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Eva sighs and throws her hands up, muttering something in Swedish. She stands up and carries her plate over to the sink. Leaning against the counter, she turns to me, her crystal blue eyes serious.
“If you only take one thing from me, take this,” she says. “You’ll regret not telling her. You might have your reasons, but eventually you’ll regret it. Trust me.?
?
“Spoken with experience,” I say and she just shrugs.
She walks over to the couch and picks up her handbag, throwing it over her shoulder. “I don’t have time for this. I’m going to go. Let me know when you’re ready to be a man.”
As I watch her leave, I don’t even know what to say. Why is she so passionate about my fucking life? She’s as bad as Ariel. What is it with chicks wanting to interfere? They just can’t help themselves.
I toss my own plate into the sink and wander into my room. Walking over to my wardrobe, I think about the last time I saw Laurie. She was standing in my doorway, clutching that stupid bunny she insisted on carrying everywhere, begging me to let her hang around with me for the day. Normally I’d have let her, but I was angry at the beating I’d just received at the hands of my stepfather—all thanks to Laurie. She’d told him about me being late to pick her up from school, even though I’d begged her not to tell. I reach behind my back and under my shirt, wincing as I run my fingers over my scars.
Feels like it was yesterday.
I slide open the wardrobe door and reach up above the top shelf. Right at the back I have a small cardboard box stashed. I bring it down and sit on the bed, the box in front of me. One by one I go through the photos, the only memories I have of that part of my life. Most of it I’d be happy to forget—the constant abuse at the hands of not only my stepdad, but often my own mother—but hidden among those were the odd good memory.
Mum was sick. I knew that, but it didn’t make my childhood—or lack of it—easier to swallow. If anything it made it harder, because as much as I wanted to hate her, I couldn’t. How confusing is that for a fucking kid? I learned very young that it’s the people closest to you that will hurt you the most.
I pick up a photo of Laurie and smile fondly, running my fingers over the faded gloss. This was taken the day after her sixth birthday, which was when she got that stupid bunny. She took him everywhere. I asked her why once and she told me he would protect her when I couldn’t. But he didn’t save her that day.
I had the chance to and I didn’t.
Shoving the photos back into the box, I feel anger surge through me. She’d still be here if it wasn’t for him. And for that I’ll never forgive him. Just like I’ll never forgive myself.
Standing up, I storm back into the living room where I grab my keys. I’m done. I’m sick of trying to work out why the hell he’s back. I have nothing left to lose because he’s taken the only thing I have left to care about. Fuck the consequences, I need answers and I’m going to get them.
One way or another, this ends tonight.
Chapter Twenty
Lacey
Ariel: Call me? I’m really worried about Lucas.
I read the message from Ariel, a twinge of guilt rippling through me. She’s being more of a friend to him these days than I have. The truth is, I’ve been avoiding him because it’s easier than dealing with my feelings for him.
“Lacey, are you free tonight?”
I turn around and smile. Aaron leans against his desk, his dark eyes studying me. It’s Friday night, and like most Fridays, I don’t have anything planned.
“Sure,” I say.
“Great. One of my friends is in town. We’re meeting for dinner and I thought you might benefit from meeting her.”
Her? Why does that single word crush me?
“Sounds great,” I say in an overenthusiastic tone to hide my disappointment.
I don’t see him much for the rest of the day, so I busy myself by pretending to study the case when really I’m searching Google for any female connection to Aaron who might be the mystery woman joining us for dinner. I slam my laptop shut and lean back against my chair. I’m crazy. I have literally gone insane.
Aaron picks me up right on seven like he promised. He wears the same suit he was wearing at work, which makes me think he came straight from there. Not that it matters. He looks incredible anyway.
I slide into his car, aware that he’s giving me the once-over. A shiver races down my spine. I hope he appreciates that I raided Ari’s closet, stealing her favourite navy blue silk dress, the front cut so low I’m afraid I’m going to fall out.
“You look stunning,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing through me. Then he laughs, shifting the car into gear. “Sorry, I have no idea where that came from.”
“I’m not complaining,” I say, biting my lip. Inside I’m bursting, loving that I’m having an effect on him.
