Where was Grayson? Did he go home? What must he be thinking?
I needed to get to him before…before what? I didn’t even know.
One day.
“He’ll be suspended and unable to work, followed by felony charges and jail time.”
“No!” I shouted at her. “He did nothing wrong. You can’t do this to him!”
“Addy, I haven’t done anything. He did.”
I glowered at her, angry that she would dare threaten this man. This remarkably good man. Was I angry with her or myself? Who had really done this to him?
Me.
I felt sick as everything I’d done leading up to this moment flashed through my mind, and all I could see was him saying no and me—not listening.
“Addison, I have to call your parents,” Miss Shrieve repeated, almost as if she were sorry. Not sorry enough, though, because she still reached for the phone.
“I thought you liked him.”
My voice was barely a whisper in the room, but it made her pause for a moment and then she placed the phone back down. “I do…did like him, Addy. Before I knew—”
“Before you knew what? You don’t know anything. He helped me…” My voice faded, and I wiped away a tear. “Is that so bad?”
“No, Addison. Helping you isn’t the problem, and I think you know that. He should never have been kissing you the way he was or touching you.” She stopped for a minute and then asked bluntly, “Was there more to it? Were you two intimate?”
I knew this was the moment she expected me to open up and trust her, but she was in for a big disappointment. Instead, I stared at the woman who was trying to ruin the man I loved—and shut all the way down.
“Addison?”
With my face an inscrutable mask, I remained silent.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Addison. He…”
As she kept talking, I made the decision to flip the switch. To forget everything that Grayson and I had done.
I concentrated on the—tick, tick, tock—and let the madness come and devour me once again.
* * *
Fuck! I slammed my palm against the steering wheel as I sped home.
The entire way I kept checking over my shoulder, expecting cop cars to pull in behind me with flashing lights.
Guilty.
Yes, I was fucking guilty. Guilty of loving the wrong person at the wrong time.
Pulling into my drive, I jumped out of my truck and made my way into the house. Everywhere I looked I was reminded of what I’d done with Addison here.
Jesus, I’d deluded myself. How’d it come to this?
How did I convince myself that somehow we wouldn’t get caught, that I wasn’t throwing my life away? But tomorrow...tomorrow I’d be fired. Worse, I’d be charged like some kind of fucking sexual predator. All because of a quick…
No.
This wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t even about a kiss.
I needed to get fucking real. I’d done it and would do everything all over again just for a moment with her. For her smile, her laughter, and the way she looked at me with absolute trust in her eyes.
Addison had been hungry for guidance, acceptance, and love—and I’d reveled in having the power to give it all to her.
I marched to the kitchen, grabbed the scotch and a glass and saw my father’s pen sitting on the counter.
Picking it up, I studied the engraving and remembered getting it made for him. I ran my finger over the letters and felt as though they were mocking me.
Son, if you want her heart—go and take it.
Somehow, I didn’t think he’d be too happy I took his advice. I poured more than I should have of the scotch and raised it.
“Cheers, old man.”
I raised the glass to him and then slammed it back before closing my eyes.
I pictured Addison with tears on her cheeks and fear in her eyes as she’d walked away with Helene earlier—scared. Then I remembered the day in the field with the sun shining over her when I’d stupidly promised to keep her safe.
Who am I kidding? I can’t even keep myself safe.
Lifting the bottle, I poured another glass and swirled the contents around.
What the fuck was I going to do now? Tomorrow by three, everyone would know what I’d done and that would be it.
Over. Finished.
I’d never see her again. Never touch her. And I would never know what would become of her.
I downed the contents of my glass. The prospect of never knowing was a worse punishment than the public or any judge could give me.
I dropped my head into my hands, remembering Addison’s words, I’m your monster. She was so very wrong. I was honest enough to admit I was fighting myself.
I’d become my own monster.
* * *
Present…
“You have a big day tomorrow,” Doc says with a smile.
We’re back in the library, where I spend all my days now, studying for the test that is almost here.
“Yep. It’s such a long test.”
“How long, again?”
“Seven or so hours,” I tell him, turning the page in my textbook.
“That is long. Are you taking it here?” he asks and I raise a brow.
“No, I was going to break out and do it at the public library.”
Doc’s smile is warm and slightly…smug.
“Okay, Miss Smarty Pants. I meant are you going to take it here in the library?”
Grinning at him, I nod. “Yep. At 9 a.m.”
“Do you have everything you need?” he asks as he clasps his hands on top of the table. I look at the face I now consider to be friendly.
“Yeah, I think so,” I tell him before going back to the book in front of me.
“Addy?”
“Hmm?” I respond, figuring Doc will just keep talking as usual. When he doesn’t, I stop reading the paragraph I’m on and glance up. “Yes?”
“Make sure you have pencils tomorrow. You can’t use a pen.”
I look at the pen sitting beside the textbook on the table and reach out to touch the shiny gold trim. I’ll just take it with me then.
It’s my good luck and my hope, and I’m hanging on to it.
Just as that thought enters my mind, Doc’s voice filters through. “You should always have one or two, just in case. Here,” he says, sliding three pencils over to me.
I reach forward to take them, and he places a warm, calming hand over mine.
“Addy?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m proud of you.”
I can’t help but smile as he gives me a gentle squeeze before lifting his hand.
“I just wanted you to know that.”
Gripping the pencils, I hold them to me as if they are worth as much as the Mont Blanc. Now I have two good luck charms.
Doc has always been on my side, even when I was fighting him every step of the way. My parents may have lost their direction and turned into pitiful examples of what a role model should be, but they did one thing right.
They gave me Doc.
* * *
Past…
I sat with Miss Shrieve as she dialed my mom’s number and pressed the phone to her ear, and before I even thought about it, I was up and reaching for the door.
I could hear her shouting my name as I sprinted down the hall toward the exit. I didn’t stop as I pulled my bag around and yanked out my keys.
I had no idea what I was doing as I jumped inside the car and started the engine. As I left the parking lot, I saw my coach come to a stop at the gate in my rearview mirror.
My blood was pumping with adrenaline as I weaved through the traffic in front of me.
I couldn’t let this happen. Not to him.
I had to tell him how sorry I was and tell him to go, to run. He needed to leave—now.
Making it to his house in record time, I got out of the car and ran to the front door, my breath coming fast as I pounded on it and waited.
r /> I knew we didn’t have much time.
Miss Shrieve would’ve already called my parents by now—and possibly the principal at this point.
I rapped my knuckles on his door again, and heard the locks click and the handle turn. Standing back, I waited as he pulled the door open, and when he came into view, I couldn’t help but launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until his arms embraced me, and I exhaled in relief.
I touched his face, running the back of my hand down his jaw. “We need to leave.”
“What?” he asked, pulling away. “No, Addison. I can’t leave.”
“Yes, we both can. We can drive away. I can dye my hair. You could shave yours. Then we can ditch the truck somewhere and—”
“Addison. Addison,” he cut in, smoothing a hand down over my hair. “I can’t do that. Then what? We live on the run? No, I’ve done enough. I can’t do that to you.”
Loosening his hold, he stepped back and asked in a gentle, but firm tone, “What are you doing here? You heard Helene. You’re supposed to stay away from me and tomorrow I’m going to—”
“What? Turn yourself in? Go to jail? Do you know how ridiculous that is? I wanted this!”
Running his hands through his hair, Grayson spun away from me and cursed. “Fuck, Addison! It doesn’t matter! No one will care. It’s over! This…this is over!”
I bit down on my lip to keep back the cry that was threatening to break free. His words were harsh and cut deeper than any knife ever could.
“Turn around,” I implored.
“No.”
My eyes roamed over his powerful body and rested on his shoulders, as broad as ever. But this time, instead of offering strength and safety, they looked formidable, as if he was blocking me out. And he was.
“You should go.”
I grabbed his arm and jerked him around to face me. “Look at me!”
His eyes were glassy as he did what I asked, and seeing the emotion in them triggered my own tears to flow freely down my face.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, not knowing what else to say. “I’m so sorry.”
I did this. I destroyed this man.
His fingers trailed over my cheek and down under my chin. Tipping my face up to his, he pressed his mouth to mine and whispered, “I’m not.”
* * *
Sweet, she was so damn sweet as I touched my lips to hers, savoring the taste.
I cupped her cheeks and then slid my hands back into her soft hair as I deepened the kiss. She placed a palm on my chest, feeling the beat of my heart, and then she dug her fingers in.
I lifted my head, and she spoke the words I’d heard for the first time several weeks ago. “Meet me?”
Searching her eyes, I shook my head and she brought a finger to my lips.
“Please don’t let this be it. It can’t be. Meet me at Daniel’s. I’ll wait, Grayson—I’ll wait for you.”
I knew there was no way I could deny her—I nodded.
Somehow, some way, I would get to her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Past…
That afternoon proved to be a lesson in torture.
After returning home, my parents sat me down and pretended to care, and they did that by asking a lot of uncomfortable and demeaning questions. They’d also done the one thing I wished they hadn’t—they had called Doc to be a part of their charade.
“Addison…” my mother began as she sat back on the couch. She smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles from her cream skirt and folded her hands in her lap. “Addison, we are trying to understand what happened with this…this teacher, Mr. McKendrick.”
Just hearing her say his name in a way that said she was repulsed made me want to spit nasty, ugly words at her. Instead, I lowered my eyes and refused to answer.
If they wanted answers, they’d get nothing from me.
As far as they were concerned, Mr. McKendrick existed only as my teacher.
“Addison—” my father started.
“Don’t,” I snapped. I had no problem cutting him off. How dare my loving father question me and my motives or Grayson’s for that matter?
Realizing that they were getting nowhere, Doc scooted to the edge of the couch and in a gentle voice said, “Addy?”
My eyes flicked to his and, again, I said nothing.
“It’s okay, Addy. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
I wish that were true, but the fact was, I’d done everything wrong.
Why couldn’t anyone see that?
Blame belonged to no one except me. This was entirely my fault.
* * *
Present…
Tomorrow is the day of my exam.
Sitting on my bed, I look around the small room that’s become my home these past thirty days and wonder how I will feel when I step outside the front doors.
No one has come to visit me while I’ve been here at Pine Groves—no one except Doc.
My mother signed me over and then left me here to heal, or more likely, to disappear. Either way, she’d made it more than clear she didn’t want to see me until I would no longer be an embarrassment to the family.
That won’t be a problem because I have no desire to ever see her again. I wonder how she feels in that big house all on her own since my father was booked and sent away for his abuse.
All of this stemmed from decisions she failed to make, like protecting her daughter from a father with a drinking problem and a strong arm.
I look at the photo on the wall and notice the edges beginning to curl. Every day it’s becoming a little more worn and broken, even as I’m getting stronger.
Soon, I’ll be strong enough to face whatever comes my way because in two days I will be free to start over.
* * *
Past…
I pulled the truck into the parking lot of the cemetery and looked at the time. In ten minutes it would be midnight.
Turning off the headlights, I took the keys from the ignition and bent down to rest my forehead on the steering wheel. I clutched it so tight I thought it would break, but all it did was provide something for me to hang onto as I started to fall apart.
The thought of them questioning me tomorrow over the nature of my relationship with Addison made me feel sick to my stomach. Yet, I knew it wasn’t the relationship but the lie I would tell them to cover it up that made me feel that way.
The disappointment I felt was only superseded by the fact that I believed my actions were justified.
Was this what love was supposed to be like? An emotion that made you want to willingly give up everything for another—and how much was I willing to give?
I was in all kinds of trouble. My career was over, my reputation would be ruined, and my life…my life was still to be decided.
I squeezed my eyes shut and smashed my hand onto the wheel. My shoulders shook as the enormity of the mess I was in finally hit me.
Where did you go, and who did you turn to, when you had no one?
“Dad,” I whispered out into the darkness. “I could really use your help right about now. What do I do?”
I looked down to the center console, spotting his pen. I picked it up, tracing my finger over his initials, and thought of how disappointed he’d be.
I uncapped the pen and opened the glove compartment to find what I needed.
Nothing could be changed, not now. It was done.
I wanted Addison, and she wanted me.
But sometimes, you just don’t get what you want.
* * *
My mother continued trying to justify why I did what I did. I must have been seduced, coerced, talked into falling for this older man—this sexual predator.
As I sat there, I remained silent, knowing that anything I said would only make the situation worse. Doc was watching me carefully, almost as if he was trying to read my thoughts.
All the while, my father sat pouring glass after glass of bourbon, looking more drunk as
the night went on.
“You are grounded indefinitely, except to visit with Dr. Wolinski,” my mother told me as she stood to shake Doc’s hand.
I was close to begging Doc to stay, when I heard him suggest to my father, “I don’t think that will help the situation tonight, do you?”
“I don’t feel like you help the situation at all,” my father slurred, standing to make his way upstairs, no doubt to pass out. I knew he’d checked out the day he’d picked up a bottle of alcohol and began drinking it like water.
My father was gone. There was no doubt about it.
* * *
Several hours later, I sat in my room watching the clock as I waited for my parents to go to sleep.
Dressed in jeans and a black sweater, I pulled my hair back and secured it in a ponytail and then snuck out my bedroom.
Walking to the front door, I opened it and made my way to the side alley. I followed my usual route until I reached the main road opposite the cemetery.
I sprinted across the empty road and through the old gates before following the drive to the parking lot. The empty parking lot.
He wasn’t there.
I searched the shadows frantically, trying to see if I was missing him standing anywhere. Maybe he walked? But he lived too far from here, so why would he?
I sat down on the edge of the curb, brought my legs up to my chest, and waited.
I nervously rubbed my sweaty hands over my jeans and placed my chin on my knees.
He’d be here.
If I waited, he would come. He said he would.
I would sit here on my own and wait.
I could do that.
For as long as it took.
* * *
Present…
Today is the day.
I stand outside of the small library and take several calming breaths.
I can do this. I just have to walk inside, sit down, and take the test.
Sliding my hand inside my pocket, I take comfort in feeling the pen in there. My good luck charm.