Page 121 of Rules to Love By

“Yeah, okay.” Quickly, Marcus shrugged out of the suit jacket and into the heavy wool sweater. It really was very ugly. But it smelled like the B and B—like warm bread and sawdust and coffee. And a little bit like Tris’s cologne, so maybe he was the last one to have worn it. “Thanks, Jake.”

Jake nodded. “You should go. You’ll be late, and then you’ll have to speed, and you shouldn’t speed. Not when you’re going to talk to the police.”

“You’re right.” Marcus bit his lip. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re wearing your slippers.”

“I’m okay.” Jake took Lucy’s hand. “A lot was going on. It was confusing, and I had to think about it all, but it’s fine now.”

“I’m very sorry I was part of making things so confusing.”

Jake waved a hand. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you about that. Everybody’s rules are different. Which is confusing.” He rolled his eyes but shrugged. “I forget that sometimes.”

“Like sometimes I forget that there are a lot of people who care about me and worry about me. It takes some getting used to.”

Jake snorted. “Get used to it. These people never give anyone away once they collect them.” He leaned close. “That’s good, by the way.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“But.” Kreed stepped up, dropping a hand onto Jake’s shoulder. “He’s right that you should get a move on if you don’t want to be rushed. Here.” He handed Marcus a plastic bag. “Snacks for the road.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Kreed held out a bag to Tris, too.

“Oh yes he did,” Tris crowed. “Sandwiches! This last night’s roast beef?”

“And coleslaw I made this morning, and slices of apple pie.”

“You guys really are the best,” Marcus decided.

“This is what we do,” Lucky said. Then his pocket trilled, and he jumped, whipping his phone out to look at the screen. “Shit. I have to take this. Drive safe!” And he turned and pushed through the door to the private rooms behind the kitchen. The door closed firmly behind him, with a noticeable click. Kreed frowned after him but said nothing.

Lucky’s abrupt departure was enough to jolt everyone else into motion, and before he knew it, Marcus was being ushered out the front door. A gust of warm air swirled around him just as he got to the open door. He breathed it in deeply, reminded of all the things that had made him feel at home here. He patted the stair railing in thanks as he made his way down to the sidewalk.

It was a good house, and the scents of it lingered in the fibers of the atrocious sweater as he belted into the passenger seat of Eli’s truck.

“Okay?” Eli asked as he settled beside him.

“I think it will be,” he admitted as they pulled away from the curb. “Eventually.”

They didn’t talk as they left town. Marcus focused on the scenery, watching the new green of spring fly past out the window as they sped towards the city.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

When Marcus finally joined his friends at a park a block away from the police station, it was past noon, and he’d never been more grateful to see anyone. They were all hungry, despite having devoured all of Kreed’s snacks except one piece of pie Eli had insisted they save for Marcus.

Schiffer didn’t even complain about his shoes as they crossed the squishy spring ground to the picnic table the group had commandeered.

“Quite an entourage, Mr. Richards,” Schiffer said, nodding around at the group.

Eli reached over to take his unresisting hand, and he managed a tired smile.

Tris shuffled off the bench to give him a hug. “You okay?” he whispered.

“I don’t want to talk about it here,” Marcus said. Gently, he pushed Tris off him. “Mr. Schiffer knows a place not too far from here. We can go for lunch and talk, if you guys are up for it.”

“Talk about what?” Eli got up to stand next to him, as though taking up his rightful place. His body heat, even through the thick sweater, was nice.

“Options,” Schiffer said. “What it means for Marcus if there’s a will.” He clamped a hand onto Marcus’s shoulder. “And what it means if there isn’t one.”