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“That’s debatable, my dear,” he said, leaning in and kissing my forehead. “Now, please do me a favor and sit so I can make a call?”
The calm expression on his face and the soothing tone of his voice were nearly hypnotic.
“Okay,” I said, deciding to at least let him try things his way for a while. Nothing I had done seemed to work anyway.
“Good,” he said, then guided me to a seat.
Nick didn’t sit.
He pulled out his phone and meandered just far enough away that I couldn’t hear what he was saying. The confidence he exuded as he paced around gave me hope.
Hope that he’d figure a way out of this mess.
My mind had gone from panicked and crazy to still and quiet.
I stared endlessly at the flickering, florescent lights, wondering if my life would ever stop throwing crap in my direction.
It really was one thing after another.
A constant loop of life slinging the worst things possible at me.
And my family.
When Nick finally sat beside me, he grabbed my hand and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll have this looked after in no time.”
I peered over at him, doubting more than trusting that there was anything he could possibly do to help.
His eyes were so kind, but they also held a good dose of pity in them as well.
And that made my stomach sink when I realized he’d essentially known nothing about me or my family until five minutes ago.
Bile churned around and I had to swallow hard a few times to stop from getting sick.
I was sitting here—in a police station—with one of my Johns.
Another surge of alarm rushed into me.
I’d given him my name.
And now he knew about one of my siblings.
It was too late.
My grandma Eve would say, “Darling, the cows are out of the barn.”
Yeah, they sure freaking were.
Nick knew way too much about my life.
I took some deep breaths and considered my options.
Then I came to the same conclusion.
I had none.
I’d already blown things with Nick.
Our month of fun completely ruined.
