Page 99 of Crash Course
Double phew. "That’s good. How’s it been?"
"The first few days I felt off. Tired."
"You were probably detoxing."
He shrugged. "I guess. Then, my energy came back and we’ve been busy, so I haven’t thought about it. I just . . . dang. I fucked up and I don’t want my family disappointed in me."
First crack in the armor, indeed. She sat back, bumping his shoulder. "I kinda love that you’re mature enough to own your mistakes."
"Hell, yes. It’ll never happen again. Ever."
"Did you tell Zeke that?"
He shrugged. "Yes and no. At the time, I was pissed at him."
She snorted. "Men. You’re all so stubborn. You need to talk to him. Assure him you’ve got it under control."
For a few seconds, he simply sat, taking that in. Now she’d see how determined he was to stay off the booze.
"Yeah," he finally said. "You’re right. I’ll do that in the morning."
Cilla jerked her head. "Excellent. And thank you for being honest. After seeing the bottles, I’d have wondered."
"Anyone would. I wanted you to know I’m not hiding it. I’ll always be honest with you, Cilla. Being unfiltered is my fatal flaw."
"I prefer that. I don’t enjoy deciphering messages." She patted his knee again and sat up. "As for the whiskey, you let me know if I can do anything. Otherwise, I’ll assume you have it under control."
"I do. I’m done with the nightly stuff. Maybe even altogether. We’ll see. Thank you."
"For what?"
"Hell, where do I start? Understanding. Being smart and kind."
She bumped his knee with hers. "You’re human and deserve a little grace. We all do."
Maybe even her Dad. Maybe.
Taking a deep breath, she pointed to the laptop. "Now, let’s get back to work since I want another round of hall-of-fame sex before I have to leave for work."
Cruz let out a low whistle. "Wicked woman."
She laughed, then sat forward to resume her hunt for information. Ten minutes later, after printing documents for Cruz, she landed on another folder entitledCases. She clicked and the screen filled with a list of documents that had to be at least fifty deep. All PDFs. She clicked the first one.
Oh no.No. No. No.
A settlement agreement.
She perused the document, her gaze darting along, picking up certain words that made hersounhappy.
Closing that document, she went to the next agreement. Same language, different case.
Dammit, Dad.
Sickness swirled inside her and a weird thrumming bashed her ears and made her head pound.
Ignoring her rebelling body, she clicked on the next file. Then the next. Over and over again, all settlement agreements.
Cilla sat back and threw her hands over her face.
