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Her eyes bulge, staring up at me, flustered, from the floor when I stand.
“I warned you.”
She brings herself up while huffing, “Where does she think you are tonight anyway?”
“None of your business.” I tug my phone from my pocket, my pulse quickening. “When can I see Molly next?” I can’t wait until she becomes comfortable enough with me that I won’t have to deal with Jessa around.
“Whenever you want. Maybe you can have lunch with us tomorrow?” She holds up her finger. “Oh! We’re going to the city in a few days to shop for school clothes. She’s nervous about going to school. Maybe it’ll be a good experience for you to bond, and you can put her at ease.”
I nod. “Email me the details. I don’t want you texting me anymore. Lunch tomorrow sounds good.”
“Email, huh? You’d better tell Sierra dearest before she catches you in your lies.”
I point to her, fuming. “Stop with the fucking Sierra talk. I won’t say it again.”
“Why? If you’re soserious, why won’t you tell her? Are you ashamed of our daughter?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I halt, noticing Molly isn’t on the couch, which means Jessa put her in bed while I was sleeping.
When I walk out the door, I check my phone.
Cohen’s text is what woke me up.
I scroll down the screen.
My stomach drops.
Six texts from Sierra.
I check the time.
It’s after midnight.
Fuck!
26
Sierra
I trust him.
That’s what I repeat to myself while waiting for Maliki to come home. I wish he’d asked me to take his shift tonight instead of Mikey. It would’ve calmed my nervous thoughts.
I attempt to work on designs for the bar but can’t concentrate.
He’s hiding something from me.
I could’ve tagged along with him to Twisted Fox, and the panic in his voice told me he didn’t want me anywhere near that bar tonight.
Why?
I’ve texted him a few times and received one reply, saying he was busy and would be home around nine o’clock when a replacement came.
Nine o’clock was three hours ago.
I don’t call or text him again.
Screw that.
