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Lachlan squeezed his hands into fists, and then his fingers found the bracelets.
“So you decided to call the number—why?” I asked. “Are you checking up on him?” Sounded like they were made for each other.
“No, I… Clint doesn’t know I’m calling.”
“Obviously,” I harrumphed. What the hell was this?
“Fuck, I…please, let me explain,” he said in a rush. “Clint told me what happened with the dog and his ex, Lachlan. So when I saw the photo, I…took a chance and thought maybe I could talk to Lachlan. I’m assuming you know him since you answered the number that was on the dog tag?”
When Lachlan narrowed his eyes, I said, “Did Clint put you up to calling here?”
“Absolutely not!”
“Does he plan on pressing charges over the dog bite?”
“That would be dumb since the only thing the dog did was ruin his pants,” he replied, and I breathed out in relief. “Regardless, that photo is blurry, and I…well, I sent it to myself and blew it up and figured out the number.”
My gaze flashed to Lachlan’s, who seemed just as confused. “Why did you go through so much trouble?”
“Like I said, I was hoping to speak to Lachlan. Marcie told me that—”
“You spoke to Marcie?” Lachlan blurted out.
“Lach, no…” I hissed. “This might be a ruse to get us to admit—”
He squared his shoulders. “If it is, then the damage is already done. But…I can hear it in his voice.”
“Hear what?” I whispered.
“Are you afraid of him?” Lachlan asked Jeremy in a steady voice.
It took Jeremy a long second to reply. “Sometimes.”
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” Lachlan asked.
“I think so, yes. Or maybe I’m just being irrational.”
“That’s called gaslighting,” I pointed out. “Don’t let him do that to you. Trust your gut.”
Lachlan frowned. “Easier said than done.”
“It is,” Jeremy admitted, his voice small and quiet. “He can be pretty convincing.”
I realized then that this conversation was not my place. I could never understand their shared trauma, so I handed the phone to Lachlan, kissed his cheek, and stood up.
I heard parts of their conversation from the kitchen, where I rummaged around for something to make us for lunch. I felt sick for Jeremy but also so fucking glad that he was brave enough to reach out.
And now that we knew the truth about Oscar and Clint’s pant leg, that seemed minor in comparison to the connection being made in the next room between two victims of the same man.
39
LACHLAN
I stood and began pacing, unable to believe what I was hearing. It was the same pattern of red flags, and Jeremy had only been dating Clint for seven months. I’d hung in there with him for much longer, and on my worst days, I still felt a certain shame in that.
“Listen, Jeremy, I know how hard it is to leave, to walk away. He’ll charm you right back into his bed,” I confessed, my face growing hot. I was embarrassed about what Foster would think until I remembered how supportive he’d been. “But you can always go stay with Marcie. That’s what I did, at first.”
“She said the same thing.”
Apparently, he’d called Marcie after her cryptic message. She hadn’t told him anything about me or given him my contact information, which I was grateful for, but in this case, I would’ve forgiven her.
But Jeremy knew all about me because Clint had told him about our relationship. Sometimes he even compared Jeremy to me to make him feel like shit. My stomach had turned at that revelation.
Foster brought me a glass of ice water, somehow knowing my parched throat needed it, and whispered, “He’s always welcome to come stay here too.”
“Thank you,” I mouthed to him, then took a big sip.
Damn, I was grateful for him, every single day.
“I don’t know if you heard Foster, but he said you’re more than welcome to find a safe haven here with us too.”
“Foster?” Jeremy said, learning his name for the first time. “Is he your boyfriend?”
I hesitated, hoping Foster hadn’t guessed right earlier and that Clint was right there listening in and hearing everything I was saying. But I didn’t think so, not with the shit Jeremy had confessed.
“He is my boyfriend.”
Foster’s mouth turned up in a smile, and he leaned over to peck my lips.
“Are you happy?” Jeremy asked as I crouched down to pet Oscar on his pillow.
“Very happy.” I could feel Foster’s gaze pressing in on me, but I couldn’t look at him right then. “So it’s possible to move on from Clint and find yourself again.”
“Thank you for that,” Jeremy said, and I thought maybe under different circumstances, we could’ve been friends. And maybe there was still that possibility in the future, but for now I wasn’t going to even offer my number for fear of Clint coming across it in some way.
