La vida es bella
Arrow.S06E17.HDTV.x264-SVA[ettv]

Jilted Groom(4)

By: Mia Carson



Tonight he would get out of town and make his plans. Tomorrow morning would be the start of a wild ride, and he was going to enjoy every damn minute of it.

When he was too tired to keep his eyes open any longer, he pulled off at the first motel on the side of the road. If Sarah caught him staying at a place like this, she’d have a heart attack. He checked into a dimly lit room that smelled faintly of body odor and pot. He ordered pizza from whatever was close and lounged on the bed. In the morning, he’d hit the road again, maybe head all the way down to Miami and see what was happening there. It was summer, after all, which meant college girls and bikinis. A few one-night stands were long overdue, as were drunken nights spent not giving a shit about being hungover the next day. Before he fell asleep, he texted Tommy his plan, and the reply was a huge smiley along with several other emoji’s that made Edmund choke on his pizza with laughter.





Chapter 2



Kris shifted the phone from her right ear to her left as her Grams nagged her. She moved deeper under the hood of the old Chevy and nodded along with whatever the old woman said, though she wasn’t really listening.

“Just do it for me, will you?” Grams said with a sigh.

“Grams, I don’t think lunch with Dennis is going to do anything except piss me off,” she said and grunted as she worked on a bolt. “Damn it! Come on, you bastard.”

“Young lady, are you working while you’re talking to me?”

Kris immediately dropped the wrench and sprang up out of the truck, glancing around as if Grams would fall out of the sky and into her shop. “What? No, never. I’m all ears.”

“And you’re full of shit,” Grams snapped. “Did you hear anything I’ve been telling you?”

“Course, I heard it all—lunch with Dennis, he’s my brother, and on and on,” Kris said as she wiped her oily hands on a rag hanging from her jumper pocket. “We don’t exactly get along anymore, and I’m not sure I want to give him a—God, what are we on now? Sixth chance? Seventh?”

Grams didn’t respond, and Kris pulled her cell from her ear to check the call hadn’t dropped. “Grams, you there?” she asked and worry clenched her chest. Grams was in her sixties and still kicking, but that didn’t mean she was immune to a sudden heart attack. “Grams, if you don’t answer me, I’m calling the Jameson twins.”

“Don’t you dare bother those boys,” Grams said loudly, and Kris jumped as she whipped around.

Glaring at her Grams, she ended the call and shoved her cell back in her pocket. “I knew you were watching me.”

The short woman with long, white hair braided over her shoulder shrugged as she shoved her cell in her large tote of a purse. “I know you, Kristen, and I knew you wouldn’t say yes to me over the phone.”

“So you came to harass me in person? Great, that’s great. The answer is still no,” she said, dug around for her wrench, and ducked back under the hood. “I don’t know why this matters so much to you, anyway. He’s doing fine in town. He has a job, he’s living with me in our tiny little house, and he hasn’t touched a drug in months.”

“And how many words have you said to him in the six months since he’s been back?”

Kris’s head hung low as she worked at the stubborn bolt, her biceps flexing as she tugged and heaved before the damn thing finally sprang loose so fast she nearly toppled into the truck’s engine. Wiping sweat from her forehead with her arm, she slung the bolt onto her worktable close by and swung the wrench onto her shoulder. Dennis was her older brother, and since they were teenagers, he had been in trouble with the law. This last time had been the worst, and he’d spent four years in jail. He was out now, living with Kris in the tiny two-bedroom-one-bath house she managed to scrape up enough money to buy so she could get out from under Grams’s thumb. As far as she could in this tiny ass town. Though it was true Dennis had behaved himself, Kris hated the idea of getting close to her brother again only to have him let her down hard.

“I don’t know, Grams,” she whined. “Do I really have to?”

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