It means everything to me that he shared the secrets of his past. It’s not just that he felt safe enough to share it with me, but it’s the context. He’s letting me in—letting me understand him.
“Hope you like coffee black and bitter,” Torren says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, there isn’t any milk or cream.”
I chuckle, looking down at the steaming black coffee in my mug. “If I didn’t like dark and bitter, I never would have chased you.”
“Ha. Ha.” Then he actually laughs, and it does everything for me. His eyes close, and he sighs. “I wish you could stay longer,” he laments.
“Same, but Daddy needs his puppet.”
Torren leans back, looking deep into my eyes. “You’re really going to move out? Start a new life?”
I nod vigorously, more sure than ever of my conviction to leave that life behind me. “Yes. As soon as I get the money, I’m out of there.”
Torren knits his brows, looking at me with a wary expression. He starts to speak, but his voice cuts out. “What is it?” I ask.
His eyes trail down to the floor. He nibbles on his lower lip, then says, “Nothing.”
“I have to go,” I whine. I really don’t want to leave—especially after everything that’s happened betweenus—but I need to keep up appearances with Father until I can get the hell out of there.
Torren crosses the distance and puts his hands on my arms. “You can come here anytime. I—” he stops, clenching his eyes shut, then looks at me and adds, “I want to help. As much as I can.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Torren moves closer, reaching out for my hand. “You promise you’ll call me if you need anything?”
“I promise.”
Are we still friends with benefits?I want to ask, but I’m scared that I’ll push him away.
He walks me to my bike, and I leave. It’s hard to go, but I have to.
At least for now.
Chapter 32
Felix
Tabitha Ellison looks like a meaner Kathy Bates with a constellation of moles on her chin that resembles Orion’s Belt. Her home is grand, but not in an ostentatious way like the monstrosity that is the Mayor’s Mansion. It’s elegant, with just the right amount of panache.
My father has always solved problems by throwing money at them, which is why we are at yet another fundraising event, even though the election is only weeks away.
Tabitha Ellison comes from old money, and she’s a snooty old bitch. Naturally, she loves my father.
I can hear his voice bellowing in the grand ballroom, bemoaning the plight of the workers having to finance the shirkers.
Normally, I just coast through these painful ordeals, but I’ve been tasked with also giving a speech tonight.
I don’t want to give a speech, and I did everything in my power to get out of it. Apparently, Father’s poll numbers reached their height right after our fake hug on the news.
Which means I’m suddenly an asset and neededat all of these terrible functions.
Robert stands at the door, listening to every word that leaves my father’s mouth, waiting for my cue. I plop down on a sofa and sip from a glass of water on a table.
Pinching the bridge of my nose with one hand, I use the other to retrieve the phone from my pocket. I scan the speech, making sure I know it word-for-word. Mayor Hargrove does not tolerate mistakes, so I need this to be perfect.
My father is a man who sticks to his word. You can count on him, trust him. He’s been by my side through thick and thin, and I wouldn’t be where I am today without him.
(turn to Mayor Hargrove)
