Jonas felt the cruel sting, but he hiked his chin. Chief Bishop knew nothing about who Cagney was or what she wanted. “She loves me. And I love her.”
“You love her?” The bastard’s eyes widened. “You best show that love by staying the hell out of her way, then. Isn’t there a little gal in that trailer park of yours you can date?” he said, imbuing the word with oily innuendo. “Whatever you’re trying to get from my daughter is probably freely available in that encampment of yours.”
Despite his best efforts, fury flamed inside Jonas. He’d never misused Cagney, and he never would. Beneath the stupid expensive tux, he began to sweat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I respect Cagney more than you ever have. I know she’s here. Let me see her.” He went to bypass the old man to get to the door, but a big hand on his chest held him back. “Cagney!” he yelled.
The hand became a fist, wadding his freshly pressed shirt into a mass of wrinkles as Chief Bishop lifted him slightly off his feet. “Go ahead, you little scumbag. Try to enter my house uninvited,” Chief growled through clenched teeth. “Arresting you for trespassing would be the perfect satisfying cap to my evening.”
Jonas lost his fight, and the older man took the opportunity to shove him back.
He staggered, then caught himself on the railing. Grasping on to his remaining dignity by a thread, Jonas tried in vain to smooth his shirt. “How can you live with so much hate inside you?” He couldn’t quite keep the quaver out of his voice.
The old man ignored his question. “Cagney did leave you a letter before she and Tad headed for the dance. Good kid, that Tad Rivers,” Chief mused. “Good family.” He allowed a moment for the comment to slice into Jonas like a rusty knife before pulling an envelope from his back pocket and holding it out. “I suppose you deserve to read it since she wrote it. Against my advice, mind you. My daughter owes you no explanation.”
Explanation of what? Jonas’s mind raced, and an icy sense of dread trickled through him. Eying the man warily, Jonas stepped forward and snatched the envelope. He tore into it, hoping for some clue as to why their planned “united front” had fallen so far by the wayside. Why hadn’t she returned his calls? Made some attempt to warn him that all hell had busted loose? They’d always protected each other.
He scanned the letter quickly, recognized Cagney’s writing. And the page had been torn from her favorite school notebook, the one with paper lined in purple that smelled of grapes if you rubbed it.
Bracing himself, Jonas read:
Dear Jonas:
I would’ve told you sooner, but I just didn’t know how. You’re a nice guy and you’ve been a good friend, but Tad and I started talking a few months ago, and I fell in love with him. It just … happened. It’s easier on me, too, because Chief approves. I hope you understand …
He couldn’t bear to read another agonizing word in front of Chief Bishop. The man’s gloating was nearly palpable, and the pain in Jonas’s heart was too intense. He crumpled the letter in one hand and stared off to the side. After a moment, he glared at the smug man before him. “You did this.”
“Cut the paranoia, boy. I had nothing to do with it. Read the letter. Cagney made her choice.” His tone smoothed into an arrogant purr. “It’s for the best.”
“When have you ever known what was best for Cagney or any of your daughters?” Jonas snapped, his voice hoarse with tears he could hardly hold back. “None of them can stand you, and everyone in this town knows it.”
Chief Bishop’s face reddened. “You have your damned letter, now get the hell off my property. And don’t let me see you here ever again.”
“Don’t worry,” Jonas tossed over his shoulder as he spun and took the steps two at a time, his world collapsing around him.
But, no more.
If ever there was a last straw, he’d just received it.
It’s easier on me, too, because Chief approves. Chief approves.
Approval.
He’d exhausted himself trying to attain that ever-elusive approval, with zero luck. Facts were facts: this town had been nothing but unwelcoming, if not downright hostile, to him and his mom from the moment they’d made the mistake of setting foot in it.
Just today, the owner of one of the bars Mom frequented kicked her out because she was two dollars short for her tab.
Two measly dollars. Literally.
The man left his mom humiliated and sobbing on the curb, as if she hadn’t poured enough money into that dive over the years. Jonas might not approve of his mother’s behavior, but she was kind and broken and vulnerable, and her coping skills weren’t the best, to put it mildly.
Now this.
All he and Mom had was each other.
That much was crystal clear.
The Gulch? Jonas was done with the whole damn place. Done. He might be poor, but he was whip smart and motivated, unlike so many of his classmates. He’d taken enough credits that he’d technically graduated in December, but had held out to go through the spring ceremony with Cagney.
His gut cramped.
As things stood, the school could send him his diploma, or keep it, for all he cared, because he never wanted to see any of his fellow students again, and that included Cagney. The only good thing about Troublesome Gulch had been her, and unbelievably, even their relationship turned out to be a lie.
Pain unlike any he’d ever felt seared through him. He needed to escape this hellhole as soon as possible. That was the benefit of living in a minuscule month-to-month rental, though. Not much to pack. If he had anything to say about it, he and his mother would be boxed up and out of this nightmare town tonight, and he’d never look back. He’d find a place for them to live where people judged you for what was in your heart, not your bank account. He’d work and he’d study and he’d show them all just how wrong they were about him.
One day, so help him God …
Jonas chucked the orchid corsage out of his window, clear plastic container and all, then spun gravel leaving the Bishop property. Who cared if doing so meant another point against him with Chief? None of that mattered anymore.
The prepaid cell phone he’d scrimped and saved for rang, and a stupid spark of hope had him wrestling it from his jacket to check the caller ID. Maybe, just maybe—
Tad Rivers.
Betrayal lanced through him, stealing his breath.
He ignored the rings and waited until the secondary tone told him he had a new message, then dialed in to listen to it.
Cagney.
From Tad’s phone.
Stars swirled in his head. So, it was true. All of it. She’d gone with Tad and didn’t even tell him. She’d let him waste money on a tux and flowers, then humiliate himself in front of Chief. How could she, of all people, do that to him?
“Jonas,” the message said, “please, please answer your phone. I want to talk to you about this. To explain. I’ll call you back. Okay? Please answer.”
Yeah, she’d call him back. Sure she would.
From Tad Rivers’s phone.
With his temples pounding, he glanced down at the letter that had nearly ripped the heart from his chest. Tears blurred his vision, and he wiped angrily at them with the back of one hand.
Done. Finished. Finito.
The