“You’ve never sought me out either,” she whispers.
Yes, I did. And I found you beneath the arm of another man.
“I’m not the one who left.”
Her eyes flash with something like regret, but I don’t have it in me to believe her.
I step away from the door, deciding I won’t get the answers that I need. I flick the lock, pulling my key out and slipping it into my pocket.
Elena grasps the handle, murmuring, “I was desperate. You seemed like the best option to get out of the situation. That was all.”
Well, that’s a searing knife through the center of my fucking soul.
“Figures.” I laugh roughly, backing away from her. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you, right? An option. A safety net. A reliable doormat to wipe your fucking feet on.” I turn, walking back toward my truck, mind racing and heart pounding, but I only make it to the end of the driveway before I spin back to her, raking my hands through my hair. “You don’t get to do this to me anymore, Elena!”
I’m shouting now, but fuck it.
“It destroyed me, you know?” My voice cracks. She doesn’t even look at me. She’s still facing the door, head down, but she makes no move to step inside. “Losing him broke me. But you? You fucking destroyed me.” I take a step toward her, my body begging to close the gap between us and take back everything I’ve already said, and all that I’m about to. “And I don’t want any part of whatever you’ve?—”
The front door swings open, and Elena stumbles back, gasping. Everett’s hulking figure fills the frame. He’s wearingnothing but a pair of black sweats, his hair sleep-mussed as he runs a hand through it.
“What the fuck is going on?” he hisses.
He takes one look at his sister, and I know she can see the disappointment morph his features just as clearly as I can. His eyes then lift to mine, and it’s anger I see there. I wonder how much he heard, knowing he wouldn’t be able to understand it.
“She got drunk at the boardwalk and wandered into my shop. I gave her a ride home.”
I don’t give either of them a chance to say anything else as I walk to my truck. I don’t look back at the house as I start it up and drive away.
The smellof fresh bread and a hint of sweetness assault my senses as I push open the front door to Dahlia and Everett’s townhouse the next morning.
It’s honestly the last place I want to be, but the text I woke to from Everett that read:My house. Nowleft little room for argument.
Their kitchen is directly off the entryway, so I walk right into it, finding Everett, Leo, Dahlia, and Everett’s friend Ryan standing around the island as Dahlia slides a tray of steaming croissants across the counter.
Slipping off her oven mitt, she says, “I’m taking Lou to your mom’s this morning, and then we’re meeting Darby at Honeysuckle and getting brunch after.”
She lifts to her toes, kissing Everett’s cheek before stepping away. He doesn’t let her get far before he grabs her wrist and tugs her back into him, smashing his mouth against hers. Shesmiles, planting a hand on his chest and letting out a small whimper as she pulls away.
“Love you, Wildflower.” He gives her a dopey smile, the stern expression he flashed me when I walked in immediately wiped away.
“Love you,” Dahlia drawls. She calls for her daughter from the bottom of the staircase, and the strawberry-blond eleven-year-old appears a moment later.
Everett sees the girls off, cheerful and lovesick, before slamming the front door shut and turning to me, fury on his face. Pointing to Ryan in the corner of the kitchen, he growls, “Tell him everything.”
Ryan is the County Sheriff, and one of Everett’s best friends. Normally, I don’t think this kind of complaint would go through the sheriff's office, but knowing Elena, she’d be unwilling and uncooperative when it comes to the authorities. Which tells me we may be speaking off the record right now.
“Where is she?” I ask.
“Still asleep,” Leo says.
I’ve got to get the fuck out of here before she comes downstairs. When I lift my head, my gaze clashes with Everett’s across the kitchen, and he nods as if I spoke those words aloud.
I give them the spiel about Elena showing up last night with Elliot. Ryan asked for a physical description and what he was wearing. They asked me to recount my conversation with Elliot and what Elena had told me about him touching her, being aggressive, and her fear of him following her home had she tried to leave.
I reach the point where we made it back to Everett’s house when Ryan asks, “And how much did she say she had to drink?”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Leo snaps.
