Page 77 of Wrecked for Love
“I’ve been thinking. I don’t know when or how I’ll ever go back to New York—” I said, my voice trailing off.
“Claire, you promised to stay here.”
“I know, I’m staying, but—” I lowered my head. “I need to find where Cody’s buried. Since the night he died, I can’t even look at his photo. I don’t even have one.”
Elia shifted closer. “We’ll find his resting place. But for now, we need to keep you safe. Give it some time, and we’ll plan from there.”
I took a deep breath. Going back to New York would be suicide, and I knew it. His advice was probably the best option now—one step at a time.
“You’re right. I’m fine with putting it on hold. It was just a passing thought. One of those moments, you know.”
“I get it.” He brushed his fingers across my forehead. “Hey, how about takeout tonight?” He glanced toward the fridge with a complete lack of enthusiasm. Neither of us had managed to grocery shop this week.
“Good idea!”
“What do you feel like?” he asked, turning to face me.
“Pizza?”
“Sure! We’re overdue for that, aren’t we?”
As he placed the order, nausea blindsided me. Hardly my usual reaction to pizza.
I didn’t want to alarm him, so I stood up as casually as I could and made my way to the bathroom in quick but subtle steps. Once inside, I barely made it to the sink before throwing up. Great. I really hoped pizza wouldn’t be ruined because of this.
31
CLAIRE
Pizza last night hadn’t been a disaster, thank goodness. Another evening was spent watchingYellowstone, though I’d passed on the Valley Wolf. I didn’t want to tempt fate with my nausea.
My shift at Paul’s passed quickly today. The shop was busier than ever as winter took hold. It was amazing how many things broke just because of the cold temperatures.
Annette was out, tied up with things her mother needed her to do, though I was pretty sure she’d rather be here trying to wrestle a stack of rogue paint cans or battling a sudden avalanche of screws than getting stuck at home. That left me alone in the stockroom, not that I minded. Sometimes, she could be a bit of a distraction.
I was in the middle of stacking boxes when the back door creaked open. I wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not through the back. Customers didn’t usually come this way.
Pivoting, I spotted a familiar face—Fritzy, Elia’s new ranch hand.
“Fritzy! Fancy seeing you here. Shopping for the boss?” I cheered.
His response felt like he’d just been caught shoplifting, which, of course, he hadn’t. “Miss, Mr. Lucas needs you.” I couldn’t quite grasp his tone. It wavered somewhere between unease and something hidden.
I straightened. “What? What happened? Couldn’t he call me?”
“He knew you’d say that.” Fritzy shifted uneasily. “His phone’s busted.”
“Damn. Okay, just let me tell Paul.”
“We need to hurry—” He glanced nervously over his shoulder.
“Fritzy?” I took a step closer, my pulse quickening. “What’s going on?”
“You have to come with me!” His voice cracked, his hands gesturing urgently.
Just then, Paul walked in, looking surprised to see someone else in the stockroom.
“Hey, Paul,” I said quickly. “This is Fritzy, Elia’s ranch hand.”
