Page 40 of Wrecked for Love (Buffaloberry Hill #1)
CLAIRE
Pizza last night hadn’t been a disaster, thank goodness. Another evening was spent watching Yellowstone , though I’d passed on the Valley Wolf. I didn’t want to tempt fate with my nausea.
My shift at Paul’s passed quickly today. The shop was busier than ever as winter took hold. It was amazing how many things broke just because of the cold temperatures.
Annette was out, tied up with things her mother needed her to do, though I was pretty sure she’d rather be here trying to wrestle a stack of rogue paint cans or battling a sudden avalanche of screws than getting stuck at home.
That left me alone in the stockroom, not that I minded.
Sometimes, she could be a bit of a distraction.
I was in the middle of stacking boxes when the back door creaked open. I wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not through the back. Customers didn’t usually come this way.
Pivoting, I spotted a familiar face—Fritzy, Elia’s new ranch hand.
“Fritzy! Fancy seeing you here. Shopping for the boss?” I cheered.
His response felt like he’d just been caught shoplifting, which, of course, he hadn’t. “Miss, Mr. Lucas needs you.” I couldn’t quite grasp his tone. It wavered somewhere between unease and something hidden.
I straightened. “What? What happened? Couldn’t he call me?”
“He knew you’d say that.” Fritzy shifted uneasily. “His phone’s busted.”
“Damn. Okay, just let me tell Paul.”
“We need to hurry—” He glanced nervously over his shoulder.
“Fritzy?” I took a step closer, my pulse quickening. “What’s going on?”
“You have to come with me!” His voice cracked, his hands gesturing urgently.
Just then, Paul walked in, looking surprised to see someone else in the stockroom.
“Hey, Paul,” I said quickly. “This is Fritzy, Elia’s ranch hand.”
“Oh, yeah, we met. Didn’t you stop by with Hank the other day?” Paul asked, relaxing slightly.
Fritzy answered, “Yeah. Sorry, I just really needed to talk to Miss Claire.”
“No worries,” Paul said, stepping aside to give us space.
“Paul, I might need to head out. Is that okay? I’ll make up the hours tomorrow.” I yanked my jacket from the staff locker and rushed to get it on.
“Don’t worry about it,” Paul replied easily. “I think the rush is over. I’ve got it covered.”
As soon as Paul disappeared, Fritzy motioned for me to follow, moving fast despite the falling snow. I paused just long enough to make sure the stockroom door was latched tight.
“Come on, Miss!” he pushed, hurrying me along.
I barely had time to tug my hood up before I caught up with him. He glanced around. Something felt off.
“Is he hurt? Is Elia hurt?” I pressed.
“Just come with me,” he urged, shifting from foot to foot.
I didn’t have my car with me since Elia had dropped me off this morning. So, it was convenient that Fritzy was able to pick me up.
He opened the passenger door of his truck, his hand trembling as he gestured for me to get in. For a split second, I hesitated, but the thought of Elia in danger pushed me forward.
I climbed into the passenger seat, and before I could even pull the door shut, a sharp blow struck the side of my head. Refusing to back down, I whipped around, ducking the next hit and catching Fritzy’s arm in my grip. But it wasn’t enough. I scrambled for my jacket’s pocket.
Shit! Where the hell was my Ruger?
Before I could figure it out, another strike landed, harder this time. My vision blurred, my body went slack, and everything around me dissolved into darkness.