by Nash, Willa
Loyalty wasn’t a common theme in my life. I hadn’t had it from my parents or the many strangers who’d drifted in and out over the years as temporary friends. I’d expected it from my husband.
“Fuck him.”
“Fuck him.” Gemma walked to the other side, helping me peel the tarp off the back and fold it into a square. Maybe the gardener could use it for something.
I opened the trunk of the car, the smell of metal and new upholstery wafting into the air. I smiled, taking in the wide space. I’d stowed a lot of things in the trunk once. I’d had it organized and sectioned to perfection. Food on the left side. Clothes and shoes on the right.
I retrieved my suitcase, wheeling it over and loading it in the trunk. “I guess I’ve come full circle. This was my closet once. Now it is again.”
Gemma didn’t laugh. “Please, be careful.”
“It’s only a road trip, Gemma.” I slammed the trunk closed. “I’ll be fine.”
I walked to the driver’s side, opened the door and slid into my seat. The leather scent chased away the stale air. The dash was fairly dust-free given how long this had been sitting unused. I ran my fingers over the smooth white steering wheel.
A 1964 Cadillac DeVille convertible. My pride and joy.
The passenger door opened with a pop and Gemma took her seat.
“Smells good, right?”
She smiled as she shut the door. “A lot better than when you and Karson lived here.”
“Seems like a lifetime ago.”
“It was.” She ran her hand across the white leather seat—smooth as butter and smelling like money.
A lot of money. This car had been no more than rusted scrap when I’d paid to have it hauled from California to Boston. But I’d paid. Every dime put into this car was a dime I’d earned.
Thomas had made me sign a prenup when we’d gotten married. I’d been young and foolish. I hadn’t countered a single term. What the hell had I known about contracts and legal documents?
I’d learned though. Working for his company had taught me a lot. As much as I hated how our marriage had ended, Thomas had given me something invaluable.
An education.
He’d helped me get my GED. Then he’d put me to work. And damn it, I’d worked my ass off. As his assistant, I didn’t run to get his coffee or pick up dry cleaning. I proofread contracts. I built financial projections. I put together presentations for stakeholders and schmoozed potential investors with the best of them.
Thomas gave me rough ideas and projects. I added the polish.
Just like I’d done to this car.
I put the key in the ignition and turned, closing my eyes as the Cadillac rumbled to life. The smile on my face pinched my cheeks.
That glorious sound was my freedom.
I looked over at Gemma just in time to see her dab at the corner of her eye. “No tears,” I said. “This isn’t goodbye.”
“It feels like it,” she whispered. “More than any of the other times, this feels like you won’t be coming back.”
I wasn’t.
“Want to come with me?” I knew the answer but asked anyway.
“I wish I could but . . .” Gemma didn’t need a new life.
“I’ll drive you to your car.” It was parked in the loop in front of the house, but I wanted these last few moments together. I put the Cadillac in drive and inched out of the garage.
The sunshine hit the metal hood. The tires rolled smooth on the driveway. Damn, it felt good to drive. Why had I let this thing sit for so long? The Cadillac had been finished for two years.
The Cadillac’s restoration had taken nearly a year. When it was done, I’d driven it home and parked it in the garage. Besides the rare weekend when I took it out, the weekends Thomas was gone, it had mostly sat idle for two years. Two damn years because Thomas had insisted it would get ruined if I tried to drive this boat in city traffic every day.
I hadn’t wanted to risk an accident, so I’d continued to drive the BMW, wearing my suits and heels. I’d played my part as the refined wife he’d gotten bored with.
All while the Cadillac sat, covered and alone.
Shame on me.
I’d hidden away something important in my life. I couldn’t pin the blame on Thomas either, because I’d forgotten who I was.
Too soon, I inched up to Gemma’s car and put the Cadillac in park. She didn’t get out. Neither did I.
“I’ll call,” I promised.
“You better.” She twisted to me and leaned over for one last hug.
We met in the middle. She gave me a tight squeeze and then she was gone, walking with grace and elegance to her car.
Gemma had grown up in a hovel worse than mine, but she’d always had this regal nature. She’d lived on her own since the tenth grade. She had no Ivy League education or family pedigree. Yet Gemma Lane was pure class.
I hit the button to lower the convertible’s top, smiling wider as the summer air filled my nostrils along with the smell of fresh-cut grass and wind. “I love you, Gem.”
“Love you, Lonny.” She smiled, standing next to her Porsche. Then she raised a pointed finger at my nose. “Call me.”
“I will.” I laughed as she got in her car, slid on sunglasses and waved one last time before racing away.
The sound of her exit faded in the distance and I took a final quiet moment to look at the house I’d called home. The brown brick façade stood tall and stately. The arched double doors were traditional and fancy. The pillars bracketing the porch were pompous.
This house wasn’t me.
But my car was.
I gripped the steering wheel with both hands. It hadn’t always been white, just like the seats hadn’t always been leather.
Had I gone too far with the restoration? Maybe Karson would feel like I’d butchered the thing. But deep in my heart, I believed this was what the car should have looked like in its glory days. This was how it should have been before someone had forgotten its beauty and left it in a junkyard for two teenagers to squat in for a couple of years.
The modern touches, like power windows and an air-ride suspension, were purely a comfort thing. I was glad for them, given I was about to drive across the country.
I hit the gas, speeding out of the loop. When I passed through the exterior gate, I took one final glance in the rearview mirror.
No more gates.
The traffic in the suburbs wasn’t awful, but as I hit the city, things slowed to a crawl. It took an hour for the congestion to break, but break it finally did.
Then I raced.
Karson had always said running away from home was the best decision of his life. I had to agree.
The wind whipped through my hair as I sped along the highway. Just me and my cherry-red Cadillac.
On a runaway road.
Order Runaway Road
Acknowledgments
Thank you for reading The Bribe! This book started as a short story for an anthology. I’d only intended to write about five or six thousand words, and it was going to be its own little entity with a neat and tidy happily ever after within fifteen pages. But the moment I introduced Lucy and Duke in Yellowstone, I knew there had to be more. So here we are, at the beginning of a new series. A new adventure with me, Devney Perry, writing as Willa Nash. Thanks again for reading and I hope you’ll come along with me to more stories in Calamity.
* * *
I’d like to give special thanks to the incredible team who contributed their talents to this book. My editor, Elizabeth Nover. My proofreaders, Julie Deaton, Karen Lawson and Judy Zweifel. My cover designer, Sarah Hansen. Thanks to Danielle Sanchez, my publicist. And to Kimberly Brower, my agent.
* * *
Thanks to Kristen Proby for being Willa Nash’s first fan. To Jennifer Santa Ana and Natasha Tomic for always picking up the phone to talk things through. And thanks to the Goldbrickers for holding me accountable to show up every day for my two thousand words.
* * *
To the bloggers who have taken the time to read and post about my stories, thank you! I am so grateful for all you do. And a huge thanks to the members of Perry Street, whose love and excitement about my books makes me smile every day. I am so blessed to have such wonderful readers.
* * *
And lastly, thank you to my family. To my husband for not looking at me like I was crazy when I dreamed up this idea. And to my kids, who don’t mind a little extra screen time so Mommy can finish writing for the day.
* * *
Will and Nash. This pen name is special for so many reasons, but its inspiration comes from you. You two are the lights of my life.
About the Author
Willa Nash is USA Today Bestselling Author Devney Perry’s alter ego, writing contemporary romance stories for Kindle Unlimited. Lover of Swedish Fish, hater of laundry, she lives in Washington State with her husband and two sons. She was born and raised in Montana and has a passion for writing books in the state she calls home.
Don’t miss out on Willa’s latest book news. Subscribe to her newsletter!
www.willanash.com
Willa loves hearing from her readers.
Connect with her on social media!
Facebook
Instagram
Twitter