Page 38 of Released (Caged 3)


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“Tria, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I told her. “Just stand out front with Wade, okay?”

“Okay.” She sniffed again.

As much as I hated to do it, I hung up the phone and handed it back to Michael. A minute later, I was in the back of the Rolls, and Damon was heading down the drive.

“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked Damon.

“Of course, Mr. Teague,” Damon replied. “I’ve taken your uncle to that particular venue many times.”

I tried to remember how many times Michael had come to Feet First and realized it had to have been a lot more often than once a year. I’d catch glimpses of him every now and again but usually chose to ignore him. Sometimes he’d approach me, but usually he gave up and left without saying anything.

How many times? How many times had he been there, trying to help me, and I’d just been a complete ass to him? How many times had Ryan done the same thing? How many times had Chelsea called just to have me hang up on her?

God, I was a dick.

Michael had come to make sure I was all right in Portland, and I had punched him for making what was probably a pretty reasonable assumption about the kind of company I kept. Even after I did that, he stayed and tried to get to know Tria. He had even left us cash for the trip.

He knew I wouldn’t ask for it, and he knew we must have needed it, or we wouldn’t have gone to his hotel in the first place. He’d done all of that for us…well, for me. He hadn’t known Tria. He didn’t want anything in return. He was just there. He was there for me.

Fuck.

I rubbed the palms of my hands on my jeans and closed my eyes for a minute. My stomach was cramping up on me again, but there were so many fucked up thoughts going on in my head, I didn’t know which one to blame.

Glancing out the window, I recognized the area and knew we were close. There were a bunch of people standing around Feet First—smoking and just hanging out. I couldn’t see Tria at first, and I felt panic welling up inside me.

She said she needed to see me, but what if she changed her mind? What if she realized what a total dick I was and decided to just head in any direction away from me—cut the ties, cut her losses—and just go?

Damon pulled up to the curb just outside of the bar. Tria must have recognized the car, though it stood out in this neighborhood anyway, and immediately appeared through the middle of the crowd. She ran over to the car’s back door, yanked it open, and jumped inside before Damon had the chance to walk around to open it for her. The door slammed closed behind her, and she threw herself at me.

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For the first time since she told me about being pregnant, everything felt right again.

Her scent was no longer just imagined but surrounding me—filling the back of the car and my head with everything that was good and right in the world. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against my chest. She scrambled into my lap as Damon maneuvered the car back into the street and toward the highway. I held on as tight as I could, as if my whole being depended on her closeness.

Maybe it did.

As her tears hit my skin, I couldn’t help but cry with her. She cried into my shoulder and neck, and her body shook so hard, I kept feeling like I could lose my grip on her.

Except I wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I’m sorry!” Tria sobbed. “I’m so sorry! I never should have left you…”

“You should have…I deserved it. God, Tria, I’m sorry…I’ll never let you down again…I swear.”

“I was just so scared, and I didn’t know about it all…”

“I never told you anything…”

“I was afraid for the baby…”

“I was such a fucking asshole to you…to everyone…”

“You said you were using again…”

“You were just gone, and I freaked…”

“I didn’t know what to do…”

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