Chapter Twenty-Four
Jo
When the morning light hit my face, I dragged my eyes open. Last night was the final for Anatomy and Physiology, and it had been intense. Today was Nana’s last day to pack because she was moving tomorrow, so it was definitely going to be another busy day. As I got ready, I noticed there was a note stuffed under my door.
You need to learn to drive the Lambo. Today.
2 P.M. Bettes will watch Nana.
At two o’clock, Nana was snoozing in the chair when Bettes came over. Nana’s boxes were totally packed so we had to clear a space to sit on the couch.
“Heard you were helping out the club. You’re being very brave,” Bettes said, giving me a wink as we sat down at the kitchen table.
“Or very stupid,” I replied, laughing. “I’m sure nothing will happen.”
“Either way, I want to wish you good luck.” She squeezed my hand. “We’d love it if you were an old lady, you know. I hope it works out between you two.”
“Me too,” I admitted.
“Well, Tate said you’d be a friend of the club, so you’re always welcome.” She frowned. “But we’ve never had a woman who’s a friend of the club, so I don’t really know what that means.”
I didn’t know what it meant either, to be honest. But before I could say anything, something roared from the street outside. We jumped. It sounded like some sort of mechanical predator.
“What was that?” I twisted and looked out the window. It was a yellow Lamborghini. The car they were dropping off in Reno.
Bettes laughed. “I would guess that’s your driving instructor.”
Clint climbed his way out of the car and started walking toward the house. He was wearing his uniform from the shop with a few permanent oil stains on the front. So many times, I’d watched him come home and helped him take off that uniform. I missed those days, but I didn’t want to be with the guy I saw the other night—the guy who tried to tell me what to do and run my life.
“Hi, ladies,” he said, coming into the house. He looked at me. “You ready?”
“I just need to get my shoes.” I flew to my room. What should I wear to learn to drive a sports car? Flip-flops were probably a bad choice, so I put on my sneakers.
Clint didn’t really say much as we walked out to the car. He opened the passenger side door for me and I slid in. It was gorgeous. Black leather was everywhere and it was so soft.
“Here, let me help with your seat belt.” He leaned into the car.
“I got it,” I said, reaching for the seat belt over my shoulder. It wasn’t there, so I turned to find it.
“Like this,” Clint said, lowering a bar and harness over my chest. His knuckles brushed my breasts as he started to adjust the belt. We both froze and he backed up. “You get the idea.”
He got in the driver’s side and started the engine. The roar that I heard from the living room bubbled up from underneath the hood. Being so close to the engine, it was loud but even, like a purr. Clint put it into gear and glided away from the curb. I paid close attention to his movements as he drove.
We ended up at an empty parking lot outside of an abandoned shopping mall. I laughed to myself. This felt like when I was fourteen and my dad decided my sister and I should know how to drive the old Caddy.
“Jo.” Clint turned to me. “You need to know how to drive this car. If you’re driving, it’s because something bad has happened to me.”
That sobered me up really quickly.
“I know what I agreed to.” Images of Clint bleeding and staggering flashed through my mind. “It’s not for fun, I get it.”
It took me nearly an hour to figure out the clutch, but I was finally able to pull out in first gear. I didn’t glide the way Clint did, but at least I had stopped stalling the engine. After a while, I got the hang of it. Just touching the accelerator with my toe was enough to send it flying, so it took me another hour to work on accelerating without crashing.
Clint had been all business during the lesson. He’d said nothing about me jumping in and volunteering to help, even though he obviously didn’t like the idea at the time.
“You think you’re ready for city streets?” he asked, after I had mastered shifting gears. “We have an errand to run.”
It was slow, but I made it the three or so miles to our destination—which turned out to be a pawnshop. I’d been in a lot of pawnshops when I was a kid. When waitressing, my mom often nicked things, as she called it, and then sold them. When I was older, I realized that nicking meant stealing. All of those old feelings of shame came rushing back.
“What are we doing here?” I asked. I didn’t take Clint as someone who would steal something and then fence it. But maybe I had been wrong. My fingers clenched the steering wheel as I waited for his answer.
“He’s got a set of nice quality euro gauge wrenches. He wants to sell them pretty cheap. We’re using bits and pieces at the shop. I’d like to get a nice set. It’s easier to keep track of them all when they’re a single brand.” He climbed out of the car, but then leaned back in. “You coming? I want to get you something too.”
He wanted to get me something? At a pawnshop? I scrambled out for the car, figured out which button locked it, and ran after him.
We walked into the secured vestibule and waited to be buzzed in. We were greeted by a huge glass display case of diamond rings. I froze. He wasn’t thinking of proposing, was he? I started to laugh but instantly sobered up. A month ago, that wouldn’t have been a joke.
“Hey, Clint.” The pawnshop guy smiled warmly at us. “You here about that wrench set?”
I stepped to the side and let them do their business, and gazed at all the sparkly rings in the glass case. I knew he really hadn’t meant to get me a ring, but I looked through them as if we were going to get engaged.
“You want to look at something while they’re talking?” a salesgirl asked. I had been so engrossed in the rings, I hadn’t even noticed that she walked up.
“I’m just looking,” I said, looking down at the sparkles.
“You wanna try one on?” the girl asked, getting out a set of keys on a ring. “You don’t have to buy it. I’d much rather do this than inventory in the back.”
“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble?” I glanced back at Clint; he and the employee were looking at tools.
She laughed. “Nah, that guy is my dad. It’ll be fine. I’m Ronnie. We’ve got a two-carat solitaire over here. That one’s fun to try on. It’s real big.”
After the first ring, I couldn’t get enough. Ronnie pulled out an entire tray to look at.
“I could never wear this to work,” I said, admiring an emerald-cut diamond ring that had a massive cathedral setting, according to Ronnie. “I’m going to be a nurse and it would catch on my gloves all day.”
“Right.” Ronnie frowned and scanned the case. “How about this one? It’s a band, but it’s three carats total, and see this setting? It’s a channel set, so it might work with your gloves.”
I tried on the ring. Five huge diamonds set into a band. I ran my fingers over the edges, a smooth rim of metal protected the edges of the diamonds. It would be perfect. I just needed to find the right guy. I used to think that was Clint, but I just couldn’t be with a man who made decisions about my life. That was my job. Going on this run, living the way I wanted to, I was in charge of all of that.
Too bad. That one month we’d been together had been amazing.
Ronnie looked at an inventory list. “I’m pretty sure that one is platinum.”
“Jo?” Clint said from behind me.
I jumped and tore the ring off my finger, giving it back to Ronnie. Had he guessed what I was doing, thinking about?
Based on his scowl, he knew exactly what was going through my head.