Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Gemma scratches her long nails over the back of my tuxedo jacket, murmuring soft words. It reminds me of when we were toddlers and I’d have a nightmare. We didn’t need our parents. We just needed each other. I was never scared or upset as long as I had Gemma by my side.
When I’ve let out enough emotion for one night, I sit up straight, stare out the windshield, and make the drive back home.
This isn’t goodbye.
It’s just a pause.
Only a horrible, painful fucking pause.
I will get through this.
The prize waiting for me on the other side is worth it.
Sloane
Jamie: How are you feeling today? Anything I can do?
I stare at my phone in disbelief. Last night, after the art event at PMU, Jamie apologized profusely on behalf of her son while I tried desperately not to cry.
It felt as though everyone was privy to the secrecy of our forbidden romance. As if a spotlight were shone right in my face, revealing to everyone that I’m a mess over my best friend’s son.
I’d expected ugly words from Jamie and Nathan.
Not apologies.
Not their shame and disbelief at what Dempsey had done to me.
I’d been too dumbfounded and brittle to correct them. Plus, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to bringing their wrath down on me.
Rather than admitting to the fact that this thing between me and Dempsey wasn’t one-sided, I allowed them to think it anyway.
I’m a coward.
Jamie: He’s out of control and I don’t know what to do. This was clearly a cry for attention from me and Nathan. You somehow got caught in the middle. I’m so sorry that happened to you.
I make no moves to respond. I’m caught in the middle because I put myself there. A bigger woman would tell her friend this and take the heat off the guy she likes.
And yet, I do nothing.
Dempsey definitely deserves better than the likes of me.
My chest aches as I think about him coming to my house last night. He’d been so eaten up with guilt for embarrassing me. I wanted, more than anything, to crawl under the covers with him so he could hold me until everything was all better.
I pushed him away.
He allowed me to.
Everyone is always talking about how wild and reckless Dempsey can be, but they don’t see the real man he is. His heart is huge and he boldly goes after what he wants. It’s admirable. Last night, he wanted me. Hell, I wanted him. Despite everything falling apart, I wanted him to undress me and make love to me so I could feel whole for one moment.
I’d asked him to leave because I didn’t have the strength to tell him no. And he did. He didn’t keep pushing for sex, sensing my hesitation, and pouncing on it. That’s not irresponsibility like everyone claims is his number one character flaw. He’s a deeply caring man I can’t seem to stop thinking about.
After he left, I bawled my eyes out, hugging my pillow to me and wishing it were him. I missed him the second he slipped out the window. Still, the next day, I ache for him.
I shoot Jamie a quick text.
Me: I’m fine. Promise.
Nothing is fine, though.
Everything is far from fine.
My phone buzzes again. I expect more of the same from Jamie, but it’s an unknown number.
Me: Hi, Sloane. It’s Rhiannon’s neighbor, Marianna. You asked me to text you if I saw her. Both her and Lenny just got home. They’re fighting. I can hear them arguing through the walls. I don’t want to get in the middle but just wanted to let you know.
Thank God.
Finally, a lead on my sister’s disappearing act.
I fire off my thanks and then rush through getting dressed. I’d love to put on my uniform and burst into their house with enough authority to scare both of them into trying to be better people for my niece and nephews, but that would be a gross overstep as a cop.
No, this is personal.
After I’m dressed in jeans, a simple black T-shirt, and a pair of worn-out tennis shoes, I grab my purse and keys. I find Kaden sitting at the bar, scowling.
“Morning,” I say, forcing false cheer into my voice.
“It’s noon.”
Okay, great. So he’s in a mood, too. I’m not in the right headspace, though, to deal with a surly teenager.
“Wasn’t feeling well,” I lie. “What’s wrong with you?”
He sits back on the barstool, glaring at me with narrowed eyes. “You’re no better than Mom.”
His harsh words strike me and I gape at him. “Kaden…”
“No,” he bites out. “You say she neglects me, but you never have time for me either.”
Ouch.
That’s harsh.
I’ve had a few bad days since I took him into my home, but nothing remotely close to neglecting him.
“You’re being unfair,” I tell him, using my steady cop voice. “What do you want to do?”