Tempting Fate by Brinda Berry

Tempting Fate by Brinda Berry

Author:Brinda Berry [Berry, Brinda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sweet Biscuit Publishing LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


12

Veronica

I’m at the kitchen table with the phone pressed tightly to my ear. “Shawn’s out of the hospital?”

On the other end of the line, Gunner pauses as if sensing my distress. “He’s out and he’s not telling anyone it was me. He says he doesn’t remember what happened.”

“You know that’s a lie.”

“I don’t care if it is. You need to come home. If he comes near you again, I’ll put him in the ground.”

I sigh. “Gunner. You almost killed him this time.”

We’re both silent for several seconds. Gunner coughs. “He won’t come near you again. I promise.”

“I’ll talk to you later. Take care of yourself. I’ve gotta go.” I press END and cup the phone against my breastbone.

When I was a kid, I had this fantasy I would wake up one day and discover my life was a big mistake. A mistake because my mama really didn’t belong to me and Jerry wasn’t Gunner’s dad. Instead, I belonged to this other family in town, the Browns. I had piles of money stacked away in the closet. My family drove nice cars that didn’t break down and require the Browns’ dad, Peter, to constantly fix them. I wore new clothes to school every fall. I didn’t have to be embarrassed about having a free lunch.

I was a kid and thought money fixed everything.

And then I got older and realized I wouldn’t trade my step-brother Gunner for all the money in the world. Some of Jerry’s old crew tried to lure Gunner into taking up where Jerry left off. They must’ve thought, ‘Like father like son.’ I heard Gunner talking to them one night at the store when Grandpa still owned it.

“Stay away from me and stay away from Veronica. I don’t need your money. I’m not Jerry. You come here again and I’m calling the cops.” He’d stood as tall and formidable as a seventeen-year-old is able.

They left.

Now, I sit in the kitchen trying to decide my next move. Ironically, money is the basic problem I have after spending years denying I cared anything about it. I left home, running from my problems, five days ago without the sense to grab my savings.

I pull air into my lungs with an effort.

Come on, pull up the big-girl panties.

“Has that cup of coffee done something really bad to you?” Collin’s smooth voice snaps me out of my trance.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been giving the cup a dirty look for five minutes.”

I snort. “I’m thinking.”

Collin pulls out the seat nearest me and sits. “You have a minute?”

“Oh yeah. Lots of minutes.” If anything can make my day rewind and start better than my brooding thoughts, it’s looking at this guy. Collin’s wearing a black T-shirt that molds to his chest. He hasn’t shaved, or maybe the five o’clock shadow is on purpose. It’s the sort you want to rub up against. He wears his confidence like a subtle cologne. He doesn’t smile a lot. He just smolders with his intense gaze. Yes, he has the smoldering down pat.



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