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“You’ll forgive yourself. I’m not going to tell you that you shouldn’t feel guilty because that won’t help you. It’s not that easy. Feel that guilt until it dies out inside of you. But don’t let it burn you alive.”
“I won’t,” I promise, unable to give anything more than that.
There’s a moment of silence before she asks, “Have you heard anything from the police yet?”
I fight off a nervous swallow. “It’s only been two days.”
“I know. I’m just hopeful, that’s all. You know how I get. I worry about you.”
“I’m sure we’ll hear something from them within a couple of days.” The lie sounds guilty even to my own ears. I pray she can’t hear it too.
It won’t be the police taking care of Cole; it will be us. Me, Noah, and Alec—a new, surprising ally. Dad has a small part to play, but it’s enough that I feel disgustingly guilty for him having to lie to Mom. It feels like a criminal offense to lie to her about this. Especially knowing her history with my stalker.It’s better this way, I remind myself. If she doesn’t know what’s truly happening, we can protect her from the pain of it.
“I hope so. It’s so unfair for this to be happening to you. Look at you—you’re my beautiful, happy, successful daughter who’s out in the world living her dream. I want this person to pay for threatening to take that away from you,” she declares.
I let her anger find mine as it grows stronger, potent in the air.
“Me too, Mom.”
We’ll make him pay for what he did to her, to Noah, and to me. He’ll pay for his actions over and over again until he can’t any more. Until we’ve broken him so deeply it will be impossible for him to put himself back together again.
* * *
Lettinga man like Alec into our home feels an awful lot like welcoming a wolf into a fox’s den. If the fox’s den already had its own wolfish bodyguard on retainer.
The new relationship between Noah and Alec is dangerous yet fragile at the same time. Like glass before it shatters into shards sharp enough to flay skin. I find myself holding my breath when they’re in the same room, anticipating the first blow.
It’s been two days since Alec waltzed in with his plans for how to handle Cole. Two days of waiting to enact such plans. Of staring at the blocked number on my phone that I won’t ever forget belongs to Cole, trying to get myself to just unblock it and get a move on. I don’t want to need someone involved with this outside of Noah, but Alec wants the same thing we do, and he has the means to get us there. Even if I don’t trust a damn thing about him outside of that.
“You’re a boxer, right?” Alec asks me, his voice smooth as warm butter.
“Yes.”
With a slow drag of his eyes, he looks at Noah sitting beside me on the couch. “And you’re in a boy band?”
“Do you intend to play twenty questions with us all night, or are you finally ready to get this fucking done with?” Noah asks between clenched teeth.
Alec clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Didn’t your daddy ever teach you about patience?”
“He was too busy teaching me not to talk to strangers. Imagine if I had used those lessons the day you barged into my hospital room. You’d still be looking for Cole behind dumpsters and crack houses,” Noah remarks.
Alec smirks, but it’s deceptive. The kind of smirk I’ve seen a million times on Noah’s face in the company of someone he can’t stand. “I love when you get feisty. It turns me on.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I interrupt. If we don’t do this soon, I worry I’ll lose my confidence and chicken out. I’ll never admit that to anyone, though. “Can I text him now?”
The arm Noah has wrapped tightly around my upper back flexes. Alec drapes his large body over my new fuzzy black armchair and nods.
“Have at it.”
Suddenly, the weight of what we’re about to do crashes into me. My fingers begin to shake as I swipe open my phone and find the blocked number already loaded and ready.
Long, tattooed fingers wrap around my wrist, steadying me. I swing my gaze from Noah’s hand over mine to the man himself. Dark eyes are already waiting. I fall into the depths of them, my breaths shallow.
“Do you want me to do it?” he asks, and I know he doesn’t just mean the texting. He means all of it. Every part I’m set to play tonight.
“No.”
His brows slide down toward his eyes. “You’re shaking.”
