Page 40 of Brittle Heart

“Sure, whatever.” She sighs, reaching for her temple with a pained expression.

The simple gesture shows how much this whole thing has exhausted her. The Carolina I got to know this past week would never simply submit to Clay.

“Let’s get you two home,” I say, guiding them out of the room.

The walk out to the patrol car is quiet, yet the air is thick with tension. I want to say something so badly—ask so many questions—but I know it will only be met with hostility, and there has been enough stress for Carolina for one night.

As they fasten their seat belts in the backseat, Carolina says, “I never imagined I’d end up in a police car.”

Clay chuckles. “Yeah, and Chiara managed to score a ride twice in one night.” I give him an elbow nudge. “What? Too soon?” he teases.

“Where do you live?” I ask, starting the car and glancing at Carolina in the rearview mirror.

“You can just drop us off somewhere in Harlem,” she says.

My brows furrow. “Nonsense. Give me your address.”

Chiara is the one who rattles it off, and I get why Carolina hesitated. It’s a notorious street lined with filthy old buildings. A place where we frequently respond to shootings.

The drive is quiet, with only the soft hum of music from the radio filling the car.

“Thank you for not freaking out and handling this so well,” I hear Chiara whisper.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll get an earful when we get home,” Carolina whispers back.

I smile to myself and glance at Clay, who is already grinning.

Pulling up to the building, Chiara steps out of the car, murmuring a quick “Thank you.”

Carolina, however, lingers a moment, the unbuckled seat belt in her hand. “Thank you for getting her. My sister isn’t typically the type to get into trouble. I’ll make sure you won’t see her in a police car again.”

Clay chuckles. “Don’t worry, we all did stuff like that when we were teenagers. This won’t lead her into a life of crime.”

She nods and exits the car. Then we watch as they enter the shabbiest fucking building on the street.

While I start the car again, Clay huffs. “Sister. God, I was going nuts trying to do the math on how she could be her mother.”

I nod. “Did you see where they live? And we just made it harder for her by another four hundred, which looked like all the money she had.”

“I know, I hated it. But we couldn’t fine the other bitch of a mother and not her. Taking back the penalty after it’s already been issued isn’t so easy either,” he says.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Carolina

It’s Monday afternoon, and I’m working on a case with Sophia, but my mind is still stuck on what went down Saturday night. I can’t believe Chiara did that. I mean, yeah, it wasn’t a major screwup. They’re just dumb teenagers, and it’s normal for them to sneak out for parties. But getting busted by the police and ending up at the very station I work at, thanks to my boss’s brother and friend? That’s just insane.

And let’s not forget the embarrassment of scraping together every last penny I had. I can still see the pity in Josh’s eyes, and I don’t want to face him again, but I know it’s inevitable.

Now they’ve seen where I live too. I’m so fucking embarrassed by this whole situation that I actually thought about skipping my internship and dropping out of college.

Howie would definitely welcome me and save me a spot by his side. But then Chiara would suffer, which brings me right back to why I’m caught up in this goddamn mess called my life.

I swear, that girl is so damn lucky I love her.

I visited Howie yesterday before my shift at the bar to fill him in on getting my job back and tell him about our little escapade with the cops.

He just cracked up laughing and said, “Well, at least you’ll be free from that boy if Chiara’s smart enough to dump his sorry ass after ditching her.”

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