“What do you want, Lindsey?”
She looked down at Chad, who had yet to leave her side, and whispered, “Maybe you should ask him.”
“Gabe is Jacob’s best friend after Adam.”
“After Adam?” She blinked at Chad, wondering if he’d lost his mind.
“Yes. Adam and Jacob have been best friends for a very long time.”
Well, hell. No wonder Jacob looked so defeated. If she had a best friend like Adam . . . But, wait. She did have a best friend who’d utterly betrayed her. She hadn’t talked to Vanessa in months, and doubted she’d ever speak to her again, but she still cared about her. She might have even bailed her out of jail, if such an act was necessary.
“Did you want something, Lindsey?” Gabe asked from his position near the desk.
“I want someone to get Jacob out of here.” Anyone would do. Maybe she could start a GoFundMe campaign on the Internet, and Sole Regret’s fans could pool their money. Of course, the fans were pretty pissed at him for breaking up the band. She wondered if even his biggest fans would contribute a dime.
“Melanie will divorce me if I bail him out,” Gabe said.
“You’re not even married yet,” Lindsey reminded him.
“She’d marry me ASAP and then immediately divorce me.”
“I wouldn’t divorce you,” Melanie said. “But you would be sleeping on the sofa with the dogs for a month or two.”
“Doesn’t anyone care about him?” Lindsey blurted.
She fumed, trying to think of a way to come up with bail money on her own. She wasn’t leaving this police station until Jacob was free. If she had to go out on the street and beg for spare change, she’d do it. Owen had left with Caitlyn, and Gabe was nearly through being processed, when a pretty blonde stepped up to the counter and said, “I’m here for Jacob Silverton.”
The woman was wearing shorts that showed off a pair of long tanned legs. Lindsey envied that she could look down and see her feet.
“I thought you dumped him,” Gabe said to the woman.
She ignored him.
“Does this mean you still care?” Gabe continued. “Because you broke his fucking heart, lady.”
She continued to ignore him.
“That’s not his ex-wife,” Lindsey thought aloud. There was some resemblance, but his wife, Tina, was overdone to the point of trashiness, and this woman appeared almost wholesome.
“That’s his sister-in-law. Amanda,” Chad said.
“Ex-sister-in-law,” Lindsey said. She refused to believe Jacob was actually back with the wife he’d rightly divorced years ago.
“I don’t want to see him,” Amanda said to the clerk. “I just want to make sure he’s released. Does he have to know it was me who bailed him out?”
“There’s a provision on his release that someone has to vouch for him,” the clerk said, “or they’ll process him through to a jailcell from holding.”
“You can use my name,” Lindsey blurted, shouldering her way through the few remaining in their crowd and coming to stand next to Amanda. “I’d be happy to sign for him. I just don’t have the money.”
Amanda did a good job of not looking at Lindsey’s belly directly.
“Are you a friend of his?” she asked.
“I wish. I’m just a huge fan,” Lindsey gushed, her hand pressing against her abdomen. And maybe the mother of his child. The baby kicked her palm, either agreeing or protesting the idea. Or maybe she was just stretching.
“How did you find out he was here?” Gabe asked. “Listening to the police scanner?”
Amanda shook her head. “My sister called my mom all upset that Jacob had been arrested and ranting about him running off without telling her and that she planned to leave him in jail for as long as they’d keep him. I happened to be there when she was going off on the phone.”
“So are you bailing him out to piss off your sister or because you still care about him?” Gabe asked.
“I think that’s obvious,” Amanda said, not looking at Gabe as she dug a wad of cash out of her purse.
“I should tell him that you bailed him out,” Gabe said.
“Please don’t.” Amanda finally looked him in the eye. “It’ll just make it harder for him to move on.”
“He’s already moved on. With your leech of a sister.”
Amanda nodded and handed the cash to Lindsey. “Thanks for doing this.” She squeezed Lindsey’s forearm and then backed away. She turned and hurried toward the exit.
“Amanda?” Gabe called after her. “What are you running from?”
She didn’t answer. She was already gone.
“Why are you harassing her?” Melanie asked.
“Because Adam might have broken Jacob, but that woman destroyed him.”
Lindsey was puzzled. If Amanda held Jacob in such low regard, why had she handed over five thousand dollars in cash to bail him out of jail? Maybe it was to get back at her sister, but that would be pretty expensive payback . And maybe the possibility of having a new baby wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to Jacob in the past few weeks.
Lindsey happily handed over the five grand—though secretly she’d have liked to invest the money to see how much she could have made it grow. Her simulated day trader account was already up twelve percent in less than a month, so she couldn’t help but wonder how well she might do if she invested real money. Her confidence to return to the job she’d loved, despite the stress, was growing, but she doubted she’d ever get a chance to invest professionally again. Better, more experienced investment bankers had been permanently ousted from the profession. Maybe she should read up on what they did with their careers after a stumble.
With his bail paid, Jacob was soon released to Lindsey’s care, but once she had him, she didn’t know what to do with him.
The two of them stood in silence on the top of the steps outside the building while Chad wheeled around the ramp. Jacob’s hands were crammed into the front pockets of his jeans, and he toed at a spot on the concrete. He seemed so lost. Lindsey wished she knew how to help him find himself again, but she didn’t even know how to find herself.
“I’d offer you a place to stay,” she said, “but I don’t think Owen would appreciate it.”
“I thought you were with Chad,” Jacob said, his gaze shifting to the ramp behind her.
“I am. Sort of. We’re both mooching off your bassist.” She laughed.
“I’m sure he’s fine with that. Owen likes sticking his neck out for people.”
“Any chance you and Adam can patch things up?” she asked.
“No.” He pulled a hand out of his pocket and extended it in her direction. She shook it awkwardly. “I’ll get that money back to you as soon as I can.”
“It wasn’t my mo—” She caught herself before she let Amanda’s secret slip. “Muh . . . muh . . . mum’s idea.” Wow, that didn’t make any sense. Terrible save, Lindsey. She coughed. “It was muh, muh, my idea, so no rush. Just pay me back whenever you get the chance. Or when the county returns the amount to you. Just don’t miss your court date, or we’re both in trouble.” And someone would permanently lose five thousand bucks.
“Are you coming, Lindsey?” Chad called up from the bottom of the steps where he sat watching them.
“Coming!” But before she could take a single step, Jacob caught her arm.
“I hope that baby isn’t mine for your sake,” he said. “I can’t seem to do right by anyone.”
“Not even your daughter? What’s her name?”
“Julie.” His face softened slightly, but after a few seconds, he shook his head. “She’s probably better off without me too.”
“You don’t believe that.”
He raked a hand through his short black hair and stared over her head.
“Well, I don’t believe that.”
If she tried really hard, she could picture him up on stage—a microphone in one hand—singing with every piece of his soul. He touched so many lives wi
th Sole Regret’s music—didn’t he understand how much he meant to people? If as many people cared that she was alive, she was sure she’d look a lot less miserable than he did at that moment.
“You know, if this baby isn’t yours, then it’s Adam’s.”
He cringed. “Then maybe I do hope it’s mine.”
He’d only said maybe, but it lifted her spirits. He obviously loved his daughter, so why wouldn’t he love another?
“It’s a girl, by the way.”
“Not sure how I’d manage being wrapped around two little fingers at once.” He chuckled and took her elbow to help her navigate the steps.
“Are you going to go home?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll stay at my place for a few days. It’s still on the market. Probably because someone keeps stealing the For Sale sign out of my yard.”
He scratched his jaw.
“If you need to talk to someone, you can call me,” she said. “I’ll try to be as unbiased as possible, but honestly, I’m hoping Sole Regret will sort out its difference and give me more music to love.” Because she was still fangirling over them and their music. That hadn’t changed. She might hide it a little better, but it blew her mind that she was getting to know these guys personally.
“Thanks for the offer.”
He didn’t ask her for her number. Instead, he reached out a hand in Chad’s direction. Chad didn’t shake it, however, because he was too busy frowning at them like they’d been making out rather than having a civilized, friendly conversation.
“Good to see you, Chad,” Jacob said, dropping his hand. “I wanted to say hi at the party, but I was hoping to get out of there without Adam seeing me.”
So, Jacob hadn’t been running from Lindsey and her DNA swab; he’d been avoiding Adam.
“Lindsey’s with me,” Chad said, taking her hand.
“I noticed.”
“I just want that to be clear. If the kid is yours, I’m not stepping aside for you. She’s still with me.”
Lindsey squeezed Chad’s damp hand. “I think Jacob has enough problems with his other baby mama to ever consider getting involved with another one.”
Jacob chuckled. “She’s right, but it wouldn’t matter. I can tell she’s totally into you, man.”
“Totally!” Lindsey said in her best Valley girl impersonation.
The tension drained from Chad’s face, but he didn’t release the grip on her fingers. “And I plan on raising that baby as my own.”
“Chad, if he wants—”
“As my own.” Chad cut off Lindsey’s protest and dropped her hand before spinning his chair and wheeling himself down the sidewalk to where they’d parked—not in a handicapped spot at his insistence.
Jacob and Lindsey exchanged concerned looks.
“I’d better talk to him,” she said. “See you, Jacob.”
“Later, Lindsey.”
Chad had already folded his wheelchair and stuffed it into the back seat of the Jeep by the time Lindsey caught up with him. It was amazing what he could accomplish when he set his mind to it, especially when he was pissed off.
“I apologize,” he said when she stopped behind him. “What I said was completely out of line.”
“You’re allowed to have feelings and even to express them from time to time.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
He opened the driver’s side door and grabbed the roll bar to swing himself into the car.
“You’re driving?” she asked.
“Get used to it,” he grumbled. “I don’t like being taxied around like a goddamned invalid.”
She ducked her head and smiled to herself. If Chad ever faltered on his path to recovery, all she had to do was make him feel something strongly enough to piss him off and he’d blast through any milestone. She doubted he even realized that by bottling up his emotions, he gave others ammunition against him. She was sure he thought the exact opposite, that burying his feelings made him invulnerable.
“I can barely reach the pedals anyway,” she said. “I have to push the seat way far back to fit my belly behind the wheel.”
He grunted his acknowledgement.
“But I’m not getting into the car until you kiss me.”
She placed her hands on the top of the door, where the window had been lowered completely, and leaned in, lips poised.
She half expected him to protest being bossed around by the likes of her, but he cupped the back of her head and kissed her until her knees went weak. When he pulled away, all the anger and confusion in his gaze had melted into lust and something stronger she was too afraid to hope was real.
“Get in the car, angel,” he murmured, stroking his thumb over her cheek as he gazed into her eyes.
Once they had settled into the Jeep, Lindsey drew a small spiral-bound notebook out of her purse and flipped to a blank page. At the top she wrote I owe Amanda, and beneath that she scrawled: Jacob’s bail $5000. Under that line she added (potentially reimbursed). She then flipped back several pages and added a new line item to one of several I Owe Owen pages: gas to courthouse $15. She went ahead and added that day’s rent expense while she was at it.
“What are you writing?” Chad asked, and she lifted her gaze to find him watching her suspiciously.
She closed the notebook, but he snatched it out of her hand. “Is it about me?”
“It’s none of your business,” she said, snatching the notebook back and shoving it into her purse.
“It is about me.”
“It’s not,” she said. “Not today, anyway. Are we going or not?”
“I just realized I have a slight problem,” he said. “Owen’s Jeep has a manual transmission.”
“You can’t drive a stick? Seriously? I thought all tough guys drove sticks.” A second later she slapped a hand over her mouth when she realized why he couldn’t drive a stick and because she’d unthinkingly teased him about it.
“I don’t think I can work three pedals with one foot, no,” he said.
“Sorry. I didn’t think.”
“Actually, I’m glad you didn’t think not to tease me. Reinforces that you aren’t fixated on my shortcomings.”
She leaned over to kiss him tenderly. “What shortcomings?”
He tapped her nose with one fingertip. “Just for that, I’m going to try those damned crutches when I get home.”
He hadn’t wanted to try them again since he’d tripped and fallen at physical therapy several days ago. She loved how he used her as an excuse to make strides in his recovery. She didn’t mind being his scapegoat one bit.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I’ll drive.” She hopped out of the car.
He scooted from the driver’s seat to the passenger seat—somehow avoiding a stick shift up the ass—and was rifling through her purse when she got into the car again.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing what you were writing about me,” he said, pulling out her IOU notebook. “May I?” he asked.
She jerked it out of his hand. “No, you may not. And I already told you it isn’t about you. If you must know, it’s a list of all the money I owe people. You aren’t in there much. Unless you think I should be paying you for your lovemaking services. Then I probably owe you ten grand or something.” She tossed the notebook at him, and it landed on his lap, open to a page filled with line items and summations. She reached over to close the cover, but his quick scan of the page had revealed enough.
“My brother charges you for water and electricity and gas and food?” he bellowed. “I’m going to whip his ass when I see him. He was raised better than that.”
“Owen doesn’t charge me. I just keep track so I can pay him back one day.”
“He doesn’t want you to pay him back.”
“How do you know? Are you him?” She gave him a hard stare. “I didn’t think so.”
She started the Jeep and ground the gears as she wrestled the stick into reverse.
&nb
sp; Chad flipped open the notebook to a random page and pretended to write with his fingertip. “Transmission for 2014 Jeep Wrangler: two thousand dollars.”
She growled at him and squealed the tires as she peeled out of the parking spot.
He started a new imaginary line. “Set of four new tires: twelve hundred dollars.”
“Stop,” she said.
“Excess air from angry breathing: seventy-five cents.”
“Don’t make fun of me, Chad.”
“This is ridiculous. No one is expecting you to pay them back. Don’t you know it’s better to give than to receive?”
“I do know that. Because when you receive too much, you feel like you owe even more.” And all that debt—real and imagined—was crushing her.
“So pay it forward, angel, not backward.”
She scowled at the dense traffic that prevented her from pulling out of the parking lot.
“What are you talking about?” she snapped.
“Accept Owen’s generosity, and when you’re in a better position, don’t pay him back—give to someone else without expecting anything in return.”
“And you think I’m ridiculous.” She was too angry—or embarrassed—to see any wisdom in his suggestion. How would helping someone else repay Owen?
“I think this notebook is ridiculous,” he said, and he tossed it out the window.
“Chad! Get out and pick that up.”
“I won’t.”
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. She shifted into neutral before pulling the emergency brake. The car behind her honked, and its impatient driver waved toward the street, which was finally clear. She didn’t let his impatience deter her from getting out of the Jeep. The car zoomed around them, nearly knocking her over as it squealed into traffic and earned the well-deserved blare of a horn. By the time Lindsey waddled around to the passenger side and spotted her notebook, Chad had opened his door.
“Get back in the car, Lindsey,” he said.
“After I get my notebook.” She’d been keeping meticulous records for weeks.
Just as she bent to retrieve it, a foot stepped on top of it.
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