Page 75 of Dotted Lines (Runaway 5)

I glanced over at Clara and August, standing beside the Cadillac. “I don’t know. I was thinking I might stay another night, hang out, then take them to the airport.”

“You should. Spend time with them. Relax. You’ve been working so hard. And we don’t know when you’ll see them again.”

If only she knew what she was suggesting.

But I couldn’t go home. Not yet. Not after Clara’s confession last night. Today was likely my last chance to get some answers, and I couldn’t let her go, leaving me to wonder for the rest of my life.

“I’ll let you know,” I said.

“Okay. I love you.” Holly had been saying I love you for months.

I hadn’t said it back.

Maybe because I needed this closure with Clara. If I was going to move forward, I had to let this part of my life go.

“Have a good day at work. Bye.”

“Bye.” There was a hint of hurt in her voice. I suspected she’d cover it up with a smile, like she normally did whenever I didn’t reciprocate those three words.

I raked a hand through my hair and over my bearded jaw, then shoved my phone away and walked to the car.

“Was that Holly?” Clara asked.

I nodded. “She just wanted to check in.”

“She’s very nice.”

“Yes, she is.”

I had a nice girlfriend. And because of it, my soul felt like it was being ripped in two. But now was not the time to deal with this. First, we had a job to do.

“All good?” I motioned toward the yard.

“I’m ready.” Clara nodded and followed me to the gate.

The air was cool this morning as I unlocked the heavy chain. A breeze lifted the scent of rusted metal to my nose as I shoved the gate open wide enough to walk inside.

Clara followed close behind with August in tow. Her shoulders were pinned straight. There was determination in her gaze—yesterday’s fears weren’t going to stop her.

“This is a junkyard?” August shook his hand loose of hers and walked ahead of us both, turning in a circle to take it all in. Then he shrugged. “It’s dirty.”

I chuckled. Leave it to Gus to break the ice.

“Wow. Look at that.” Clara walked past us, heading toward the side of Lou’s shack. Her focus was on the green vines creeping along the exterior wall. “I didn’t notice it yesterday.”

The plant’s roots stemmed from a black five-gallon bucket. A bucket I’d helped Aria fill with dirt years ago. Whatever vine she’d planted had not only survived under Lou’s care, but it was growing wild. The far wall of his shack was nearly covered.

The plants had been here when I’d visited Lou, but over the past couple of years, they’d taken on a life of their own. With Clara running a fingertip over a leaf, it was beauty amidst the chaos.

“I’ll be damned.”

“Quarter.” August marched up to me, hand out.

Digging a dollar bill from my pocket, I smacked it in his palm. Just yesterday he’d earned another one from me. I didn’t realize how much I cussed until there was a kid to collect on every swear word.

“Aria is going to freak.” Clara took her phone from her pocket and snapped a string of pictures. Then she held out a hand for August. “Your aunt Aria planted this a long, long time ago.”

“She’s a good planter.”