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“Are you done?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at her. “Since when do we do pity parties?”
Her head snaps in my direction. “You’re an asshole. I’m trying to apologize to you.”
“No. You’re playing the victim, or worse, the martyr. Even if you told me it was him, Cele, what would that have changed?” I pour us both another drink while she thinks.
“Maybe you’re right. Or maybe if I told you, you would have never been with him over spring break, and he’d have no one to blame for Micah getting shot in the first place,” she says.
I shake my head. “It wouldn’t have stopped Micah from getting shot. He could be dead if I wasn’t there.”
I grip the shot glass, remembering what happened today and how close Micah came to meeting his deathagain. I try to distract myself by pouring another drink, but I can’t seem to get my hands to stop shaking.
“What happened at that warehouse?” she asks quietly, grabbing the bottle out of my hand.
I close my eyes and start my breathing exercises, trying to keep my stomach from emptying its contents.
“He almost killed Micah.” They are the only words I can manage to say, hoping that I can keep what happened to me away from her.
“Why?”
My shoulders shrug up to my ears. “He’s a fucking sociopath. Or a psychopath, or maybe both. Who the fuck knows?”
She slides the glass to me. “There has to be a reason. He was working here last year, and nothing happened. At least, not that I’m aware of.”
I replay Ryan’s words at the warehouse. “He said something about being related to Elijah and Caleb and that Micah stole his life. Maybe he just recently found out.”
Her hand drops to the counter as she spins to me.
“Holy shit! Seriously? Do the guys know? Who is he saying are his parents?” She fires question after question without giving me a chance to answer.
“Calm down, reporter, give me a chance to answer.” I grin and start counting on my fingers. “One, yes, seriously. Two, I’ll leave it up to Micah to tell them. Three, Caleb’s mom and Elijah’s dad.”
“Do you think he was telling the truth?” She asks.
I tilt my head to her. “Do I care?”
I look up to the coffered ceiling as I think about the possibility of Ryan being related to Elijah and Caleb. Is it possible? Sure. Is it likely? Knowing who they are… absolutely.
I think the bigger question is, does the senator know? Thinking of them reminds me of the picture I have on my phone, and my body goes into fight-or-flight mode involuntarily.
I close my eyes and breathe deeply, trying to calm my anxiety.
I am not a fucking victim.
“So… How was it kissing Caleb?” Celeste questions, wagging her eyebrows, and I choke.
“I’m not going to talk about this.” I raise my hands in submission and slide off the bar stool.
She giggles, completely oblivious to my anxiety and clearly drunk. She follows me to the living room.
“Fine. What did you and Micah do last night? He didn’t seem all that upset that Caleb kissed you.”
I rub my temples. “Cele, it’s been a long couple of days. Can I indulge your inquisitive mind tomorrow?”
She sighs, clearly disappointed, but doesn’t push and lets me go to bed.
I fall asleep with visions of Micah’s mouth in between my legs while Caleb kisses me.
* * *
