Page 32 of Falling for Her

I start to take the hook out of the fish, and the fish spasms, then flies up out of my hand, startling me. My hand moves instinctively to block my face.

I feel the burning right away, slicing through my hand. “Owww!” I holler, and I see Asa’s face go white. “Ouch, ouch.” I move my hand, and the rod comes with it.

“Finley, stop,” Asa says.

I look down. Blood is rolling down my hand and onto my wrist. The hook is stuck in my palm.

“Oh my gosh,” I screech. “I need my phone.”

Asa drops his rod and rushes to grab my phone from my purse. “Can you call Collins?” I tell him, and he goes to my call list, and I hear the phone ringing.

“Please answer, please answer,” I mutter quietly. She picks up after four rings.

“Hey, Finley.”

“Hey, so I took Asa fishing down at the creek and”—I try not to panic—“the hook is now stuck in my hand.”

“Don’t pull it out,” she warns. “You could have nerve damage, depending on how deep it is.”

“Okay, well, I’m bleeding, and I have Asa.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, Finley,” Asa assures me. I smile at him.

“I’m on my way,” Collins states. “We’ll be there in ten.”

“I’ll be here,” I confirm and hang up the phone. “It’s going to be okay,” I assure Asa. “It’ll be okay.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LINCOLN

I pick up my phone and dial the number for what feels like the fortieth time. It starts to ring and then goes directly to voicemail.

“Randy, I’m not going to call you again. If you make me come and find you, I’m going to be pissed, and you don’t want me pissed.” I spent the better part of my morning and half of the afternoon looking for him.

Giving up on tracking him down for now, I head back to the station. When the phone rings, I close the window while I press accept. “Burke.”

“Hey, it’s Martinez. Just got some intel on the next drop.”

“When is it?” I turn down Main Street.

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Afternoon?” I repeat. “In broad daylight?”

“Yeah, brazen as fuck. Again, this is just coming in so it might be changing.” He sighs. “I’ll text you any updates, but it would be good if we’re ready to roll as of noon.”

“I’ll be there at noon,” I huff out. “Later.” I disconnect and look at the dashboard. It’s just after 3:00 p.m., and I might actually make it home in time to have dinner with Asa.

I dial Finley. It rings three times before she answers. “Hey,” she says, and I can hear voices in the background.

“Just calling to let you know I’ll be home to make dinner for Asa.”

“Oh, great.” Her voice sounds off.

“Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah,” she says too quickly, laughing nervously. “We’re out, but I’ll make sure I’m home when you get there.” She takes a second. “What time would that be?”