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I creep through the kitchen and towards the bedrooms. It’s only a two-bedroom home and seeing as though my room was filled with my belongings, I check the master room first.
I push the door open and switch on the light, prepared to fight off whoever I need to fight off to get my house back, only there’s no one in here.
I take a quick look around and soon find myself gawking. This is just as I remember it when I was a kid. It’s not the mess it was after my father’s men raided through here, but the beautiful way my mother liked to keep it. There’s even that old photo she took of us on my ninth birthday.
What the fuck is going on here?
I back out of the room and dive for the door of my bedroom. I fly through it and stare in wonder. This isn’t a little kid’s room anymore, but it’s still my room. My clothes in the closet, my things on my desk, the photo of me and Tully on my bedside table.
This is my fucking room. but how? I don’t understand what the hell is going on.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, not giving a shit that it’s well past three in the morning and bring up Lacey’s name. I hit call and wait impatiently as it rings five times. She finally answers and it’s clear that she was fast asleep. “What the fuck do you want?” she groans, not very happy to be hearing from her favorite cousin at this time of night.
“What the hell did you do to my house?”
“Your house? What do you mean your house? Are you home?”
“Lace. Just answer the question.”
There’s a slight pause before she lets out a barely audible sigh. “It wasn’t me. well, it was sort of me. I helped, but it was Tully. She fixed it up years ago and now goes back every few days to keep it nice in case you come home.”
“You know Tully?”
“Yep. A lot has changed since you went away.”
I stare at the house in wonder. “Tully did this?”
“Uh-huh,” she murmurs. “She wanted you to have somewhere nice to call home so you wouldn’t be ashamed. I know she’s with Spencer now, but fuck, Sam, Tully is head over heels, crazy in love with you.”
Well…shit.
Chapter 5
Tully
“No, no, no, no,” I groan, rolling over in my bed and slapping my hand down on my bedside table. I feel around, searching for my phone only to find a photo frame, a pencil, and a bottle of water.
What the hell? I don’t remember having this shit on my bedside table. But more importantly…where is my phone? Last night was a disaster and I think it’s time for damage control.
I reluctantly peel my eyes open and instantly squint into the bright sun pouring through my bedroom window. Crap, this isn’t my bedroom. Well, technically it is, but it’s not my current one. The question is, how the hell did I get here?
One minute I was fighting with Spencer over…him and the next thing I know, I’m searching for the bottom of a Vodka bottle.
In fact, I think I can still taste it.
I think the mystery of how I got from the manor to how I got here is one that will never be solved. Well, more like one that maybe I’m a little too scared to solve. Scrap that! I know exactly how I got here, but I’m cool with acting as though I don’t.
My arm falls over my face, trying to block out the sun and I lay here for at least ten minutes before deciding that it’s time to get up and start putting my life back together. Too much was said between me and Spencer last night while not enough was said to Rivers.
I still can’t believe he is here. I’m pretty sure we talked at one stage, but truth be told, the details of last night are a little fuzzy. Actually, I better find my phone and start apologizing to Noah and Henley. I can’t be sure, but it’s possible that I ruined their wedding. Maybe I should double check that one with mom before I go and make a bigger fool of myself.
I push myself up in bed and the movement has the contents of my stomach churning. Shit. This is not good. I throw myself over the side of my bed while slamming my hand over my mouth. If it was in fact Rivers who brought me here, there’s bound to be a bucket down here somewhere.
Just as I knew it would, the bucket stares up at me from the floor and I hastily grab it before allowing last night’s mistakes to come pouring out of me.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! What was I thinking?
Once I’ve thoroughly thrown up as much as humanly possible, I sit on the edge of my bed, wondering how it all went so wrong. I’ve pictured the moment Rivers came back a million times. It’s like a movie that plays on repeat inside my head. I was supposed to shut him down. I was supposed to kick his ass in a big way. I was supposed to show him that he means absolutely nothing to me. He fucked up and he was going to know it. He was going to lose me and he was going to feel it.
