Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“Matt?” Why would—”Is that Grinder?”
Phoenix’s gaze is locked on the screen. He nods.
I feel a little sick. He knows where I live. He’s talked to me and Mia. He was flirting with me. “He’s been watching us, hasn’t he?”
The guys look at each other and then at me. Havoc shakes his head. “Honestly, no fucking idea.”
I shake my head. “None of this makes sense. Dodger is dead. Nobody cares about us anymore. Heck, he didn’t even really care when he was alive. He didn’t love me, or Mia. He just hated that when people found out I ran away with her. It made him look weak.”
Sledge glances over at Snark, who’s making an admirable effort looking like he’s deeply focused on security footage and not on our drama. “How about we get outta here. Unless you need more?”
Snark shakes his head. “Nah. I’ve gotta take this to Eagle-eye.”
Outside Snark’s office, Sledge puts his arm around me. I shrink back and he steps away, looking a little hurt. “Are you okay?”
“No, not really. We promised to be honest with each other, right?”
He nods.
“Then honestly?” I look at all three of them, my emotions in a jumble I’m not quite ready to sort out yet. “I need to go take Alessa up on her offer to sleep there tonight. Maybe in the morning we can talk, but if any of you push me right now I will pack our bags and I’m going to take my chances on my own.”
29
SHELBY
I spent the night curled tight around my daughter. She humored me, but it hurt my heart a little that the baby who wanted to be attached to my side for so long kept fidgeting until I gave her some space. Now I’m the one watching Alessa’s two older kids for a change, along with Emily’s oldest, seven year old Liam. It's the least I can do after all the times Alessa has kept an eye on Mia the past couple days.
I sip my coffee and watch Izzy showing them all something gross in the mud. It rained last night. I already know I'm going to be laundering things, so I let them keep having fun. It's not like we're going anywhere. Just as well. I need to think.
Every time I think about the guys I want to scream, especially Phoenix and Havoc. Maybe it’s stupid to include Havoc when it was Phoenix that was there the night Dodger destroyed my life, but I feel betrayed that Havoc didn’t share more with me. Of the three of them, he’s the one that most understands what I went through. Phoenix, for better or worse, didn’t even know me back then.
But I’m still worried about them. Eagle-eye has everyone rotating patrol duty, and no matter what they’ve done, I still don’t want them hurt.
I don’t want them taken from me before I have the chance to find out if I can forgive them or not.
I take a deep breath and hold it a moment, before I let it out. The kids are behaving. No one's drowning in the mud. I have a moment, and I can do this. There’s one last witness I can talk to.
I pull my phone out and tap Mom's contact. It rings twice, and then a familiar voice answers.
“Shel! You haven't called in a while, baby. I was starting to worry.”
“Likely story. Do you even remember me, or are you too busy redecorating Bill’s house?”
“Oh don't be silly. I’ll never be too busy for you and Mia.”
In spite of everything, I grin at how happy she sounds. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m happy for you. You know that. He put up with a lot, waiting for me to move out before snatching you up.”
“That’s how I know he’s worth it.” She laughs, a burbling happy sound that I realize I've missed. She's right, I should call more often. It's just that things have gotten kind of complicated.
“Listen, Mom, I've got some questions for you, and it might be a little uncomfortable. Is it okay? I wanted to ask you about the night Dodger came to the house.”
The other end goes silent, and when she answers, she isn’t nearly as cheery. “Of course, honey.”
Now that I've got her on the line, it's suddenly way harder to get the words out than I imagined. We haven't talked about this in years. At first because she would have panic attacks every time it came up, and then because life was just easier if we didn’t. We had each other. We had Mia. We survived.
“What do you want to know?”
“Could you just… just tell me what you remember, okay?”
There's complete silence on the other end. I don't know what to say, and Mom doesn't either. After a while I'm not even sure I've got her on the line anymore.