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“That is not what I did.” Her nails dug, cutting into her palms as the knot tightened inside her. Why didn’t anyone believe her? They always pushed, trying to get a reaction from her. Trying to make her feel worse.
“No. You got way more than a story. I gave you my heart on a silver platter,” he growled as he headed for the door. “Thanks for crushing it, Tinkerbell.”
She slammed her arm into her laptop, sending it flying into the vase and causing it to slam into the wall. Something shattered and knocked the lamp off the desk, and onto her bare foot.
“Damn it, you signed the contract, not me. No one tricked you into doing that. If I don’t write this story, someone else at Sports Illustrated will,” she shouted.
He swallowed and shook his head before walking out the door. She kicked the desk, sending it flying into the wall, before crumpling onto the floor.
All her anger deflated, and for the first time in way too long, she cried.
It was hard to know how long she had sat there. It felt like forever, and it felt like thirty seconds. Finally, warm hands carefully touched her arms. She looked up, expecting the two-tone brown eyes she adored to be staring back.
The cold slate gaze was jarring, and she flinched away.
“T-cup,” Nick said calmly, holding both palms out. Nothing about his demeanor seemed hostile, so she forced herself to relax.
“What—” But she stopped; she knew.
“Yeah, he reached out. Taran, my family has seen what’s happening right now more times than I can count. They’ve seen me when my anger is out of control, when I’ve forgotten something I was supposed to do, or when I’ve lost days or weeks of time. I have a flashback mid-conversation, and everyone but Morgan avoids using words that start with L. Everyone, including Corey, knows what trauma response can look like.” He sat next to her on the floor.
Taran glanced around. Her laptop was in two pieces, the screen shattered. Glass from the vase covered the floor, and the desk was at an odd angle, the corner stuck in the sheetrock. Taran groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “I guess I’m more surprised that he cared enough to send you?”
Nick shrugged. “He knows I’ve never chosen between team family and blood family, so as far as you two go, I’m Switzerland. I don’t know what happened, but the fact that he texted me made me haul ass.”
Taran swallowed the lump in her throat and started at the beginning. Nick listened, but silence stretched out for a long time when she was done.
“Corey knows he’s an idiot. Why didn’t you just tell him he signed the contract months ago?” Nick asked.
That was the question, wasn’t it? She ran her hands over her eyes.
“By the time he signed that stupid contract, I wanted him to trust me enough to do it.” She pulled her knees to her chest, trying to hold herself together.
“Why was that so important?” Nick asked.
He probably wanted the answer to be because she cared about Corey, which was true, but that wasn’t the only reason. She knew it. She wanted him to trust her because everyone she knew had questioned her at every turn for two years. Are you okay? Are you sure? She hated it. But now she saw that everyone asked the questions because they could see what she refused to admit. She wasn’t okay.
The front door opened.
“She okay?” The voice wasn’t the one Taran wanted to hear.
Seabass moved into the room, taking in the destruction.
“Sorry. I called him.” Nick smirked. “I wasn’t sure what shape you would be in, and he’s better at this shit than me.”
Like Nick had done, Seabass ignored the mess and came to sit on the floor beside her.
“Can we say the T word now?”
Therapy.
She nodded as she glanced around again. The mess she’d made was just a symbol of the disaster her life had become. “Yeah, I need some help.”
