Chapter Ten

Cohen

Vienna hadn’t said a word since she got back into the car and backed out of Jenny’s driveway. The only thing I’d managed to get out of her was an agreement to just drive her car home and we’d get mine later. There was no way I was leaving her by herself until I knew what was going through her mind. And after three attempts to try and find out, the only thing she’d offered me was, “Shh, Cohen. I’ve got to process this.”

Process. Analyze. Mentally organize. Whatever it was she was doing, it didn’t include me. Which normally might have ticked me off, but seeing as the bubbling anger and hurt were clear in her eyes and in the tightness of her jaw, I let her be.

She knew something. Something I didn’t. And it was big.

Which meant only one thing.

There was definitely more to the story about what happened ten years ago than we’d both realized.

“Christ, what’s going on, Vi?” I blurted out again, unable to resist.

She ignored me, leaning down to pull her purse from the floor of the car. With one hand, she steered the car—and not well, I might add, which had me slightly nervous as I watched her pass cars doing well over the speed limit—and with the other, she fished around in the bag, finally pulling out her cell phone.

She pushed only a few buttons, so I assumed the number she was calling had been on her speed dial. “Damn it!” she exclaimed when no one answered, and she tossed the phone back into the bag, huffing out a loud, frustrated breath.

“Let me dial it if you’re going to try again,” I offered, my hand held out between us. “You’re going to get us killed.”

“It’s no use. He’s not answering, anyway.”

He. “Garrett?”

That caused her to shoot me a steely glare. “Who else?”

So, he was at the heart of this mess, then. Until that point, part of me had really wished he wasn’t, purely because I knew Garrett’s betrayal—no matter how much he was involved—would hurt Vienna. They’d been friends for practically their whole lives. And, by the sounds of it, lovers for a while, too. As much as it pained me to think about that, Garrett had been a part of her life for a lot longer than I had. His part in this would reopen the wounds from that night, and she’d have to grieve all over again.

“I wish you’d tell me what’s going on,” I sighed.

“Not yet. I can’t. I just…” Her voice cracked, and her fingers on the steering wheel clamped down tighter.

“Okay,” I said, softer now. My hand found her knee, and I squeezed gently. “It’s okay. We’ll talk about it when you’re ready. We have time.”

“Time,” she muttered, flicking on the signal light and taking the Garrison exit. “We’ve lost so much of that. And for what? Because of jealousy.”

I didn’t push her, but I swear, every nerve in my body started tingling. Garrett Hunter had done something out of jealousy? Or was it Jenny?

Anger was starting to ignite inside me again, and I had to fight the urge to question her further, fearful I’d take my frustrations out on her. Instead, I let her drive silently for a few minutes, focusing out of the corner of my eye on the way her body was strung tightly with anxiety and the straight line of her mouth. It made me wonder if going to Jenny’s, and digging this all up, had been a good idea.

“You passed my street,” I announced, turning my head to watch the street sign go by.

“We’re going to my apartment.”

I wasn’t going to argue. I could borrow her car to go let Bailey outside later if I needed to.

I was still surprised by the place Vienna was living in. In a town that thrived on gossip and spreading news like wildfire, not only had I failed to hear that she was even back in town from the coffee drinkers who frequented the diner I bought my coffee from every day on the way in to the college, but I also hadn’t heard that the Daltons had decided to rent out the basement apartment in their house, originally built for Mr. Dalton’s mother, who’d long since passed away after being placed in a nursing home. The gossipmongers were losing their touch.

She pulled her BMW into the gravel driveway of the brick side-split house on Cedar Avenue. The Daltons also spent six months out of the year in Florida, chasing down the nicer weather during the winter months. Which meant the house was vacant, save for Vienna.

“You’re here alone while Nancy and Eldridge are in Miami?” The house was in complete darkness, and the idea of her being here alone with so many unanswered questions didn’t sit well within my gut.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” she said warily, killing the engine with a turn of the key.

I hadn’t even realized that the other car in the driveway didn’t belong there. The lights were off, and the interior was dark. And while I knew the Daltons were definitely in Florida, I also knew they didn’t own a light-colored Corolla.

“Who is that?” I asked, my gaze fixed firmly on the driver’s door that had just opened.

Vienna’s eyes never left the figure in front of her, but I saw them narrow in the interior light. “That,” she stated pointedly, “is Garrett.”