CHAPTER 90

“Fuck!” Carter threw his cell phone against the wall. It cracked in two pieces and plastic shards scattered everywhere. Like he cared. Like anyone had called him.

Jesus. The last couple days had been a fucking nightmare. After his fight with Macie, he’d needed a day to cool off. When he’d swung by the diner around the time she usually clocked out, he saw the faded sign on the front door: Closed until further notice.

Why hadn’t she told him?

Who said she didn’t? Maybe you didn’t hear because you haven’t really listened to her in the past few weeks.

Talk about being a self-centered asshole. Dammit. This art show had sucked the life out of him. Had it sucked the soul and the conscience right out of him too?

Yes.

Regardless. He needed to talk to her to set the record straight. To make her understand.

Carter didn’t bother calling Macie’s cell phone; he knew she wouldn’t answer. He’d called the Bar 9, in the guise of asking Gemma about Macie, but Gemma was curt with him. And vague.

Why?

Bec