“What?” Both Macey and I question.
“On our wrists. Friendship tattoos.”
That’s exactly what we end up doing.
Written across each right wrist of ours, we get the words inked into our skin.
Macey withNo Matter When.
Sam withNo Matter What.
And mine withNo Matter Where.
Because that’s how it is. No matter all those things, they will always be my sisters.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
SUNNY
I walkinto the warmth of Tyler’s home and shut the door behind me. Leaning back on it, I huff out a slow breath trying to steady my nerves.
My whole body is shaking as the nervousness coils around my ribs, making each labored breath difficult.
The idea of staying and maybe, just maybe building a life here has been slowly plaguing my mind. But as the days on my calendar get less and less, the thoughts consume me. Along with the unsettling feelings that come with either option.
Ever since the phone call, my entire being has been split in two moods; the need to run and the need to stay. I cling to both desperately, unsure of which to let go of.
Nothing about my leaving feels right. I chalk it up to nerves. And I have to admit that, while I’m so fucking nervous, a small sense of relief blooms in my chest at the possibility of staying. Of talking with their lawyers, having Tyler promise to do this the right, legal way. Living a life that no longer has limits, rules, or a plan.
If we can do that, then maybe I can stay. Build a life in thisplace that has somehow become home. It creates options that never would’ve existed otherwise.
Before, I didn’t think I had a choice. Maybe because I didn’t believe I deserved to have one. But now, I know I do. I have a choice. And I choose to stay.
“Tyler?” I call shakily as I remove myself from the door. I place the keys and my phone down on the kitchen island.
“I’ll be down in a minute, little fire.” I hear him call, the shower shutting off.
I shift on my feet, glancing around the townhome that has somehow become my home, too.
Watching the fire in his black marble fireplace, my gaze is pulled to his office, noticing the door is ajar. I sit for a beat, then immediately walk over to the beckoning door. Like something in there is summoning me to it.
I peek my head inside the dark room. Four massive computer screens light up a mess of paperwork on his desk.
I chuckle because Tyler is the farthest thing from messy. Seeing those scattered papers is foreign.
A wall is lined with books like a library while the other is decorated in fancy weapons, each having their own light to display them.
A keypad sits on that wall to open what I’d assume to be a safe filled with other weapons. Disguised as a painting to lead to the safe, which makes sense why it’s locked when he’s gone.
The wall behind his desk is all ceiling to floor windows giving off a view of the city. It’s warm and looks like your typical office, but something echoes eerie and deadly, too.
The computer screen saver switches pictures. First a picture of Sam and Tyler as kids on the beach in Cape Cod. The next a selfie of me and Tyler. I smile at it. It’s sweet he has me as a part of his screen saver.
It clicks to a picture of all of us at Martha’s, sitting in ourusual booth. One Tyler took of all of us. And I smile at that too, because maybe, just maybe we can all have more nights like that.
The idea of staying sounds more freeing than running.
But then the screen shines down on the paperwork on his desk, bringing light to a familiar name across one of the papers.My name. Then I notice my name onallthe papers.
