Page 76 of The Arrangement

Technically true, but the only reason I’d survived that was because he’d rescued me. And this… this wasn’t that. This was my livelihood, my dream, my future, and it’d just had a giant fucking tree limb shoved through the center of it.

James dropped his hands to my shoulders and gave me a gentle shake. “We can fix this.”

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.” Admitting the defeat out loud was like a gut punch.

“We’re going to start by cleaning up this glass so we don’t get hurt while taking stock of the situation.” He glanced toward the front. “On the upside, it looks like the storm is letting up.”

“Lot of good that does me now,” I said bitterly as I stomped my feet into the too-big shoes. It was clear from James’ expression that he wanted to say something. Rather than give him the opportunity, I grabbed the broom he was holding and walked around the counter.

Thirty minutes later, the storm had officially died down, and we’d barely made a dent. Glass filled the large bin I used for cuttings, and I could already tell the dumpster out back wouldn’t be big enough for everything that would have to be tossed. I’d stubbornly and perhaps too optimistically hoped that cleaning would reveal that the damage wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Except it was. The shop literally looked worse than it had when I’d arrived in Fairhope two months ago.

“Knock knock.”

I looked up at the impromptu greeting. At seeing who it was, my scowl deepened. “Officer Beechum.”

He grinned and tapped the star on his chest. “It’s Sheriff now.” When I didn’t say anything, he went on. “Brody told me you were back. Said you quit the army. Shoulda known you’d be at the flower shop. You practically lived here when you’d come to visit.” Despite the almost jovial way he said it, I didn’t miss the undercurrent of derision.

“Can we help you with something, Sheriff?” James asked as I stared blankly at Beechum Sr.

“We’re canvassing the town to see if anyone needs help,” he said, turning his gaze to James. “Make sure everyone is okay.” He gave him a once-over, taking in his state of dress and subtly flicking his gaze to me.

“We were upstairs when it happened. No damage there. But we’ll definitely need help to remove this.” James patted therough bark of the fat limb that had skewered my life. If Alex were here, she’d probably tell me I was imagining things, that Beechum Senior’s lip didn’t curl in disgust and his look was nothing more than assessing our welfare. But she’d be wrong. There was nothing fanciful about the cold cruelty that sharpened his gaze.

“A lot of places have damage. Sadly, it’s a matter of triage. Could be a while before we can spare the hands. But I’m sure a strong lad like yourself will manage fine. You serve too?”

James’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’ll need help.”

“Like I said, could be a bit, might even be a few days. I’ll see what I can spare.”

“Is the damage really that bad out there?” James asked, turning from the sheriff to look at me.

“You questioning me, son?” Sheriff Beechum snapped, menace shadowing the question. “Maybe you should be a little less worried about breaking a nail. From what I see, it doesn’t look like y’all need help at all.”

Surprise exploded across James’ face. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.” The sheriff bent down to pick up a chunk of glass that had part of the Pride sticker on it and sneered. “Funny, I thought they didn’t let your sort into the Army. Then again, they let in Weathers.”

James crossed his arms over his chest, and I bristled. “And what sort would that be?” he asked.

“Don’t go gettin’ prissy with me. All I’m sayin’ is the military’s not what it used to be, what with letting fairies in and all.”

That was the last straw. I took an angry step forward. “Shut your damn mouth. You don’t get to talk to him like that. Sergeant Gallagher is a red-blooded American hero. He has saved more people than your tiny brain can imagine.”

“What did you say to me?” Sheriff Beechum turned an ugly glower on me.

“I said you’re a fucking bigot and I want you outta my damn shop. But first, you’re going to apologize to Sergeant Gallagher.”

“Marc,” James hissed as I continued to advance on the sheriff.

“No. He doesn’t get to come in here and insult you. He doesn’t know a damn thing about you.” I turned my attention to the sheriff, who was noticeably redder in the face. “Now apologize and get the fuck out.”

“Boy, you forget yourself. Step back or—”

“Or what? Are you going to trash my shop? Make my life hell, like your son? Come on,Sheriff, what are you going to do?” Each question flew out of me like bullets, glass crunching beneath my feet as I advanced on him.

“I will arrest you for public indecency and assaulting an officer of the law,” he snarled.

“Spec. Weathers, that’s enough.” James’ words cracked out like a whip.