Coming Home (The Surrender Trilogy 3)

problem with your paperwork.”

Oh no. “What’s wrong?” It was likely her information. She’d applied for her job at Clemons before Lucian handed over her legal documents. She’d worked a myriad of jobs under false information,

never having paid taxes a day in her life.

“Your social security number belongs to a man who died last April.”

She pretended surprise. It was all a random selection of digits. She hadn’t purposely tried to steal a

dead person’s identity. “It does?”

“Yes, it does,” Mr. Gerhard said with zero amusement.

“I have my card in my bag. Maybe I got the number wrong.”

“I’ll need to see a copy of your card.”

She reached down and produced her identification papers. They were too precious and she’d gone

without for far too long to not carry them everywhere with her. Life was unpredictable, and proof of

identity was a new freedom she’d never had. She slid the papers across his desk.

He examined the documents carefully. “This is nothing close to what you put down.”

“Sorry. I recently moved. I’ve been doing a lot of paperwork and must’ve crossed that number with

a number for something else.”

“I’ll have to copy this and send it down to headquarters.”

Mr. Gerhard seemed to think he worked for the CIA, not a local supermarket . “Sure. But I’ll need the original back.”

“Of course.” His posture relaxed as he tucked the card away. She didn’t like that he was keeping it

for even more than a minute. “How are you enjoying your job so far?”

Aside from missing her lunch and starving and being forced to endure this awkward, private

conversation? “So far so good.”

“Good.”

Several beats of time passed in uncomfortable silence. “Any problems I should know of?”

“Umm . . . no.”

“Good. Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Have you taken lunch yet? I was going to walk down to

Little Sicily’s if you’d—”

Ew!

“I packed my lunch, but thank you.”

He looked regretful. “Perhaps another time.”

Not freaking likely, wax man. “Perhaps,” she said uncomfortably, likely wearing the most insincere smile to ever exist.

Scout stood and made her way to the door without looking back. When she returned to the main area

of the store her appetite vanished. Sighing, she walked back to her register.

“What was that about?” Nick asked from the register beside her. He was folding a receipt in the

shape of a football and proceeded to flick it into a basket at the end of his belt. His voice mimicked

the sound of a crowd screaming in the distance when it reached its goal.

“Something with my paperwork.”

“You look frazzled. He ask you to comb his mustache or something?”

She snorted. “Ew, no! He tried to ask me to lunch though.”

Nick laughed, his blue eyes shutting as his head tilted back. He was her age and definitely made the

days at Clemons go by faster. “That’s great! You too can have a bunch of little farsighted babies with

receding hairlines and hairy lips!”

She threw an apple at him someone had left because it was bruised. “Shut up! It’s not funny.”

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Gerhard.”

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. The rush of customers petered out, and by three o’clock

Scout regretted skipping lunch. She’d contemplated eating her sandwich on the sly at her register, but

Mr. Gerhard appeared to return her social security card and once more obliterated her appetite.

As she walked the three blocks home, she decided she’d eat and then find the DMV so she could

change over her address on her ID. Although she didn’t have a driver’s license, Nick, from work, told

her that was where state IDs came from.

“Scout!”

The sound of her name being shouted so urgently had her jumping. She turned and sucked in a

breath. Parker.

Her teeth locked down as he jogged across the street after her. She turned and quickly walked

toward home. He must have been waiting for her outside of Clemons. He’d helped her apply for her

job and was right to assume she wouldn’t give it up just because her life derailed—derailed partly

because of him.

“Scout, wait!”

“Go away, Parker. I have nothing to say to you.”

Her feet slapped against the pavement as she sped up. She didn’t want to even look at him.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Tough!” She turned the corner and heard him closing on her. Could she just have one day without

assholes from her past stalking her every step?

“Please wait.”

Saying nothing, she marched on, her lips pursed tightly over her clenched teeth and her eyes

narrowed. Parker used to be her best friend, but proved to be nothing but an underhanded schmuck.

“Scout, please—”

Hissing in frustration, she turned on him. “What could you possibly want?”

She gasped. Jesus Christ. His face was a hodgepodge of black and blue bruises. There was a gash

over his left eye and his jaw was discolored with a smattering of ugly green marks. “What the hell

happened to you?”

“Lucian’s what happened to me. Scout, don’t you see? He isn’t safe.”

Her lips tightened. She wasn’t falling into this pissing match. “Well, he isn’t in my life anymore, so