Page 36 of The Wrong One

“I can help you,” he offered.

“It’s okay.” I smiled. “He’s just being obnoxious. He’s going to get tired of the chase. He’ll move on. I’m sure he’s already got a string of women lined up to comfort him.”

“If he gives you any trouble, I want to know about it,” he said. “If you want the calls to stop, tell me. I have no problem threatening him. I’ve got a good lawyer and I’ll hire another twenty. I’m not going to jail, but I’m going to make sure he knows he’s not going to fuck with my family.”

“Thank you.” I smiled. “I’m okay.”

“If you think he’s pushing too hard, or if you get a bad feeling about his messages, tell me,” he said. “I’m serious. Don’t wait until something happens.”

“I will,” I promised. “Thank you.”

I left his office and headed for the lab.

Cam looked up when I walked in. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” I smiled. “I guess Patrick texted him.”

“I was there,” he said. “What’s going on?”

I shook my head. “Patrick just keeps texting and calling. I’m not engaging. I guess he thought the way to go was through Ramsey.”

“Moron,” Cam scoffed. “As if that was a good idea.”

“I know,” I agreed. “I hate that he’s dragging Ramsey into this thing.”

“Ramsey can handle himself,” Cam said. “You know he’s going to put Patrick in his place.”

“Which is why I didn’t tell him anything,” I said.

“It’s bound to come out,” he warned. “You should tell him.”

“I will eventually. But he doesn’t need to know all the specific details.”

“Okay.” He nodded.

I walked to my workstation and sat down. We worked for about an hour before Cam spoke up. “Do you still like going to the old horror drive-in like in high school?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think that place is open anymore. I certainly never went when I was in California. I think drive-ins have gone by the wayside.”

“They still have one here,” he said.

“Do you remember that time I snuck into the back of Ramsey’s truck?” I asked with a laugh.

“I don’t think you can call that bucket of rusty bolts and metal a truck,” he said with a groan. “What did he pay for that thing?”

“Two-hundred bucks,” I answered. “He fixed it up.”

Cam raised his eyebrows. “If by fixed it up you mean he made it legal to drive on the road, maybe.”

“You guys used that thing to take girls to the movies all the time,” I said. “It might have been a bucket of bolts, but you didn’t mind when you were getting hot and heavy in the back.”

“You don’t know that’s true,” he argued with no real effort.

“I was there, remember?” I grinned.

He smirked. “That’s right. The stowaway. If I remember that night, it was Ramsey in the back getting hot and heavy,” he said.

“Because you were sitting up front with me.” I laughed.

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