Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Not forever.
She wasn’t good enough for them, but in the end, she didn’t want to be.
“Your family never liked me,” Gracen said quietly, starting her walk down the path to make it obvious that the conversation was over. “Even if they pretended like they did for a while.”
Sonny didn’t deny it. “Yeah, Gracen, they made things tough.” Behind her, she heard him add lower, “But I let them do it, too.”
He sure did.
Accountability could be hard.
Being a coward, even harder.
Chapter 25
“How are ya, buddy?”
Chip always started his calls with Malachi in the same way. His greeting never changed, but oddly enough, it was also the only time that Chip called him buddy. Probably because he knew that over the phone was the only time Malachi would let Chip get away with that kind of nonsense. It was akin to kid.
“Don’t tell me you need me back there. It’s too late—the job’s supposed to be done, Chip. I just rolled into town.”
Malachi would not be making the four-hour drive back to Miramichi unless there was some emergency that couldn’t be helped, and he was the very last resort on hand. Knowing Chip, he could easily start a conversation with the same friendly tone regardless of the severity of his circumstances.
Chip’s laughter echoed over the phone. As booming as ever. “I’m just checking in on you, no worries.”
Malachi breathed a sigh of relief.
He’d earned this trip.
Some time off.
Not to mention—
“So, you ain’t seen Miss Gracen, yet?” Chip asked as if he could read Malachi’s mind.
No doubt, his friend wouldn’t ask much more about Gracen if Malachi didn’t offer the information first, but Chip had made it clear he thought she was great. So much so in fact, he opened the invitation to the lodge for Gracen at any time as long as Malachi went along to keep her company.
An easy deal.
“Well, did you?” Chip asked again.
“I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah. You just got into town,” he mocked. “Boring.”
Chuckling, Malachi muttered something about Chip’s nonsense to deflect the question while he leaned against his parked Suzuki. Sipping from the cup of to-go coffee he’d grabbed from the cafe at the top of the valley town, Malachi placed the iced coffee for Gracen in the one cup holder his bike allowed. An attachment he’d needed to purchase separately from the bike.
Most of the time, he didn’t trust it. A short ride could be okay with a bit of care. If he felt really risky, he used the cupholder to manage one drink while he balanced the other in his hand on the handlebar. A hundred percent, he did not recommend trying it. Malachi tried not to do it often, so he worked on emptying his own drink so he would have both hands firmly on the handlebars of the bike on the way down the hill and across the bridge.
“I needed a coffee,” Malachi eventually told his friend. “I felt those last fifty kilometers in my stomach.” Which wasn’t an exaggeration. He, and the bike, had been running on empty for a bit. He got on the road early so that he wouldn’t roll into the valley too late in the day that the majority of his Saturday was a wash. Where was the fun in that? “Gracen is my next stop, actually.”
Chip mumbled something unintelligible before his voice cleared on the call when he asked, “No trouble, right?”
“Chip, I just got here. I—”
“No trouble, right?”
Malachi blew out an annoyed breath. “Not so far, man.”
But he did just get here.
Malachi surveyed the bustling parking lot of the cafe that was also attached to lots for the other businesses on the hill. It constantly moved with activity from the residents shopping, getting gas, or having dinner at the sandwich shop attached to the petrol station. Someone or something was always coming and going one way or another. Traffic came in off the highway to help keep the road and lot busy as well.
Despite the movement and noise around Malachi, the sky was bright blue with the sun high and hot overhead, and the rest of the valley radiated calm. From his parking spot at the far end of the lot, he had a good view of the hill leading down to the lower portion of town, and even the peak of the bridge’s metal rails. He couldn’t see the river, but the upper landscape would have made for a nice picture if he cared to get Chip off the phone.
He didn’t.
Plus, taking photos of the valley was more of Gracen’s thing. He happened to think she was pretty good at it, too.
“Well, I don’t trust ‘em,” Chip grunted, bringing Malachi back to the conversation at hand. “We both know that you shouldn’t either. For good damn reason, Malachi. It’s not coincidental that the night you use your friend’s truck—and leave town—is the same one when his place gets burned down.”