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“Some beauty queen from Dallas wants to meet you.”
“Well, I don’t want to meet her.”
Of course, someone is looking to hook up with him. The Howards are the richest, but the Gold family isn’t that far behind.
“I know. That’s why I’m helping you out.” She gives me a look. “You need to look out for her too. I heard her talking over at the bar. She’s all about finding a rich husband. You both qualify.”
“Duly noted.”
“She’s in purple, has hair bigger than Texas, and is roaming the room with a pack of other women. Not hard to miss. Come on.”
She drags her brother away to save him, and I find myself smiling. It’s the same kind of relationship I have with Nancy. At least when I’m around. I know I’ve always been…distant because she lives in Juniper. My memories here aren’t that great. Those early years of my parents’ marriage falling apart and being bullied still get to me. I need to deal with them because I love Nancy and want to be around her more.
I just have to get my house back.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and roll my eyes.
Trev:Hey, get your house back?
He has been texting me every freaking day. He’s enjoying my predicament a little too much.
Me:No.
Trev:Leave her the house and come to New York before I do something stupid.
It’s the second time today that he’s asked me to come to New York.
Me:Stupid?
Trev:Never mind.
Oh, no, that doesn’t sound good. I step further into the alcove and call him.
“I told you to never mind.”
“Yeah, but if you weren’t worried about your behavior, you wouldn’t have said anything.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you never worry about your behavior.”
He snorts. “True.”
Then, nothing. A niggle of worry wormed into my gut. “Trev?”
I know he had some issues with PTSD when he returned from deployment, but he told me he got help for it.
“Oh, I just got Jon’s worried voice.” His mocking tone might upset other people, but I hear the fear under it. It’s simmering in the background.
“Trevor. Tell me.”
He sighs. “I’m having issues with my…needs.”
I frown. “Needs?”
“I just feel out of control.”
His PTSD didn’t come in the form of violence or depression. He became a speed junky, always looking for the next high.
