John's POV
"What do you mean it's not handled?" John demanded.
He had the strong urge to throw his phone, but he wouldn't. He would never find out what bumbling idiot had screwed up so badly that they needed John to clean up the mess if he destroyed the phone.
"Fine, fine, I'll be there by this afternoon." John hung up before anyone had the chance to say anything else. He jammed his phone back into his pocket.
Paperwork.
Management at the bank needed him to go back to Huntsville to straighten out a mess that had been created by someone not doing the right paperwork.
He would drag his ragged, raw heart through coarse ground salt over paperwork.
John had left a lot of things unhandled in Huntsville, he was aware. He'd left half his stuff at the river house, knowing at some point he would have to go back for it.
But in that moment, when Rhiannon had looked at him with such betrayal in her eyes and commanded him to go, he couldn't stand to be in the city another second.