Flip (Next Level Book 2)

Erin’s home much sooner than I expect. I hear her car door slam shut and look out the kitchen window just in time to see my girl march around the side of the house to the gate. What the hell? I run into the living room and see her heading through the backyard and straight into the shed.

She comes out a few seconds later with a baseball bat.

My girl looks like she’s ready to use it on someone’s head.

I open the back door for her. “Erin, what’s wrong?”

She shoves past me and now I can see she’s been crying. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and the tip of her nose is pink.

I want to slaughter whoever has made her cry. “Erin. Talk to me. What’s happened?”

She doesn’t say a fucking word as she marches into the basement. I swear I feel like I’m in a twilight zone. “Erin!”

She storms over to the hot water heater and swings that goddamn baseball bat.

My girl hits it over and over. Wham! Wham! Wham!

She screams and cusses at it. Bam! Boom!

She kicks it so hard her shoe flings off. Then she kicks the other high heel off and starts swinging the bat again.

She’s also starting to make some real damage.

Shit!

I grab Erin by the waist and haul her back, even as she screams and kicks. “You’re going to make it explode!” I yell.

“Let it blow up! Let it all blow up! I don’t care! I hate this house! I hate it!” She tries to hit the hot water heater again and ends up throwing the baseball bat at it instead because I won’t let go of her.

Then she sags in my arms and starts crying so hard I can’t make out anything she’s saying.

I smooth the hair from her face. “Slow down, baby. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I saw him. He works at the stupid company! He lied and then basically accused me of stalking him.”

I still. “Who?”

“Stanley.”

“Stanley who?”

“Stanley, Brendan’s f…” She can’t even bring herself to call this man Brendan’s father because he never was one.

“Okay.” I get it now. There’s no need for to explain further. I don’t want her more upset than she already is, nor do I want her wasting energy on a piece of shit that doesn’t matter. “How can I help?”

If she wants me to leave and give her space, I will. If she wants me to go kill the man, I will. If she wants me to hold her while she falls apart, I will.

“What time is it?”

“It’s…” I glance at my watch. “Four fifteen.”

She sags in my arms and lets me hold her. Why do I feel like she’s only giving herself a fifteen-minute mental break before she gears up for the next thing on her to do list?

“How about we go for a walk?”

“I don’t want to go for a walk.”

“Then let’s go sit outside and get you some fresh air.”

She swipes the tears off her face, smearing her mascara and I’m so sad for her because I don’t know what to do other than take her hand and lead her up and out the back door to sit on her patio. The sun’s been swallowed by gray clouds, and I think rain is coming.

“Of all the companies in all the world, how did I have this kind of luck?” Erin starts crying again and all I can do is hold her.

“You’ll find something else.” And truth be told, my brother’s offer was real. Maybe I can convince him to let her work on his behalf in this area? Even as I think it, I know it won’t be possible. His company only focuses their business in the bay area. Erin would have to move and there’s no way she’d go that far away from her brother.

Beetle would be devastated.

“I’m done,” she says, pushing away from me. “I’m done being stuck. I’m done being mad about everything I couldn’t control.”

I brace myself for whatever she might say next. Instead, she leans into me and sighs.

“How can I help?” It’s the only thing I can think to ask. I just want to make it better. Erin doesn’t need fixing, but her water heater sure as shit does now. We’re lucky it didn’t explode.

Thunder rolls in the distance.

“Can you still get Beetle for me today?”

“Absolutely.” I’ll need to leave soon to make that happen.

“I’m going to the hardware store.”

“That water heater can’t be fixed, baby. You completely killed it.”

“I’m going for paint swatches,” she says, surprising me. “And carpet samples.”

My brow furrows.

“I’ve got money to fix this place up. Whether I sell it or stay, I can’t stand keeping it like this anymore.”

I have no words right now. She needs control and change and if this is how she wants to handle it, I’m not standing in her way. “Would you like me to come with you? We can grab Beetle together, then pick out paint and maybe get a pizza for dinner?”

She shakes her head. “I need to be alone for a little bit.”

My heart sinks. “Okay.”

Erin reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Thanks for this.”

A sinking feeling hits my gut as she gets up and walks away.

•••

Erin

By the time I’m halfway down my road, it’s pouring. Perfect mood setter. I’m stormy too. Brooding and dangerous, I’ll feel like a hurricane once I get started on making my house different.

I’m sure this is just me projecting my shit show life onto drywall and hardwood, but I don’t care. And though this is probably not the best time to begin such a huge project, I know if I don’t start now, I never will.

Because I never have.

If I wait another day, I fear I might always live with my stained carpet and faded painted walls, and crappy sofa. I’ll turn into an old shrew full of resentment and be miserable. And I may not be able to afford all the changes I’ve envisioned making to my house, but I’ll at least get some of it done and that’s a start.

I need to do it so I’m no longer stuck.

Rain pummels down and my windshield wipers do little to help me see. Turning my hazards on, I go slower and keep alert. The storm lasts for about three minutes then lifts a little. Thank fuck. I drive in silence with just the annoying rhythm of my wipers going.

Maybe I’ll take Cole up on his offer. Maybe moving far away from here is what I need. I don’t want to be in the same town or anywhere near Stan. I can’t believe how that asshole treated me. I can’t believe I ever slept with him. I can’t believe—

A car hydroplanes ahead of me and does a three-sixty. My instinct is to slam on my brakes which sends me spinning too because it’s the wrong move to make.

I miss the car by mere inches. WHAM! I hit the guardrail and my body jars.

Shit! Another SUV slides up behind me, and all I can see are headlights before I’m rocked back and forth as my car jerks and air bags go off. Stars burst in my vision and I can’t breathe.

Then time stops.