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“There is nothing to work out. This is the end. You and your friend Lacy here are done, and I am going to skip town. Whispers is a shit town, and Tanner is an asshole for choosing you over me. Overme!” she screams as she pulls, and my ankles lift from the ground momentarily before dropping again.
“No, Jasmine. Stop. It doesn’t have to be this way,” I say, pleading with her as I wiggle like a worm, doinganything to make it more difficult for her and buy us some time. But she uses all her strength and pulls again. My heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest, and I sob before I try again.
I kick from the ropes, and I think I succeed as the rope relaxes, but when I see her standing above me, looking down at me like I am nothing, I know the end is near. She grabs a gas can from the side that I have never seen before and splashes it around the shed. The fumes of gasoline immediately hit my nostrils, and I cough as the strong smell slides down my throat. Lacy screams and thrashes as I stare at Jasmine, my shock and approaching hopelessness giving way to overwhelming rage.
This setup is obviously well planned. She knows exactly what she is doing, and I wonder how long she has had this organized. I think through everything. The roses, the cut brakes, she had full access to my place, my property. The way she would look every time Tanner and I were together. At the time, I paid little attention, but in hindsight, there were signs.
I have no idea what I am doing, but just like when I hurt my ankle, I roll straight over to her as fast as I can and hit her right behind the shins with every ounce of power I have left in me. She falls onto her knees, gasoline coating her and me completely.
“You stupid bitch!” she screams, her hand lifting into the air, the can now raised, and she slams it down on my head.
The last thought I have is of Tanner.
49
TANNER
Ithrow another chip on the table. I am down almost a hundred thousand now. My mind is not on the game of poker with my friends and son, but on the woman next door.
“Why don’t you just call her. You are obviously worried,” Connor says, and I want to. I want to drive over there. But I know she needed a bit of space, and the girls were eager to get together. When I quizzed Lacy about it earlier, she mentioned Jasmine had been the one to arrange it. Lacy was not too keen to leave her mom for the night but had made arrangements for someone to be with her so she could be there with Victoria.
“What do they do on girls' nights anyway?” Hudson asks, and I frown at him, wondering why he wants to know.
“Face masks, wine. Talk about boys,” I grumble, repeating the words Victoria told me this afternoon.
“I have never known you to lose a night of poker asbadly as you are tonight,” Connor comments with a smirk, him being the current beneficiary of my bad bets.
“He has good reason to,” Hudson murmurs, looking at me. At any other time, tonight would be a great night. All the boys here, talking shit, having a few beers. But I am on edge.
“Has the sheriff found anything? Anything at all?” Huxley asks, then throws down his cards.
“Not a thing,” I tell him, just as my cell vibrates. It is my security team from the city, so I answer quickly.
I listen to their update and frown, not happy about any of it, then I hang up, the boys all looking at me.
“Security team. They found her father,” I say, and Connor sits forward.
“And? Was it him?” he asks quickly.
“He died a week ago. Self-inflicted, apparently.”
Victoria obviously doesn’t know, which means her mother doesn’t know either. I am not looking forward to telling her that news.
“So it could have been him, then?” Huxley puts it out there, and I lean back in my chair and sigh. “I don’t know. I am trying to think who would be after her. Who would want to see her hurt? Nothing is making any sense.” Following Huxley, I throw my hand down as well, joining him in defeat.
“Nothing odd has happened since she arrived?” Hudson asks.
“Besides her brakes being cut, someone ran over her rosebushes and left a rose inside her house for her,” I say, huffing at how ridiculous that sounds.
“Who could it be, really?” Huxley asks, shaking his head.
“No idea. The only people to ever go to her place are me, Lacy, and Jasmine,” I tell them, taking a sip of whiskey.
“So does Lacy or Jasmine have any motive?” Huxley plays devil’s advocate.
“It isn’t Lacy,” Hudson says so quickly that I look at him sharply and raise an eyebrow. He matches my stare, and if I didn’t have so much on my mind, I would question him. He and Lacy don’t know each other well, but I have seen him watching her whenever we are at the bar, and I assume he knows her a little from the medical support he gives her mom.
“What about Jasmine?” Connor asks, then glances at me with a furrowed brow.
