Page 136 of The Games We Play
“I had a patron stop by the library and they mentioned that Petal Pusher didn’t open this morning.” Her voice cracked slightly. “That’s not like her, Mac. She’s always there. Always opens on time.”
“I’ll go,” I said instantly, already moving. My boots scuffed across the office floor. “I’ll head over and check on her.”
“I’m in a meeting with the board,” Penny continued, her breath shaking. “I can’t leave right now and I just—” She inhaled sharply. “I’m so worried.”
Her voice broke something open inside me.
“I’ve got it,” I promised, ready to storm out the door. “I’ll call you as soon as I get there.”
Ready and hell bent on making sure everything was okay, I hung up the phone. My sister caught my arm before I could storm out.
“Don’t you dare try to stop me,” I snapped, eyes blazing. If she thought now was the time to give me hell, she had another thing coming.
“I’m not,” she said quickly, her voice steady but soft. “I was going to say, take your time. Go help her. We’ll cover the bar.”
I stilled. Gratitude flickered in my chest. Her expression was softer than usual, her features touched with worry.
“I know it was Penny,” she added gently. “Go.”
I gave her a firm nod and she released me.
Bursting out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, I broke into a jog toward the flower shop a few blocks away.
My heart pounded in my ears. Sweat gathered along my hairline. I wasn’t a runner, and I was already regretting every cigarette I’d ever smoked because my lungs were on fire.
If anything happened to Sandy, Penny would be devastated. I didn’t want to be the one to give her that kind of news.
Sandy never missed a day. Not once. The only time she ever closed Petal Pusher was when her husband, Hank, passed away—drastic measures.
When I reached the shop, I stepped into the vestibule and yanked on the front door. Nothing. Locked tight. The lights were off.
Pressing my face against the glass, I spotted a soft glow coming from the prep room in the back.
Her purse was on the counter. Her phone, too.
Shit.
Stepping back, I weighed my options. No spare key. No time to wait for emergency service.
I inhaled sharply, bracing myself. Then I raised my leg and kicked the door handle.
It rattled, but the lock held.
I kicked again, harder this time.
Still nothing.
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered, setting my jaw and going for it one last time. I slammed my boot against the lock with everything I had.
Snap.
The lock gave way, and the door opened enough for me to shove my body through. I sprinted toward the back, bursting through the double black doors and into the prep room.
I found Sandy lying on the floor, completely still.
“Sandy,” I called out, dropping to my knees beside her.
She groaned faintly, her eyes fluttering open before slipping closed again.
