Gavin's Song (Road to Salvation A Last Rider's Trilogy 1)

“Stop, Penni. I don’t want you to ask him to read my music.”

“Why not?”

“I just write music when I’m bored, so don’t make more out of it than there is.”

“But—”

Ginny took the boxes out of her arms. “No buts. You can slide the door down; these is the last of my things and we’re done talking about this.”

“I get you.” Penni raised her hands in surrender. “I won’t say another word. Let’s go grab some lunch.”

Ginny hadn’t believed her for a second. They had been in the drive-thru of a chicken restaurant when Penni had started hounding her about letting Kaden read her songs. That had been a month ago, and Penni still brought it up when she saw or texted her. Penni’s spirit animal is a bulldog, Ginny thought ironically, taking another sip of her wine.

“What did you mean when you said you didn’t find him in time?”

“I think he’s gone—returned home.”

“You think he’s dead?”

“Yes, that’s why I don’t watch unhappy or romantic movies because they make me sad.”

“Watching murder shows doesn’t get you upset?”

“No, they teach me how not to make mistakes that could get me killed.”

Taking a sip of her wine, Gianna started coughing, lifting watery eyes to hers. “You think someone is going to murder you?”

“Not really. But if they try, I want to be prepared.”

“Do all Kentuckians think like you?”

“You know how Kentuckians say good-bye?”

Ginny saw the muscles in Gianna’s throat work as she swallowed a gulp of frightened air.

“No. How?”

“They say, ‘Be careful.’ We always expect something bad to happen and are happy when we see that nothing did.”

“O … kay …,” Gianna drawled out. “That’s just weird as fuck. No one expects something bad just because someone leaves.”

“Kentuckians do.” Ginny nodded seriously. “They’re very superstitious. At least, the smaller, mountain towns are. Here’s another one: on Halloween night, look in the mirror on the cellar steps, and you’ll see the man you’ll marry.”

Ginny burst out laughing at Gianna’s expression.

Her roommate laughed, too, going to fridge for the wine and bringing the bottle back.

“Marry a man in January, you’ll always be poor; February, you’ll be wed again; March, you made a good catch; April, you’ll be crying soon.”

Their giggles filled the apartments until they were wiping of tears of laughter away and the wine bottle was empty.

Searching for a movie they both could enjoy about scatterbrained cops battling a zombie apocalypse, Gianna looked toward her before pressing Play. “Don’t give D’mon my number.”

“I think that’s a wise choice.” Ginny saluted her with her wineglass.

“Why?”

“Because you love mayo; that’s kind of a big thing to overcome.”

“Maybe so, but if mayo doesn’t cough up a diamond nugget, I’m switching to mustard.”

* * *

“Any luck?”

Ginny closed the car door, letting Gianna accelerate back into the flow of traffic before answering. “They told me that they would be in touch.”

She released a sigh of frustration. She needed a job and soon, positive the fast food restaurant with the Hiring Now signs posted throughout the store next to Gianna’s bank was a slam dunk. They’d given her a maybe, and I’ll get back to you.

Turning her blinker on, Gianna turned down a side street. “I wish you would reconsider applying at my bank.”

“No, thanks. I don’t have any experience working at banks.” Ginny had refused the offer since the second week she moved in with Gianna. Her roommate was as persistent as Penni when she wanted to push her in a direction they wanted her to go.

“Are you sure it’s not out of your way to let me drop off my key card to Penni?” Changing the subject, Ginny hoped to divert yet another round of Gianna’s assurances that it didn’t matter she had no experience since the bank offered training. She was too wary of the required background checks to put her neck on the line needlessly. She would find another job. She just had to be patient and not make a reckless decision.

“I told you I didn’t mind. I’m free for the rest of the day. Besides, it’s just a few blocks away.” Turning into a parking garage, Gianna raised her hand to flash a finger at the driver behind her. After a loud honk, a large sedan flew past, nearly taking out Gianna’s bumper.

“You didn’t use your blinker,” Ginny reprimanded as they parked.

“He shouldn’t be going so fast,” Gianna countered.

Gianna’s driving skills reflected her personality—she took no prisoners.

Pressing the elevator button, Ginny waited to press the floor number until Gianna walked into the elevator with her. “Are you sure you didn’t want to wait in the car? I’m only going to be a few minutes.”

“If you go in there alone, you’ll be all day. Penni’s going to talk you to death, and I’m hungry. You’re going to love my favorite restaurant. Chris hates seafood and won’t go with me.”