. The store’s pretty dead, like usual, which suits me just fine.This place is way out from town, tucked into a corner where nobody from my past would dare venture. Exactly how I like it.

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