Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
But he’d given her the day off so he could take care of personal business. Meeting with Billy’s sister was something Dash had to do alone. Until he put his one-to-one talk with Heather behind him, he couldn’t move forward the way he wanted to.
He’d called the rehab center and asked to speak to Heather, and when she picked up, he’d asked if he could stop by later today, on one of her breaks. And though she hadn’t wanted to see him, he’d somehow convinced her to let him come.
He jumped into the shower, dried off, dressed, grabbed his keys, and headed out. Heart pounding in his chest, he pulled up to the center. The parking lot was fairly empty, which helped his nerves. No repeat of the other day. Then again, nobody who would snitch knew where he was.
He cut the engine of his Ferrari and headed inside. He asked the woman manning the front desk to call for Heather, and he waited for her to join him.
She strode down the hall with a frown on her face, the same expression she displayed every time they were in close proximity to one another.
She stepped up to him, eyebrows raised, as if to say, Now what?
He sighed and glanced outside. “It’s a nice day. How about we take a walk.” At least then they’d have privacy.
“Whatever gets this over with faster,” she muttered, storming past him and heading out the door before he could step forward and hold it open for her.
“Great,” he muttered, following her out and catching up with her halfway down the sidewalk. “Heather, please stop.”
She turned to face him, arms folded across her chest. “Why do we have to do this?”
He groaned and ran his hand through his hair. “Because we both need to have our say in private.” He gestured toward her with one hand. “Go ahead. Tell me off. Yell about how much you hate me, how I should be dead and your brother should be here. How it’s all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault, it’s mine! I should have been home that night,” she said, tears in her eyes.
He blinked, stunned by the admission and immediately knowing how wrong she was. “We were seventeen. Old enough to be home alone.”
Heather was two years older, and the few times she’d come into the garage to listen to them play, he recalled her complaining about how cold it was before leaving them alone.
“Even if you had been there, you wouldn’t have been in the garage with us. Heather, it wasn’t your fault.” Though he wanted to reach out and touch her, to comfort her in some small way, he knew it wouldn’t be welcome.
“You bought the drugs, right?” Her glassy eyes met his.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and forced himself to meet her gaze. To own what he’d done. “I did.”
And though he wanted to make excuses, to explain it was the first time they’d tried coke, that he had no way of knowing the stuff had been laced, he clenched his jaw and said nothing more.
“I remember your father coming over the morning after. He and my parents talked in the kitchen.” She rubbed at her already red nose. “I heard your father say that Billy bought the coke but I knew … Billy didn’t have the money for cocaine. And he once told me he was afraid to go to that part of town.”
All Dash could do was stand and wait for her to continue and listen.
“My parents believed your father because he had money. They were in awe of him. And when he offered them a check, you have no idea how much it eased their financial burden.”
So she had known about the money. Made sense, given she was the older sibling.
She swallowed hard. “They believed your father because it made their lives easier, but the story never rang true to me.”
Dash let out a snort. “That’s because you were right. You have good instincts.” He dipped his head. “I am so damned sorry, Heather. It won’t bring Billy back any more than the money did, but I needed you to know. And that’s why I did the interview yesterday. To take the responsibility now because I couldn’t when I was seventeen.”
“Because you were in awe of your dad, too?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Because nobody said no to Kenneth Kingston. Especially his kids.” Dash groaned. “Look, I can’t fix what I did but I need you to know that I’m sorry. And I hope…” He shook his head. “Never mind. Just be well.”
He turned and started for the parking lot, to the safety of his car. And when he climbed inside and started the engine, he gripped the wheel and exhaled a long breath. She hadn’t forgiven him, but that hadn’t been why he’d come. He’d needed to own his mistakes and apologize. What Heather did with that information, whether it brought her any peace, he’d never know. But he hoped with everything in him she could let go of her anger and live a happy life.