Star-Crossed(112)
Jules leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and took a deep breath. A part of this felt rash and reckless when she thought about all the responsibilities she had in Garnet. What would happen to her clients if she never went home? More importantly, what would happen to Wyatt?
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But what would have happened to her if she just let Romeo go without her?
She refused to live her life a cursed Conner with nothing but pictures and mementos to sustain her. She had a little too much grit to give up without a down-and-dirty fight to the finish. She didn’t know what this trip would bring, but she certainly wasn’t ready to wave the white flag yet.
With that thought Jules started her car and backed out of the convenience store parking lot.
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Chapter Twenty
Wyatt’s back hurt every time he crashed on the couch in his office. He’d just meant to rest his eyes, but when he opened them the first rays of morning were shining through the window and the smell of gourmet coffee permeated the air.
That meant Adam was on shift, which made it past six in the morning. Wyatt unfolded himself from the couch and sat up, rubbing his back and trying to wake up more fully.
“Morning.”
Wyatt glanced to his open office door to see Adam in his tan deputy uniform, looking wide-awake and happy to be alive. A powerfully built black man, with startling amber eyes, Adam was naturally handsome and enjoyed the novelty of it until a city girl named Kesha visited some of her kin after graduating from college two summers ago and stolen his heart. They’d gotten married last year. Now a newlywed, Adam was always annoyingly chipper.
With a knowing smirk, Adam arched an eyebrow at Wyatt. “Heard you had some trouble yesterday with the Gladiator.”
Wyatt groaned and fell back on the couch. Regardless of how badly it hurt his back, he suddenly wanted to go back to sleep. He grabbed the pillow and put it over his face. “Who told ya that?”
“Everyone.”
“Hell.”
“You got a few bruises showing.”
Wyatt snorted. “You should see the other guy.”
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“I heard he just stood there.”
“Oh Christ.” Wyatt groaned, knowing that fight was going to hurt his reputation.
“There goes the next election.”
“No one runs against you in those bogus elections.”
“I know.” Wyatt sighed. “Maybe someone should. You want the job?”
“You just slept on the couch. I’m gonna pass on that.” Wyatt tossed the pillow aside in defeat. “So much for early retirement.”
“Why dontcha head home?” Adam suggested with a wince. “You’re looking rough, man. Maybe you ought to cash in the two years of sick time ya got saved up.”
“Nah, I’m okay,” Wyatt said dismissively. “I’ll take a power nap at home and be back at two.”
“I can work a double.”
“Kesha gets pissy with me when I let you do that.” Wyatt tried to make the falsehood sound believable when Kesha was never anything but nice to him. Too nice.
Wyatt always felt guilty making her new husband work too much. “She gives me hell.
You don’t even know.”
“No, she doesn’t. She worries ’bout you as much as I do. You’re just using that shit as an excuse to work yourself to death.”
“I’d love to take a fucking vacation, but that wife of yours intimidates me.”
“I’m gonna tell her you said that,” Adam warned. “And she’s gonna hire Jules to sue ya for libel ’cause that’s the biggest damn lie I ever heard.”
“Go for it.” Wyatt huffed and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to text Jules.
“My sister is just dying to sue someone for libel. It’d make her year.”
“You’re a mess, Conner,” Adam said with a laugh. “And you should hear the shit going ’round ’bout you. People are saying you beat on Wellings like you’d lost your damn mind.”
Wyatt only half heard him. He was frowning at the text on the screen of his phone.
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Wy Wy. I’m happy I came into this world by your side. I feel very lucky to be your twin.
You’re a great brother and an even better friend. Please know I’ll miss you every day that I’m gone. Love you, Ju Ju Bean.
Wyatt had to reread it three times before he really fought past the shock and realized this was a good-bye text. He immediately dialed Jules, but it went directly to voice mail.
He tried the home phone and again came up with nothing but voice mail when she should be up and getting ready for work.
More than awake now, Wyatt called Clay next and barked into the phone when it was answered, “You gimme that bastard Wellings’s number.”