Page 147 of Worth the Fall

EMERSON

I need open space.

I need the wind in my hair and the roar in my ears to drown out the devastation owning my soul.

I didn’t get the loan.

I’m not going to get Blue Skies.

I tried to start over. To build a life. To stay put. To trust someone.

But it doesn’t seem to be in the cards.

All this hard work. All this busting my ass, and I have nothing to show for it except that I’ll probably be out of a job and most likely out of a place to live.

The thought hits me hard, and I press the pedal down even farther.

Anything to quiet my head, but it isn’t working.

Nothing is working.

Me. Grant. Blue Skies. My attempt to make a life for myself. Maybe it just isn’t meant to be.

So I drive. Push the limits of reason with a pedal and a full tank of gas and wonder what’s next.

The sirens cut through my thoughts, and red and blue lights up the dark night.

“Goddamnit!” I shout to myself as I thump the steering wheel with the heel of my hand, and for just a second, I imagine flooring the gas and taking off.

Was he just sitting here waiting for me?

Nothing like abusing his power.

Because I’d bet anything it’s going to be Grant walking up to my car and asking for my license and registration. It’s going to be Grant trying to reel me in when all I want to do is run.

As I pull over to the side of the road and put my hazards on, I force myself to acknowledge that a small part of me yearns to see him. After the visit from his mom and the doubts Desi lit the match to in my mind, I finally feel ready to face him. The hurt is still there, still raw, but what if I was wrong?

I lean back in my seat and watch the swing of the flashlight as he walks, curious how he’s going to play this. We still have a lot to say to each other, and the side of the road isn’t exactly the place to do it.

Then again, he’s the one who pulled me over.

I squint when the flashlight hits my eyes.

“License and registrat—ah, so we meet again,” the officer says, startling me. It’s the same officer who pulled me over before. The one who started the whole Tampax adventure.

“Hello, Officer.”

“Do you happen to have lead in that foot of yours, Ms. . . .”

“Reeves. Emerson Reeves.”

“Ah, yes. Emerson. Where’s the fire tonight?”

I stare at him for a second, ready to bullshit my way through it but don’t. “You know what? I had a really crappy day. That’s it. No excuse. Sometimes there’s nothing better than an open road and the windows down.”

He chuckles. “Honesty. I like that.” He nods as he leans his forearm on the top of my window. “So, what am I supposed to do with you⁠—”

“Officer Roberts, what’s your 10-20?” His radio interrupts.