“I’m not ready for that.”
My mom’s lips thinned. “Hadley, my entire family is royally pissed at me. You need to give me an opportunity to make things right.”
My fingers tightened around my keys, the grooves in the metal digging into my flesh. The tiny bite of pain helped, kept me from screaming right there on the street. “If your family is royally pissed at you, then maybe you should talk to them. It’s not my job to smooth things over. Not anymore.”
“I didn’t mean that you should. I simply meant that I would like for you to hear me out. You might not believe me, but I don’t want my family to be at odds.”
I did believe her. She wanted us to be one big, happy family. But to be that, we had to be as she wanted us to be, fall in line and play the role she gave us. I was never much good at acting. “I really don’t have time for this right now. I’m sorry.” I started towards my SUV.
“Hadley,” she called after me.
I kept right on walking, another weight added to that cavity in my chest. I climbed behind the wheel. My eyes burned as I pulled out of my parking spot, my mother staring at me from the sidewalk. It felt as if someone had poured acid in them by the time I pulled into the fire station.
I grabbed a spot at the edge of the lot and took several deep breaths. Calla. Toby. My mom. It was all too much. I stared at the front doors of the station, focusing on the letters above them as I continued to breathe. I tried to picture the stress of the morning melting away into a pool on the floor of my SUV.
I had no room for my personal baggage when I walked through those doors. None of us did. The only thing that mattered once you were inside that station was the people who needed your help.
That helped. Putting the focus on something outside of me. People in need.
My phone dinged, but I didn’t pick it up, I simply kept breathing. Another ding sounded, and then another. My phone let alerts fly, one after the other.
I pulled the device out of my cupholder, silencing it as I went. Text after text popped up from numbers I didn’t recognize.
Unknown Number:Is this really Little Daredevil? Please text me back! I’m your biggest fan! I started BMX racing because of you.
What the hell was happening? Another number popped up on my screen.
Unknown Number:Dude, if this really is the Little Daredevil send me some of those sweet ass nudes that were on your account.
My stomach pitched as incoming calls started popping up on my screen, email after email. I could barely get rid of one before another notification appeared. I struggled to navigate to my settings but finally made it there and put my phone in airplane mode. The notifications stopped, but one had frozen at the top from a new sender.
Unknown Number:I’d like to fuck you, tear you up, and show you your place.
No amount of breathing would help me now. My thumb trembled as I tapped the message icon. There were over a hundred new texts in less than two minutes. I scrolled through them. It was a mixed bag, everything from fans to things that made me want to vomit, but my thumb hovered over one in particular.
Unknown Number:This is me helping karma along. Liars and sluts deserve to be punished.
My gaze flew up from the screen, darting around the parking lot. I searched the trees that lined one side of the space, half expecting a masked serial killer to jump out. I scanned the street our station sat on. A couple jogged with their dog, and a woman walked with a baby in a stroller.
Nothing was out of place. But as I stared down at the screen, I couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching me.
37
Calder
“Hand me the cayenne pepper,would you?” Mac asked as he stood in front of the stove in the station’s kitchen.
I opened one of the cabinets and grabbed the spice but held it just out of his reach. “You’re not going to burn our mouths off, are you?”
“Y’all are a bunch of sissies.”
“No, we just weren’t born in hell,” McNally shot back from his spot at the counter where he was reading the local paper.
Mac grinned. “Not hell, Louisiana. Now, give me the damned pepper.”
I tossed him the spice. “You make me cry, and I’ll dump this in your coffee when you’re not looking.”
Mac shook his head and sprinkled a light dusting of the pepper onto whatever egg creation he was making. “I’m making it mild for the crybabies.”