“Wonderful,” I say. “Now, you going to tell me?”
He makes a noncommittal grunt. “I don’t want to ruin your vacation. You’ll be back in a few days, anyway.”
My laugh is so loudly exasperated that a bland looking girl ahead of us in line turns to shoot me an unimpressed look.
“Then why call me at all?” I demand. “But I’m not coming back in a few days.”
Wynona’s hand in mine, so soft and gentle, tracing circles with the pad of her thumb in my palm, doesn’t calm me down. Nothing short of a full bottle of whiskey would at this point. What the fuck did Mary do?
“We decided to extend our vacation,” I explain.
Another grunt. “Can you change it back?”
“No,” I growl. “And I wouldn’t if I could.”
“All right. I should probably just tell you.”
“No shit.”
“Don’t take that tone with me,” he growls. “I was trying to look out for you.”
“By calling me up to tell me that my ex is on the warpath but not telling me how?”
“Kyra thought I should tell you,” he grumbles. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“Okay,” I say.
He sighs. “It’s your car.”
“No,” I say. “I had it parked—”
“In your building’s basement parking garage, I know. There’s video camera footage and everything. But we think she wore a black hoodie—original, I know—and went to town on your car with a crowbar. By the time the security guard ran out... it was too late.”
“Shit.” I scowl. “At least I have insurance.”
“That’s the thing.” Landon already sounds apologetic. “Apparently, you called and converted your plan to practically nothing. Basically, the lowest you can get with it still being legal.”
Shock hits me like a baseball glove around my throat.
“Emerson?” he says.
“I didn’t—”
“We know,” he says, sounding tired enough for the both of us. “And we tried explaining that to your insurance company, but it’s no dice. They refuse to do anything, at least not until you go talk to them in person. Same with the police.”
For a few seconds, the only word that can come to mind is, “Fuck...”
“I’m sorry,” Landon continues.
“But what makes you think it was Mary if whoever did it wore a hoodie?” I ask.
“Whoever it was scratched out THAT’S WHAT YOU GET. You made any other enemies lately?”
My teeth grit. I have to loosen my grip on Wynona so my fingers don’t dig into her. “No. Just the one. Damn it, she was right here and... I guess she got some guy to make that call to change my insurance?”
“That’s what we’re thinking,” Landon says. “Though the police should be able to make more out of it than us. It’s a real mess.”
“Shit,” I say.
“Yeah.”
I stand there, thinking.
Wynona’s blue eyes are wide with concern, but I’ll explain everything to her soon enough.
Right now, I have to make a decision.
One that doesn’t require much thought. I’ve made up my mind already.
“My car can wait an extra week,” I tell Landon. “The plane tickets can’t be changed anyway.”
Which isn’t necessarily untrue. Or true.
I just haven’t checked.
“Emerson—” Landon starts.
“I’ve made up my mind,” I say. “Thanks for letting me know. But I’m not changing my plans.”
“Just think about it,” he says finally, probably having caught the stubborn Storm note in my voice.
“I will,” I say. “Talk later.”
After I hang up, I quickly relay everything to Wynona, whose eyes widen with every new revelation.
“Jesus,” she says at the end, clasping me tighter. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I say. “It’s my fault—and Mary’s. I should’ve caught on to how she was earlier. Everyone else seemed to.”
Wynona casts a wistful glance my way. “When we care about someone, we often see only what we want to.”
I look away angrily. “But that’s just it. I thought I was crazy about her all that time, but when I met you...” I exhale. “I remembered what being crazy about someone actually felt like.”
“Ooh, you,” she says happily.
She moves a little closer, hooking her fingers through the belt loops of my jeans as she gets a vague look in her eyes. “Sometimes, we wait so long for the person that when an almost comes around, or even less, we jump into it. We stick around as it goes from bad to worse. We make-believe our way through it until we’re stuck or they leave or we do and we promise to learn from it, only the loneliness is so very scary sometimes...”
At the last part, her voice drops to a murmur, more to herself than me.
She rests her eyes on me as if remembering that I’m here. “I was really good that first year, you know. Got myself back together again. And you know what did it?”
I look at her and shake my head.
She lets go of my belt loops and smiles a smile that would be ugly on anyone else. “Rage. Revenge. I wanted to get myself so together, it’d make you so very sorry. Make you regret what you did. And it worked. I got my business together in less than six months. Got my dog and had him housebroken in a week. It was all going well until Josie thought I was well enough to be set up with a friend’s brother. And then...”