Complicated by Avery Adams

Author:Avery Adams [Avery Adams]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-11-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter ten

Robbie

I'm going to Hawaii! I'm going to Hawaii! And I'm going with Phillip! I feel like I'm walking on air. We can't get back home fast enough for me— but, at the same time, the miles fly by. We fuel up in Wichita Falls, and he tops it off again, despite my protests. It's almost midnight and my eyelids are starting to get heavy when he pulls into a driveway I don't recognize. "Where—"

"Are we?" I nod, and he answers, "My place."

"Oh. I didn't know you were serious about leaving it here. I don't want it to be in the way. We can—"

"If you're going to say we can park it at your family's house, think about what you're saying."

I draw a blank. "Okay? I thought about it. And?"

"What if Rinna and Josh return before we do?"

I nibble my lip. "You think they might? It sounded like they planned on staying until Mexico threw them out. That ring, alone—"

"Isn't worth what she thinks it is."

Caught off-guard, and suddenly so much more awake than I was, I unfasten my seatbelt and turn sideways in my seat, "What do you mean?"

He sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. "This might not make me sound that great, but a few months back, she lost the diamond in her ring…"

"Lost lost or," I make quotes with my fingers, "lost, as in she sold it?"

"Oh, she sold it."

"And you know this how…"

He shoots me a look. "I'm not an idiot."

I mean mug him back. "I didn't think you were, but pretend I am. How did you discover she sold it?"

"It was a pricey ring, so it was inscribed so I could insure it."

"Inscribed?"

"It had an identifying number engraved on it."

"Oh!" I laugh, delighted, "Of course, it did! And that answers a question that has always bugged me."

"What question is that?"

"How someone would know the jewelry they got back after a heist was theirs."

"Heist?" He snickers. "How much jewelry are we talking about here?"

"Heist, theft. Tomayto, tomahto." I stick my tongue out and return to the original topic of our conversation, "So, what happened? Did she sell it to a legit dealer? A shady street dealer? A pawn shop?"

He arches a brow and smirks at me, "You know an awful lot about selling stolen goods…"

I nod, "I watch a lot of crime shows, and it's called fencing."

Nose in the air, he huffs, "As someone very wise said a few minutes ago, tomayto, tomahto."

"Oh, good grief," I roll my eyes. "Now, fast-forward through the ad and get to the good part— tell me how you got it back. You did get it back, didn't you?"

"Fast-forward through the ad?"

There's a gleam of amusement in his eye, so I know he's messing with me, but I play along, "You know, like when you want to watch a series but you can't afford to pay for monthly streaming, so you pick a network with ads? The good ones let you skip the crap-o-mercials on occasion.

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