She inhaled, her lips slightly parted. "Visiting my grandmother, Silas."
I wasn't sure if she was being honest or not. In fact, that was the whole problem with me and her. I couldn't tell when she was lying. She was a con artist, just like her parents. I didn't know if she was even capable of being genuine.
"Now, you, Silas," she said. "The arrest. What happened?"
"How did you know I was here?" I asked.
"My Nana," she said. "She heard it on her police scanner at the nursing home."
"I was asking seriously, Tempest," I said.
"That's the truth," she said. "Hand to God. My Nana and her friends like to listen to the police scanner because they're little old busybodies. She called me."
I laughed, and then so did she, the tension between us suddenly dissipating, aided by an old lady and her police scanner.
"Now you," she said. "Why were you arrested?"
"I was at my mother's house," I said. "Jed - the town sheriff - showed up, we got into it - just shit talking - and he pulled a weapon on me and arrested me. It's bullshit. Which is why I'm not worried about it. The charges won't stick."
"I didn't know about your mother, Silas," she said. "My grandmother told me. I was sorry to hear about what happened."
I shrugged. "You remember her, how she was," I said. "It's not like I was close to her. And then, finding out the shit she pulled with you and I...she was the only one who would have taken that letter and the money. When it happened, it tore me up. And she's the one who caused it."
"Still," Tempest said.
"Yeah."
"My grandmother said it was an overdose."
I clenched my jaw. "So they say."
"You don't believe that?" she asked.
"I don't know what the hell to believe," I said. "I don't know what the fuck is going on in this town anymore."
Tempest gave me a long look. "Huh."
"Huh, what?" I asked.
"That's exactly what my Nana said," Tempest said. She tapped her pen against her notebook, looking at me thoughtfully.
***
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
TEMPEST
"You don't even look like you spent the night in jail," I joked. "You're positively radiant."
"I feel fucking radiant," Silas said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. Dark circles lined his eyes. "Thanks for bailing me out. Even though you didn't come to the hearing."
"You're welcome," I said, grinning. "It was an easy bailout, since you were released on your own recognizance. I'd do it anytime."
"What's the helmet for?"
We stepped out onto the street. "My ride," I said. "Your ride."
"You're going to take me home on your bicycle?" he asked.
"If by bicycle, you mean motorcycle, then yeah," I said, pointing to my bike. "That's my ride, right over there."
"Are you kidding?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Nope," I said. "Take it or leave it."
"Holy shit," he said. "This is a nice fucking bike. What is this, a Harley?"
"Yep, a Road King. Hop on," I said. "I've only got my helmet, so I hope you're fine without one."
"I have a thick skull. But you're going to make me ride bitch?" he asked. But he was grinning. "All right, I can dig it. As long as I'm your bitch."
"My bike, my rules." I threw my leg over the bike and waited as Silas slid behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Then he slid his hands up further, cupping my breasts, and leaned in close to whisper in my ear.
"I like a woman who takes control," he said.
I slapped his hands off my breasts. "Just shut up and hang on."
***
"Do you want to come inside?" Silas asked, the moment suddenly awkward.
We stood there at the bottom of the stairs that led up to his garage apartment, like two people lingering at the end of the night on a first date, deciding whether we should go all the way or not.
"I -" I started to speak, but Silas interrupted me.
"I'd like you to come up," he said, stepping in close to me. "The apartment isn't much, just this place I'm renting from my old coach. It's nothing fancy. Not like Vegas, I mean."
"I'm not sure it's a good idea, Silas." My breath caught in my throat, my heart racing at my proximity to him. "You and me. I can't..."
I didn't even know what to say. There were so many "I cant’s"...
I can't stay in West Bend. With you.
I can't stop being a grifter. I am who I am.
I can't be honest. I don't know how.
I can't love you. I don't believe in love.
"You're the one who came back to West Bend, Tempest," he said, the intensity of his gaze unnerving me. "Are you going to tell me the only reason you showed up here was to visit your grandmother? After all this time?"
"I thought you lived in Vegas," I said. But my words sounded lame, even to me.
"Bullshit," he said. "That might be what you told yourself."
I shrugged. "It's the truth."
I was lying.