His Greatest Treasure (Greatest Love #4)

Chapter 22

22

AVERY

I wake Monday with a migraine and a terrible attitude.

It’s the ultimate kick in the cooter after the high of a weekend I never wanted to end. Nova was sulky all morning, hardly eating and complaining every spare second she could find. We left the house with a bowl of soggy cereal sitting on the table and a bagged lunch with a KD cup and an apple in her backpack alongside her unfinished homework.

I’m sure I failed some hypothetical mom test this weekend, and this terrible morning is my karma.

Nova wanted nothing to do with me when she jumped out of the car and headed inside her school, and I tried not to take offense to her attitude, but it still bit. I’ve been running through a handful of different reasons for her behaviour, and almost all of them come back to something I’ve done.

Did I push her into hanging around another man after being so disappointed by her father? Is she mad at me for what happened with Chris? Was I not supportive enough when she was upset? Did I just miss something?

I bury my head in my hands and groan. Motherhood is the greatest gift that can be given to anyone, but it’s not always sunshine and daisies.

Sometimes, it’s locking yourself away when you’re on the verge of screaming the house down, fearing that every choice you make is the wrong one and you’re going to screw your kid up without knowing it, and bottling your pain so you can be a pillar of strength.

It doesn’t matter that seven years have gone by. I still have no damn clue what to do half the time. Raising a child is a guessing game where every option is probably wrong in one way or another. There’s never one right answer, and learning that lesson on my own was torturous.

They say to find a support system for a reason. Between hormones, stress, and fear, raising a child is a test of will. And doing it alone tested me more than I anticipated.

Peeling my face from my palms, I let my arms fall to my sides. The new cash register rests on the counter in front of me beside the monitor that cost far too much of my budget. I’m sure it will be worth it in the long run, but as of now, all it is is a paperweight.

The grout between the floor tiles has gotten dirtier as the days have passed, and with only half the shop painted . . . I try as hard as I can not to get discouraged.

This was never going to be easy or quick, and it won’t suddenly be just because I’m tired and want it finished. A few more weeks and I’ll be surrounded by the smell of fresh flowers and chatting with husbands who need advice on what type of arrangement to order their wives to apologize for a stupid fight.

I swipe at the screen and start the process of connecting the monitor to the store’s Wi-Fi, getting it taken care of quickly before powering on the handheld card reader.

It only takes a few minutes to get everything set up, and when I check the time, I’m relieved to find there are only a few more minutes before I have to pick up Nova. Maybe I’ll stop and grab her an ice cream on the way. With any luck, it will win me back some po? —

A crash fills the street, the sound of metal hitting metal so loud I cover my ears and curl behind the counter out of fear. My skin flushes cold as I round the counter a heartbeat later and tumble out the door.

The commotion along the curb is almost as shocking as the crumpled car in the exact same spot mine was parked all day. I blink, ears hot. The crumpled car is mine.

Or it was.

I lift a hand to my mouth and gawk at the smooshed hood of a truck that’s pressed against the driver’s door of my car. Smoke leaks from beneath the truck as I clear the sidewalk, racing to where a man runs shaking fingers through his hair and rambles curse after curse.

“Did you hit my car?” I shriek, jabbing a finger at him.

Whipping my head to the side, I gape at the damage the entire left side of my car took. It’s completely crumpled, the frame shoved inward, glass shattered and spread all over the pavement. The fuzzy dice hanging on my rear-view mirror are still intact, so that’s a win.

“I didn’t mean to!” the man shouts.

“No shit! You just don’t know how to drive.” The shop is at the end of one street with another running horizontally past it. “Where did you think you were going? It’s a flower shop, not a McDonald’s drive-through! Did you completely miss the stop sign, or did you ignore it?”

He breathes quickly, continuing to make a mess of his hair. Glasses slipping down his nose, he makes no move to push them back up.

“I don’t know! It just happened. Do you think that I wanted to ruin my truck? I still have three years of payments on this thing!”

“I’m calling the police,” I hiss, patting my pants for my phone before remembering it’s inside. “I have to go back inside, but don’t you dare move! I swear to God that I’ll hunt you down and hit you over the head with a brick if you do. ”

“I’m not running.”

I don’t trust him in the slightest, but I leave him anyway, knowing I’m fucked out of any real choice. The first thing I have to do is call the police. Then I can properly freak out. Because what. The. Fuck!

There’s no time for this. No money, no second vehicle I can use while I get mine towed to a junkyard! Oh, my God. Nova. School. Pickup time.

My phone is still on the counter beside the register, and before I can talk myself out of it, I’m dialling the first person that comes to mind.

“Come on,” I whisper, tapping my foot on the tile.

The line rings and rings until it catches on his voicemail. A gruff, blunt greeting reaches me before I end the call and try him again.

Oliver’s at work. I know it, and I still call him a second time. Every ring in my ear is a shove further into the pit of embarrassment I can feel my heels sinking into. I shouldn’t be bothering him at all, let alone when he’s working. It’s needy, but still, I can’t hang up. Can’t call someone else. Don’t want to.

“Avery?”

My eyes water immediately, throat tightening up. “Hi.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nova—”

“Bateman? You good, Lieutenant?” a man whose voice I don’t recognize asks, voice deep and cutting. It’s a shock to my mess of a system right now.

Oliver seems to move away from the man because a second later, a door slams, and then he’s asking, “Something happen to Nova, princess? I’m leaving the station right now. Just tell me where to go.”

Something hot pierces my chest, right between the ribs. “Nova’s okay. She’s at school, and I need someone to pick her up. Something’s come up, and I’m going to call the school so they hold her in the classroom for a few minutes after the bell, but I still won’t be able to get there in time.”

“Why not? Did something happen?”

“My car—” I cut myself off, deciding to keep the accident to myself. “I’m stuck at the shop. I should have called your mom or Addie, but I just . . . I didn’t.”

“You always call me, Avery. Always. Doesn’t matter what I’m doing, okay? I’ll pick up your girl.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

There’s rustling in the background and a few mumbled voices around him. They’re muffled as if he’s put the speaker to his chest before suddenly pulling it away. “Do you want me to bring her to the shop after?”

“No!” I shout, wincing. “I mean, I’ll call your mom and see if she’s home to watch her for a couple of hours.”

“How about I bring her back here? That okay with you? My squad’s been asking about her all morning. About both of you.”

I lean against the shop door and watch the driver of the truck speak on the phone, still standing on the road. “You’re working. I’ve already interrupted your day badly enough with this.”

“You’re the best type of interruption, Avery. I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure I could swing it.”

Gnawing on my lip, I exhale and say, “She’d love to go to the station again.”

“Alright. Can you send me the address of the school and the classroom number? I’ll leave now and text you when I’ve got her.”

“Yes, I’ll do that.”

“You did good by calling me. Don’t get tied up in your head telling yourself otherwise. I told you that I’m here and that I want you to call when you need me.”

“Do you promise that it’s really okay?”

“I’ll promise you a million times if it makes a difference. You don’t have to do everything on your own anymore,” he declares, and for the first time in a long time, I believe those words.

“Thank you. You’ve really saved me today. ”

“You can thank me by explaining what happened when I see you later. I’m sending someone to the shop right now, and we’ll talk later. Her name is Rebecca Hart, and she’s a rookie but a good one. You need anything, you tell her.”

I furrow my brows and grip the door handle. “I don’t need you to send anyone. I’m good.”

“Then she won’t be there long. Just humour me, princess.”

“Fine. Okay.”

“Keep giving me attitude about it and we’ll be having a different conversation when I see you,” he warns, the sheer amount of heat in his words encouraging me to squeeze my thighs together.

“I didn’t give you anything.”

He hums low and deep. “I’m leaving the station right now. Send me that address.”

“Thank you, Oliver.”

“You’re welcome. See you soon, beautiful.”

I miss his voice the minute it disappears. Sending off the text with all Nova’s school info feels good, knowing that it’s Oliver who’s going to take care of her.

The thought of going back onto the street to speak with the car rammer again is a trigger for my migraine. Soon, the police will arrive, and it’ll only get worse.

Inhaling a big fucking breath, I straighten my shoulders and make the call to Nova’s school, knowing that I need to get this taken care of as soon as I can.