“Was Graham right? Are you worried about LeAnn?”
She scoffed and sat back. “Why do you both think that all of a sudden? Of course I worry about what she might do, but I don’t focus on her like I did while she was trying to destroy us. I honestly think she’ll do anything to avoid jail, like I’ve told you before.”
I studied her for a while, then sighed, feeling defeated. “Fine. If you say there’s nothing wrong, then there’s nothing wrong.”
She looked at me again and shook her head. “I just want to go upstairs, curl up in your arms, and pretend like today never happened as I fall asleep. Okay?”
“Okay, Grey,” I said softly. “Let’s get you in bed, then.”
I followed her up the stairs and watched her as we both got ready for bed. After washing her face and stripping down until she was wearing only a thin tank top and her underwear, she climbed into bed and immediately curled into a ball against my chest. I looked down and couldn’t help but notice that she still looked like something was on her mind even with her eyes closed. Almost like her entire body was tight even after she’d relaxed onto the bed. Wrapping my arms tightly around her, I rested my chin against the top of her head, and exhaled heavily when I felt the tightness in her body slowly relax. No matter what she said, I couldn’t dismiss the way she’d looked all night and knew I would do everything to find out what was wrong if she was still the same the next day.
Chapter 18
Grey
November 12, 2014
MY FACE FELL right along with my heart when Mrs. Easton walked up to the counter at work. She looked around like she was genuinely trying to decide what to get, without ever looking at me. But from the sly smile on her face, I could tell that she knew I was there, and I knew why she was there. It had been another month and a half since her last visit to The Brew, and for a second I wondered if this was what I’d have to continue to expect until I figured out what to do. Every six weeks, her showing up at my place of work, asking for money. Because her man took off with everything, because her son wasn’t hers at all, but allegedly Jagger’s . . . and whatever else she had waiting to dump on me.
“I’ll take . . . four,” she mused, and then glanced down at me with a coy smile.
“Four what?”
“Oh, now don’t go playing stupid with me, Grey. You and I both know what.”
I ground my jaw for a few seconds before giving her the same smile she was giving me. “Four dollars? Sure, I’ll give you that in cash this time.”
“Don’t try to act smart.”
“That’s an insane amount of money,” I hissed, leaning forward so my voice wouldn’t carry. “I don’t even make enough to give you what I have already given—”
“I knew you had access to his money,” she bit out, cutting me off.
I didn’t. But I also didn’t want to tell her I was taking the money out of my savings, because then she would think she could get even more from me. “I don’t have that kind of money, and the fact that you think you can keep raising the price is ridiculous.”
“My grandson had to go the ER, Jagger should be footing that bill. And since you already know what will happen if Jagger finds out the truth about Keith, I guess you know what that means for you, don’t you?”
Unfortunately, I did. “I want to see the birth certificate and papers giving you custody.”
Without missing a beat, Mrs. Easton shrugged her
shoulders. “Fine. Come on over sometime . . . without my son. I’ll show you myself. Or you could always just ask Charlie,” she added with a wicked smile.
I already had asked Charlie, and it hadn’t gone over well at all. She had just given me a shocked look and wanted to know who was asking—but never actually gave me a yes-or-no answer. And judging from the smile she was giving me, Mrs. Easton knew I’d been asking around. I hated that there wasn’t any sign that she was lying. “I don’t have the money.”
“You better figure—”
“I’ll give you what I gave you last time. And then I don’t want you to come asking me for money again. I’m done after this, understand?”
Mrs. Easton’s wicked smile turned triumphant and she took a step away. “Your shift here is almost over, correct?” When I didn’t respond, she turned around and called out, “I’ll be waiting outside.”
My boss, Anne, came up beside me and bumped my shoulder. “Hey.”
“Hey!” I said too brightly.
“Did that person not want anything or . . .” She trailed off, leaving me to fill in the blank.
“Oh, no. It’s, uh, Jagger’s mom. She just came to talk to me about something, sorry about that.”