Page 16 of Tempt

Gran ends the call and I wait, my patience growing thinner with each passing second.

“Garrett’s truck was lit on fire outside of his apartment last night.” Earlier I had so much to say and now I have nothing. “After midnight he heard something outside right before his truck went up in flames. The sheriff found a bottle with the remnants of a rag covered in flammables. There is no doubt it was arson.”

“Phil,” it is all too coincidental.

“That’s exactly what Garrett told his dad and mom. Only the sheriff says there is no solid evidence.”

“He practically admitted it to me, without saying the words.”

“No more going anywhere alone,” Gran states. It's not a suggestion, and I know better than to argue.

“Okay,” the truth is, I don’t feel safe alone.

“Is Garrett okay?”

“Physically yes,” I’m relieved. “But his mama says he’s hanging on a ledge and wants nothing more than to find Phil and finish what he started at the lake.”

Which all started because of me, and the guilt over it all starts to hang heavy on my shoulders. I look away from Gran and focus on the ground.

“Don’t you for a second lay blame on yourself. Phil and Garrett are both grown. The choices they make are no one's fault but their own.”

I know she’s right, but honestly it does nothing to ease the ache.

“I’m gonna head home and take a bath, I need to relax.”

“Not alone you aren’t,” reaching out Gran takes my keys from my hand and stands. “Looks like you are pulling a double shift.”

With that she walks inside and pauses with the door held open. “Get inside girl, I ain’t playin’.”

CHAPTERTEN

Garrett

“What about this one?”Mike points to the puke green Silverado with the obvious bad repairs to the bedside and grins. The dick has been running around all day picking out truck after truck that he knows I won’t like.

“You asked your big brother to help, and this is me helping.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Never grateful,” he adds looking through the windows of yet another dud.

I continue on ignoring him and he laughs, as he follows.

I asked you to come along and be supportive.”

“This is me supporting you,” I hear the sarcasm in his voice. “I don’t know why you’re so picky.”

“Would you drive even one of the many turds you’ve pointed out so far?”

“Sure,” he shrugs and shuffles along.

The thing is I know better. Mike has my dad’s old Ford, and you’d never guess that it's more than twenty years old. It was in storage for years while he was enlisted and then when he came back he barely got it out. The truck gets cleaned and polished weekly and no one gets to eat inside of it, not even Maddi. He drives an SUV as his family car but his truck, it's babied. I know if something happened to that truck he’d never settle for just anything, and I didn’t plan on it either.

I tell myself it's hopeless and am about to give up when I see a silver Tundra tucked back in the corner of the lot. It is lifted with a set of aftermarket black rims and beefy tires.

Ignoring Mike as he asks me where I’m going I start walking toward it and the closer I get the more I know it's the truck I want.

Moving around the side I looked at the sticker in the window and I’m not surprised by the asking price.

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