Maybe it’s time I talk to Justin.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CIDNEY
Lainey leftfor work this morning, and before she did, I made coffee and breakfast again as a thank-you. I also promised that I would prepare a real dinner tonight, again as a thank-you. She hesitated leaving me alone. This time, though, neither of us called anyone to babysit me. I assured her I would be okay alone.
I may have overestimated my okayness. I’m not sure if I really am okay. When she closes the front door, I watch, listen, and wait for her to turn the key, locking the dead bolt, and only then do I let out a sigh of relief. I also turn on the television for background noise.
Lainey’s place is small and tidy and probably doesn’t need to be cleaned, but I do it anyway. I need to be busy, so I make myself busy. I work hard, deep cleaning every square inch, including baseboards, sheets, and towels. I know it’s probably an overreach, but it’s honestly a selfish move because I’m trying to keep myself busy and distracted from my own thoughts.
Glancing at the clock, I wonder when I should start cooking the chicken that I got out of the freezer earlier. I’m not quite surewhen Lainey is going to be back. I didn’t really notice the time yesterday when she walked through the door.
I am standing at the sink, my fingers tapping against the laminate countertop, when there is a knock on the door. My entire body almost jumps out of my skin at the sound. Then I hear the voice on the other side of the door call out my name.
My feet begin to move, one in front of the other, toward that voice. I should have called him today, but I procrastinated and put it off. I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with the drama, but now it seems as if the drama has come to me.
I walk to the door and check the peephole, because although I did hear his voice, I’m not a fucking idiot. It’s him. I unlock the door and step back slightly after turning the knob and gently tug it open.
Tilting my head back, I look into my cousin’s eyes. The eyes of the man who essentially raised me. Most would think it would have been my aunt and uncle, but it was always Justin for me. He was my safe place, my guard, and the father figure I wanted in life. He took me on, took care of me, and always protected me.
Until he didn’t, or couldn’t, or whatever it was.
Stepping to the side, I let him walk past me into Lainey’s place. He looks around, and I wait for him to say something snarky, but he doesn’t. I don’t know why I expect him to look like a monster, but he doesn’t.
He looks exactly like Justin Whitaker always has—clean cut and put together—but I know there are tattoos, and there is a roughness to him that no one would suspect if they were meeting him for the first time.
“I wanted to give you a few days to settle in before I came over here and pissed you off,” he murmurs.
I laugh softly because he’s not wrong. He jerks his chin toward the chair that Lainey always sits in, walks over, and sinksdown onto the cushion. He crosses his ankle over his knee and leans back, waiting for me to sit down on the sofa, which I do.
“There’s a lot of shit going on at the club right now. But I need to know that you’re okay.”
“I’m not,” I state. I watch as he winces. “But I will be. I just have to heal,” I whisper. “Nobody can do that for me.”
“You won’t stay with me?” he asks.
Shaking my head slowly, I close my eyes in a slow blink, then reopen them and focus my gaze on his. “Will you let me choose the man I want to be with?” I ask.
His eyes widen before they narrow, and I watch his lips press together in a firm line. He did not want me to bring that up and likely thought I wouldn’t. I don’t know if I want to be with Goose or if he even wants to be with me anymore, but I want to be able to choose the person I want to spend time with. Without the only father figure in my life hating him.
“Maybe we don’t worry about boyfriends for now?” he asks.
“That doesn’t work for me.”
He lets out a heavy exhale, likely annoyed as hell with me. I’m not asking him to sleep with the person I want to choose. I just want the option to choose without causing someone to get beaten up—or die.
“You want Goose, then?” he asks.
“I don’t know, and if I did, this isn’t the time to talk about it. I just want to know that I can choose who I want and live a peaceful life with you by my side.”
“You sure you don’t want to go to law school?”
I snort. I barely graduated from high school. I’m nowhere near smart enough or disciplined enough for that. He clears his throat, then places his foot on the floor before he stands, straightening his knees.
I watch as he walks over to the window and looks outside. His chin dips slightly, and I know he’s looking out at Goose, who is likely posted across the street and looking directly at him.
The stare-down lasts for a moment. Then Justin spins around on his heels, his eyes finding mine. He dips his chin ever so slightly before he speaks.
