“It’s okay. I understand.” I twist around to unearth the person responsible for the hairs on my nape standing to attention. Kristin is at the entrance of my kitchen. Her arms are folded in front of her chest, and her brow is bowed. “I’ve got a few things to settle as well. We’ll talk more tomorrow?”
After murmuring “okay,” Regan disconnects our call.
“I knew it!” Kristin throws her hands up in the air. “You’ve pushed aside your pledge to Dane—again!”
“No, I haven’t.” I shadow her into my living room.
While she tosses aside the couch cushions to pull out the sofa bed hiding beneath, my eyes stray to my bedroom door. It is shut, and no light is shining beneath it. The girls sleeping routine must have dramatically improved, because any time I put them to bed, it took three stories, numerous trips to the bathroom, and at least two requests for a glass of water—hence the toilet breaks.
“You said you’d get the man responsible for Dane’s death. That nothing would stop you from getting justice.” Kristin lifts her tear-welling eyes to mine. “You failed to mentionher.God, Alex! She aborted your child, refused to answer your calls for months, yet you still follow after her like some sick little puppy.”
“She didn’t abort my baby. It was a misunderstanding.”
Kristin glares at me like I’m an idiot. I understand her response. I was so convinced it was Regan who visited that family clinic, my mind still occasionally slips into the negative void her supposed deceit caused.
“She also didn’t sleep with Isaac.”
Now Kristin’s glare really ramps up. “How do you know this?” Although she’s asking a question, she continues speaking, foiling my chance to reply. “Becauseshetold you it didn’t happen.”
“Yes—”
“And you believed her? Oh my god. I thought you were smart.”
My back molars smash together. “Hey!”
You can’t miss the warning in my tone. She’s my best friend’s wife and the mother of his daughters, but I’m not going to be treated as a leper in my own home. I also refuse to allow her to speak of Regan in such a derogatory manner. She’s barely mentioned her name, but the scorn on her face says more than her words ever would.
“Just like Dane, Regan’s caught in a fight she doesn’t belong in.” Kristin’s eyeroll stops halfway when I quickly add on, “Furthermore, Dane had no issues with me dating Regan when he was alive, so why do you have a problem with it?”
My question stumps her. Her mouth opens and closes, but not a syllable escapes her lips. I fill the silence. “If you’re worried my relationship with Regan will somehow alter my bond with you and the girls, you have nothing to be worried about. You guys will always have priority in my life.”
“We just won’t be your first priority, right?”
Stealing my chance to assure her that they’ll always have a top spot in my list, she thrusts a blanket and pillow from my linen closet into my chest before ambling to my room.
“I traveled all the way here to see you because the girls missed you, and what do they get? A man who couldn’t wait ten minutes before sneaking off to call the woman responsible for their daddy’s demise.”
“Kristin. . .” My words trail off when she brutally slams the door I replaced my first day back in Ravenshoe.
Thirty-Three
Alex
Between Kristin refusing to speak to me and Addison’s tears because I couldn’t spend today shopping for a Christmas tree because I have to work, my mood is at the point of snapping. Add that to Isabelle’s court hearing yesterday, and her impromptu meeting with her brother, and you’ve got a dangerous recipe. I’m exhausted, annoyed, and frustrated as fuck.
The more information we amassed from Isabelle’s kidnapper, the more Kristin’s statement two nights ago rang true. I’ve either been walking around with blinders on the past eighteen months, or Isaac’s feelings for Isabelle have him making careless mistakes.
Either way, the visit I’m making to Isaac’s mega mansion with Ryan will create ripples. Unfortunately, they’ll most likely affect my relationship with Regan more than anything.
We’ve been in contact the past two days, but only an occasional message shared between the times I’m not following clues in Isabelle’s case and sharing ghost stories with Isla and Addison around the makeshift fireplace in my living room. I’m dying to see her, but I’m not the only one tied up with family business.
Regan is as busy as me. Her family has come down for Christmas, meaning her penthouse is crammed with more visitors than the two she had last week.
“Did you advise them we’re coming?”
Ryan shakes his head as he guides his unmarked police car down a pebbled driveway. “Any requests I log are always denied by his legal team, so I figured a sneaky approach would be best.”
I shake my head to hide my smirk, grateful my department’s requests aren’t the only ones Regan shoots down. I doubt Regan could hold back the authorities for long on this case, though. It’s not every day your client is accused of kidnapping and assaulting the police officers who arrested your girlfriend.
