It's About Time (Blossom Peak #4)(7)

Twisting to face her, I watch for her reaction when I ask, “You’ve actually thought about it, haven’t you?”

There’s a quirk in her lips, but she recovers quickly, shrugging. “Even if I had, do you think I’d admit that to a lawyer?”

I release a bone-deep sigh at the mention of my profession. “Don’t remind me. I’m not exactly eager to go back to work and that life. But if I take any more time off, my father might fire me.”

She glances over at me. “Can he do that?”

“Technically, yes, since he owns the firm.”

Dilynne shakes her head. “You’d think he’d cut you some slack. Given the whole…public humiliation thing.”

I scoff. “Yeah, not sure that’s in Henry Thorne II’s makeup.”

She takes a slow turn and pulls up to a chain-link fence with a gate blocking the entrance.

“ Give me a sec.” Pulling out her phone, she shoots off a text, and then the gate in front of us slowly slides open. Dilynne moves the car into the vast space, and as I look around, I realize we’re in a junkyard full of old cars.

“What the hell…”

“Unclench your butt cheeks, Thorne. Everything will make sense in a minute.” She finds a spot to park, and then she’s hopping out from the driver’s seat before I can ask another question, walking toward a man who looks like he’s lost more teeth than he’s kept.

“Timothy!”

His nod is curt. “Dilynne. Good to see you, as always.”

“Thanks for letting us come by. I know you’re usually closed on Mondays.”

He hoists his pants up higher on his waist that’s hidden by a massive beer belly. “You’re the only person I would do this for. Say, did you ever find that part you were looking for?”

“The one for the Porsche?”

“Yeah.”

Dilynne shakes her head. “Nope.”

“Ah, well, you still have time.”

“I know. But a year goes by fast.”

I scoff at her words. Right now, one fucking day feels like an eternity. Thinking about how I might feel a year from now feels like an impossible task.

“You’ll find it.”

Dilynne nods and then turns around to find me. “This is Elliot, by the way.”

I lift a hand. “Hey.”

“Nice to meet you. Dilynne said you needed a little therapy.”

“Excuse me?”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. It ain’t that kind of therapy.” He turns back to Dilynne. “I left the tools out there for you.”

She pats him on the shoulder and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. “You’re a doll, Timothy.”

“Anything I can do to help. Just text me when you’re done.”

“Will do.” She spins to face me again. “Follow me, Grumpzilla.”

“Grumpzilla?” My feet carry me in the same direction that Dilynne is headed, taking in the piles of mangled metal on both sides of me. I’ve never seen so many destroyed cars before. Most of the piles are simply parts of cars—fenders, mirrors, rims, and everything in between. The tires are separate, though, stacked in towers near a fence on the back of the property. I can literally smell the rust in the air, which has me a little concerned.

“Yup. It’s your new nickname,” Dilynne says over her shoulder.

“That’s…surprisingly tame. You feeling all right?”

She shoots me a glare that’s sharp enough to confirm she’s exactly as unwell as ever. It’s when that look disappears that I should start to worry. “Trust me, I came up with worse options. Want to hear them?”

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I shrug. “Honestly, I’m just waiting for you to tell me why we’re here.”

Dilynne turns a corner and that’s when I see a white BMW sitting all alone with a baseball bat, sledgehammer, and blowtorch next to it. Dilynne walks to the car and turns around to face me, fanning her arms out like Vanna White. “Ta-da!”

The sight of this car is making my adrenaline spike. “What the fuck is this?”

“I know it’s not the exact model of Tori’s car, but it’s close enough.”

“Why the fuck…”

She grabs the baseball bat from the ground and a pair of safety goggles from the hood of the car before walking back over to me. “You’re going to beat the shit out of this car.”

Her hands are outstretched, waiting for me to grab the bat and goggles, but I’m frozen. “You…you brought me out here to fuck up a car that looks like Tori’s?”

Pride radiates from the smile on her face. “Hell yeah, I did. Trust me, this is better and cheaper than therapy. Though eventually, you should talk to a professional about that witch.” She walks back over to the car and knocks on the hood. “But this is a great way to let out your anger, Elliot. A great place to start, at least.”

Nowhere on my bingo card for this year did I anticipate Dilynne orchestrating something like this for me. Then again, I didn’t see my fiancée walking out on our wedding either. I’m at a loss for words, though. There’s so much running through my head that I can’t even pinpoint one single thought.

So instead, I don’t think. I grab the goggles and bat from Dilynne, slide the goggles onto my face, and tap the bat into the dirt as Dilynne backs away from the car.