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I walk to my car as fast as I can walk while still walking. I get inside. Sit down.
Stare at the empty Volvo parked in the space in front of me.
What. The. Fuck.
Before the answer to that can land, I start up my car, get driving.
There's no room for me to sit here and process this how I need. Maybe I'll never process it. Maybe some things can never be processed.
Maybe there's no easy answer to falling for a guy who broke your heart already, and figuring out how to trust him again, and wondering if the feeling in your gut that it's wrong is knowledge or fear. God, and I still haven't told him.
Right now, though, I'm on my way to pick my daughter up from Mom's. That's the only thing that matters. That's important. That I have room for.
So, I drive the speed limit, stop at stop lights, and am very careful to not let myself think about what I've done.
As soon as Mom's powder-blue front door opens, Madison bobs up, halfway through tying her shoes, races to give me a great big bear hug. "Mom!"
She's got her hair in scraggly pigtails I can tell will be a job untangling tonight. Mom always was hilariously bad at doing hair.
Seeing her, it suddenly wells up in me.
God, my daughter - my beautiful, wonderful daughter.
"What's the matter, Mommy?" she says.
It's then that I realize I've been so caught up in myself that I haven't been hugging her back.
As I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight, it occurs to me, what I can't say: Mommy's keeping a secret, and it's wrong.
Chapter 13
Landon
What.
My eyes snap open. I don't remember falling asleep here.
I yawn, prop myself up partway. My gaze lands on the empty but ruffled other side of the bed.
OK, now I remember. But where's Kyra?
The door to the bathroom is open. Her dress is neatly folded on the white wooden dresser.
Gone?
I check my phone.
Nothing. Huh.
I get myself out of bed and take a shower. Even though the water pressure is just right, I don't stay in long.
As I brush my teeth, my reflection's wearing a scowl.
Something is up. Maybe.
After the Jacuzzi and wine - did I really drink three-quarters of the bottle? - my memory goes fuzzy.
At any rate, when I call her, she doesn't pick up. I get up and get going. I'm not about to sit around here moping about it.
I pack away my stuff, then get home.
Traffic's shitty and the radio is all sappy pop that makes me want to punch the steering wheel. Some punk would go nicely with my mood.
Back at my place, Nolan is waiting at my dinner table, somehow sprawled on two chairs. "Call me crazy, but I've heard a rumor."
"Not in the mood," I tell him.
I only feel like hitting the gym, really.
"Neither am I, honestly." Nolan chomps on some popcorn as he glares at me. "But when the one ex I actually have good rapport with calls me to tell me that she's seen you riding high with some girl who sounds suspiciously like our Kyra, then my brother card comes into play."
I open the fridge. No-thing. The sink has a mind-boggling number of dirty dishes piled in it, though. Jesus, how many dishes can one person create in a few hours? Then again, this is Nolan.
"Not a big deal," I mutter.
He rises, still popcorn-chomping away. "Why not tell me, then?"
"Because it isn't."
"Bullshit. You're getting involved again."
"What difference does it make?"
"What difference it makes is that this woman is employed by a company that is hell-bent on burning us to the ground. If they succeed, our company, our livelihoods are toast."
"Cool it," I tell him, "It's not about that with her."
"No?" He quirks an eyebrow. "You've never mentioned Dad when you two have been together?"
"He's come up, but it's not like that. She's not with me to fish for information."
"Maybe not. Still, you're being really fucking stupid. This girl almost messed up things for you one time - you gonna let her do it again?"
I spin around to glare at him. "That was on me, not her, and you know it."
"All I know is that you fucked up everything all those years ago. Just don't want you to go down that road again."
"Drop it, Nolan."
"No. You're being stupid. You know you are."
"Fuck off."
"Fine." He marches for the door, taking the bag of popcorn with him. "But don't say I didn't warn you. That woman is bad fucking news. How much do you even know about her, this time around?"
"Enough. What is that supposed to mean, anyway?"
"Nothing." He opens the door, waves. "Just that you're being a selfish prick. Have a nice day."
"You too," I yell after him, but he's already slammed the door behind him.
I sit there for a long time, glaring at the door.
