Page 118 of Braving the Storm
The asshole is smiling. I can hear it through the phone.
“Well… you’re in Crimson Ridge crying into your pillow. This chick has obviously gone, so I’m just trying to put the pieces together here.”
She’s not somechickor some meaningless hook-up. Briar is everything I never knew I needed, and now she’s gone, and it’s slicing away at me, day by day.
Except, I don’t say any of that.
“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know, alright.” My fingers tug at my hair. “Your smug fucking mustache happy now?” I grunt.
“Not if you’re hurting, man.” Beau clears his throat. “You love someone, and it cuts something extra savage when they’re not around.”
My chest aches just hearing him say it out loud. Because it’s the goddamn truth.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do if I’ve already lost her before I ever truly had her?”
There’s a wry-sounding noise from the other end of the line. “As much as it kills me to admit this… because I know you get off on being a clever prick and all, but, I don’t know. I’ve never had someone like that, and whatever it is, it sounds fucking brutal.”
It’s my turn to chuckle now. “It really is.”
“You want me to come out there?”
What I’ve done to deserve a friendship like Beau’s, I’ll never understand. The guy has got an imploding marriage, legal shit up to his eyeballs trying to work out a drawn-out, messy separation, and a new business he’s starting up. Yet, here he is, offering to fly to the back of nowhere just to sit and drink a beer or two and make sure I’m doing ok.
“Nah, man. Besides, it’s only a few more weeks ‘til you’re here anyway.”
“I’m fucking counting the minutes to get outta this circus, I tell you.”
“We can catch up for a cold one, or maybe an entire goddamn bottle; who knows how much I’ll be needing to numb myself by then.”
“Jesus. Maybe I do need to fly out there sooner.”
“Take a joke, Heartford. You’d think with that slug on your face, you’d be able to know a joke when you see it.”
“Whatever, you love it, bet you wanna know what it feels like tickling your pussy.” It’s damn good to hear him like this, and I’mgrateful for the brief opportunity to lighten the weight yoked around my shoulders.
“Dream of me. I’ll be in Crimson Ridge before you know it, and you won’t have time for anything except drooling over my good looks.”
“Fuck off.”
“Love you, too, Stôrmand. See you in a couple of weeks.”
Chapter 41
Sitting across from the attorney dressed in a peacock blue blazer and skirt, I brace my head in my hands. Clara is patient and seems sympathetic to my predicament—or at the very least, she’s paid enough that she puts on a good performance.
We’ve been going through the contents of my father’s estate, his will, and all the papers I have privy to as one of his designated Lane Enterprises heirs. It’s been weeks now of sitting amongst the sea of documents looking forsomething,but I’m not sure exactly what it is we’re looking for.
All I know is that when I find it, I’ll know.
“Briar, why don’t you head home… take a break?” Her heels clack as she gets up from the office chair on the other side of the conference table we’ve covered with stacks of folders and box files.
There’s also what seems to be an endless supply of electronic documents that we need to turn our attention to if this search proves to be unfruitful, but I’ve got a gut feeling we need to begin with the reams of printed paperwork. If there is anything worth my while, it’s going to be buried inside files like these, rather than in an easily searchable digital filing system.
My father was intelligent like that.
“Clara, be real. You know I’d rather sleep here than go back there.”
She grimaces. “God, I wish I could hit that son of a bitch with some sort of legal punch to the balls for you.”
