Page 138 of Maverick

“Not goodbye man. Never. I’m just starting to see that maybe I might be headed somewhere I never imagined.”

Somewhere like the country? I’ll admit, as we passed, I’d crane my neck to look at every for sale sign I saw. Because an area like this? It’s exactly the kind of place Cadence could build her dream rescue. And I want to give her everything, including that.

But could I live out here?

If it’s with her and Nan, then the answer is yes. I’d need a helipad though. I’m not driving two hours to get to work every morning.

“Here we are,” Nick says as he turns on to what looks like the main street. It's cute, despite being worn down. Some of thebuildings have fresh paint, and it's obvious that they're trying to spruce things up. His eyes scan the street, taking in the people walking on the sidewalks and the kids playing in the park in the middle of town.

It's exactly like a Christmas movie, only without the snow. Though the bite in the air makes it obvious it’s coming soon. And weirdly, I sort of want to see what this place looks like with snow on the ground and Christmas lights everywhere.

"There it is," he says, pulling into a parking spot with a smooth turn of the wheel. I follow his gaze to the garage across the street. At first glance, it's nothing special, just another small-town establishment. The weathered brick building stands squat and unassuming. Two large, roll-up doors dominate the front, currently open to reveal two hoists with cars on them. On the top of the building there's a simple hand-painted sign with "McKenna's Auto Repair" in chipped white lettering. It looks like it's been here, unchanged, for fifty years. We hop out of the truck, Nick holding open the back door for Goldie to jump out. She finally came home about a month ago. It was an adjustment, but she’s coming to trust all of us. Enough that she bumps her nose under my hand, demanding a pet as Nick attaches her leash. Slowly, we cross the empty road, stopping just off the sidewalk at the base of the driveway.

"Ransom's willing to pay over a million dollars for this? It makes no fucking sense."

"I know," Nick says grimly. "This is about so much more than this building."

"Stranger Danger!"

Nick and I both whirl around, coming face to face with a boy on a bicycle. He can't be more than six or seven, with a big gap where his front teeth should be. He points up at us with a suspicious look on his face. "Are you bad guys?" That finger shifts over to Nick's leather jacket and motorcycle boots. "Youlook like a bad guy. Do you have a gun? Are you going to rob the joint?"

Nick chokes, muffling his laugh with his hand. "Um, no, I'm not a bad guy. Just because I wear a leather jacket doesn't make me a bad guy. You watch too many movies."

He flicks his hand at Nick, dismissively, then pins his dark brown eyes on me. "What about you? You look rich. Are you? Or do you just dress fancy? I bet you're just a fancy dresser and you drive a piece of shit car home to your baby momma."

"Jesus,” I mumble to Nick, whose shoulders are shaking. “Who the fuck is this kid, and why do I want to somehow prove to him that I'm actually rich, and not just faking it?"

"I don't know man. And 'baby momma'? Seriously? Where did he even?—"

"Maxwell Jones, have you been watching that stupid show again?"

Nick and I spin again, and suck in our breath when we spot her. God, do they grow them special out here in the country or something?

She stands there, letting us look. She's got to be used to it. A woman like her? Over six feet, long dark hair in a simple braid. There's no makeup on her face, but she doesn't need it. Everything about her is striking, from the bold slash of her eyebrows to her icy gray eyes.

"Nu huh," the little boy says, eye twitching. The woman, apparently done with us, strides over to the little boy, crouching down next to him.

"Liar," she says, lifting her brow. "You have a tell, little man. Don't ever try and play poker. You'll lose your money and end up living under a bridge."

He wipes the back of his hand across his nose, smearing dirt across his face. "Don't matter. I like it under the bridge. Men' Nikki built a fort under there. It's got lizards and frogs and everything."

"Sounds like paradise," she says dryly, rising to her full height. "Now I think you better head on home. Your mom is going to be looking for you. And make sure you take your shoes off before you go inside. You smell like shit, so you'd better check the bottoms real good."

The kid shoots a foot out behind him and cranes his neck, then does the same to the other one. "Yup. There it is," he says, apparently unconcerned. "Kay, I'm going. Can you message my mom and tell her I'm coming in hot with a shit situation?"

She nods, fighting a smile. "Will do."

"Thanks Aunt Blair. See you later." And he's gone.

What a weird kid. It's- Nick and I both stare at each other suddenly, eyes wide. "Blair?" Nick says, taking a step toward the woman.

She doesn't move, or react in any way. She just stares at us, giving us a chance to register the things we missed at first. Like the stained rag hanging out of the back pocket of her jeans. And the streak of grease on the side of her neck. It's her hands though, that give it away. The short nails and the line of black under them. Our hands look the same way anytime we work in the garage.

"Holy fuck," I breathe. "You're Blair McKenna."

She sighs, and shakes her head suddenly looking exhausted. But not so exhausted she couldn’t beat a man do death with a wrench if she felt like it.

"I'm guessing you're his guys? He sent you to get the paperwork signed? You're wasting your time. I'm not selling. Not ever. They will have to pry my cold dead body out from under a car when I'm eighty. That's the only way I'm leaving."

She steps forward, getting right up in our face, her eyes nearly level with ours. "Ransom's obviously too big of a cowardto ever come back here, so you tell him for me, 'kay? NOT. FUCKING. SELLING. I don't care what deal he and my dad had. Now I'm done. You should go."

Then she turns, and strides back into the garage, the first bay door slamming down behind her. Then the second.

Nick and I turn and stare at each other. "Holy fuck," I say again. I've got nothing else.

Nick's face is stunned. "Ransom has a fuck of a lot of explaining to do."