She’s crying again, uncontrollably this time, fat tears streaming down her cheeks. Maybe I should’ve chosen my words more carefully.
“I only ever did what I had to do,” she sobs. “I know I’m no fucking good, alright? I tried to be, but I just can’t change. That’s why I never took anything from Hunter. I never used him. Never. And that’s why I’m not taking anything from you or any of his family.”
At this point, I could remind her that she stole from Anne, but she’s hysterical and she doesn’t need to hear it. I shouldn’t have yelled at her. But she’s fucking delusional if she thinks handing the Riders to the cops will achieve the revenge they deserve.
But I’m out of time to try and convince her of that. Veronica is striding across the parking lot towards us, her face twisted and her eyes shining bright in the little light that’s left. Like fury itself. Intoxicatingly mesmerizing, if I didn’t know she was coming here to bite my head off.
“Get whatever you gave her back,” I hiss at Trixie. “We’ll make sure they get what they deserve and more.”
I’m not even sure she heard me because she’s still crying uncontrollably and Veronica is already next to us glaring at me like I drowned her puppy or something.
I raise my hands and back away from her. “It’s alright, she’s just a little sad. Let’s go back into the office.”
“You are not going anywhere with us,” Veronica says angrily, actual lightning shoot from her eyes and straight through me, or as near as. “I’m taking her inside and you’re leaving.”
She wraps her arm around Trixie’s shoulders and says very softly, “Come on. Come inside.”
Damn, I wish she’d use that kind, deep and soothing voice when talking to me. Just once and I’d be happy. But that random thought has no place in the here and now.
I have to stop Trixie giving her that information. But how? By physically taking it from her? That’s not gonna end well.
“It’s extremely important that you not do what you want to do, Trixie,” I tell her. “It’s fucking crucial.”
They’re already walking away from me, but Trixie looks at me over her shoulder and nods.
Damn, I hope she’ll do it. Because otherwise I don’t know what we’ll do. Going after the Riders while the cops are investigating them would be suicide for us. But Cross won’t be able to sit back either, I know that much.
Do I tell him now?
Or do I stay and wait for the women to calm down and try to talk to them again?
Both those options suck.
And I’m rooted to the spot, paralyzed trying to find a third option that doesn’t. There isn’t one.
What will Cross do to Veronica when he finds out she has the information and what she plans on doing with it?
I’m spared having to make a decision by Trixie running out of the office, clutching a stack of papers in one fist and her bag in the other. Veronica is right on her heals, calling her name, begging her to stop and reconsider.
“I did it, I took it back,” Trixie hisses at me as she comes towards me. “But I hate myself for it and I never want to see any of you again.”
She breaks out into a full-on sprint after that and reaches her rusty pickup at the far end of the parking lot before Veronica is even halfway there.
Veronica is still screaming her name as she guns it out of the lot.
She’s shaking and looks so damn lost and sad and broken as she walks back towards me. I want to hold her and tell her everything will be alright, I want to tell her nothing bad will ever happen to her again, that will get those guys she was planning to report to the cops, but that’s a totally idiotic impulse hitting me from left field for no good reason. This woman hates me. That glare in her eyes leaves no doubt of that. Lightning and thunder all rolled into one.
“What did you say to her?” she asks. “Did you threaten her?”
“I did what I had to do,” I tell her simply.
Her plump, dark red lips are quivering, but she scoffs and storms past me back into the office, slamming the door shut so hard the glass vibrates and comes close to shattering.
And I still can’t leave.