Hurting her was the last thing I wanted to do, but somehow, it seemed inevitable.
She burrowed her head against the crook of my neck. “I don’t think there’s been a single night since he died that I don’t dream about him,” she said, sadness thick in her voice.
“Me, too.”
Her arm tightened around my stomach but other than that she remained still. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”
I nodded, but her words fell on deaf ears. Guilt plagued me, wrapping its unrelenting claws around my heart, squeezing tight. I tried for months to get him off that shit but Bodie was hardheaded and battling things no one could understand.
“It still hurts to know he chose the drugs over me,” she said, and I hated that she felt that way.
“Drugs make people do some fucked-up shit, Cass. I can’t tell you how many cases I’ve worked where people, who were once functioning members of society, had good jobs, and took care of their kids, found themselves lost to addiction. A slave to their next hit. It doesn’t give a fuck who you are, where you live, how much money you make, or how beautiful you are, it will eat away at your soul until you’re nothing more than a shell of your former self. Bodie may have been too weak to say no, but he loved you very much. Never doubt that.”
“I know he loved me, but it still hurts. I lost her, too. Our mother was my whole world. I wanted to find ways to escape, to not feel the pain, but I pushed through. I coped. The pain reminded me that it was real, that she was here and alive and she loved us. Then when I lost him too, it was as if my whole world was shattered.”
“I’m sorry, Cassidy. I should have been there for you more. I should have…done a lot of things differently.”
Her eyes lifted to mine, searching. “You had to do what was best for you.”
My hand cradled her face; the urge to kiss her almost unbearable. “I should have done what was best foryou.”
She leaned into my touch, pressing her lips to the base of my palm, and I knew right then that any decision I ever made from that point forward would be what was best for her.
His warmth surrounded me like a blanket, offering comfort and safety from the outside world. A world where reality lurked and danger threatened to steal this moment. Blinking, I pried my eyes open, squinting against the sunlight peeking through the blinds.
Reid had one arm banded around my back, his large hand snug against my waist. I smiled contentedly, noting my cheek rested on his hard chest, the steady beat of his heart thumping against my ear.
He stirred, groaning when I dragged my bare leg up and down his.
Bringing his hand to my upper thigh, his strong fingers dug into my skin, holding it in place. “Don’t move.”
I giggled, lifting my head. “Morning.”
Damn, he looked even better in the morning…all sleepy-eyed, his long hair fanning the pillow. Releasing my leg, he raised his hand to push his wild hair back from his eyes before pulling it down his scruffy face.
“What time is it?” he grumbled, glancing over at the alarm clock. “Shit, we need to get going.” He tugged his arm from beneath me. It was gentle but the loss of his closeness had my heart wrenching tight in my chest. He sat up on the edge of the bed, twisting his neck from side to side before rolling his shoulders back.
“Where are we going?” I asked, sitting up and scooting closer, wanting to reach out and press my lips to the smooth skin of his back.
“Texas,” he answered, pushing from the bed before I had the chance to give into the temptation.
“What for?”
“Too early for questions.” Were his final words before the bathroom door clicked shut. I didn’t expect him to be all warm and fuzzy after spending the night together, but I did expect something more than the cold shoulder.
***
We’d only been on the road for half an hour but you could cut the tension with a knife. To think when I woke up this morning, I was completely high on this man, but right now I wanted to choke the shit out of him.
I learned pretty quickly that Reid Cunningham was not a morning person. He needed at least two cups of coffee before he should be allowed to interact with humans.
Plus, I was pretty sure he was still pissed about what I was wearing. He’d asked me twice to change before we left the hotel, but I’d refused and that didn’t help his extreme level of grouchiness whatsoever. But I could care less how he felt about my attire. If the only words he was going to utter to me were demands then he could go straight to hell.
I didn’t see what the big deal was. It was just a romper. When I left Florida for California, I’d packed light—sundresses and rompers. Cute and comfy. That was my style. I’d brought along a denim jacket to ward off any chill but it wasn’t necessary. Just being in the same car with him made me hot.
And not in a good way.
I wasn’t sure which part he hated the most. The ruffled eyelet hem that grazed my upper thighs or the top half, which was low-cut with spaghetti straps. My breasts were small enough I didn’t have to wear a bra. The anger in his eyes only intensified when his eyes drifted to either. Sure, it showed a lot of skin, but I wanted him to look.
