Part of me can’t help but wonder if that was really what she was going to say, but the other part of me is glad that she did say it. It feels normal, and that’s something I didn’t know I needed.
“Well, that’s selfish.”
She shrugs. “Call a spade a spade. All I know is that you and I fight. That’s what we do.”
“And whose fault is it that we’ve been nemeses since we were teenagers, huh?”
I eye her curiously as years of flashbacks assault me—us in high school in particular. That’s when things really started to take a turn. I take a step closer to her, forcing her to crane her neck back as she stares up at me.
I watch her throat bob as she swallows, opening her mouth as if to say something. But she snaps it shut, retreats from my proximity, and poises the hose right in front of my face instead. “We don’t have time to go back down memory lane, Elliot. Now, get your stinky ass in the shower, or I’ll be forced to hose you down right here.”
Rolling my eyes, I head in the direction of my bedroom, but not before I hear Dilynne shout from the living room, “Dear God! I think I just saw a rat scurry across the floor!”
And the corner of my mouth tips up for the first time in a week.
***
“Where the fuck are you taking me?” We’ve been driving on a dirt road for what seems like an eternity, and I’ve barely said a word since we got into Dilynne’s jet black ’69 Chevy Camaro after I scrubbed every inch of my body. I won’t admit that the shower actually made me feel better though, because no amount of soap could clean up the chaos stinking up my mind.
“Don’t worry. If I was going to murder you, I would’ve done it long ago.”
Twisting to face her, I watch for her reaction when I ask, “You’ve actually thought about it, haven’t you?”
There’s a quirk in her lips, but she recovers quickly, shrugging. “Even if I had, do you think I’d admit that to a lawyer?”
I release a bone-deep sigh at the mention of my profession. “Don’t remind me. I’m not exactly eager to go back to work and that life. But if I take any more time off, my father might fire me.”
She glances over at me. “Can he do that?”
“Technically, yes, since he owns the firm.”
Dilynne shakes her head. “You’d think he’d cut you some slack. Given the whole…public humiliation thing.”
I scoff. “Yeah, not sure that’s in Henry Thorne II’s makeup.”
She takes a slow turn and pulls up to a chain-link fence with a gate blocking the entrance.
“Give me a sec.” Pulling out her phone, she shoots off a text, and then the gate in front of us slowly slides open. Dilynne moves the car into the vast space, and as I look around, I realize we’re in a junkyard full of old cars.
“What the hell…”
“Unclench your butt cheeks, Thorne. Everything will make sense in a minute.” She finds a spot to park, and then she’s hopping out from the driver’s seat before I can ask another question, walking toward a man who looks like he’s lost more teeth than he’s kept.
“Timothy!”
His nod is curt. “Dilynne. Good to see you, as always.”
“Thanks for letting us come by. I know you’re usually closed on Mondays.”
He hoists his pants up higher on his waist that’s hidden by a massive beer belly. “You’re the only person I would do this for. Say, did you ever find that part you were looking for?”
“The one for the Porsche?”
“Yeah.”
Dilynne shakes her head. “Nope.”
“Ah, well, you still have time.”