Weston nods, eyes becoming unfocused—deep in thought—as August finishes my pussy willow, covering it in Saniderm before starting on Allie’s. Wes and I sit together on the couchas Allie prattles on about a book we are both reading. Weston has an arm wrapped around me, drawing circles over my shoulders, but that thoughtful haze doesn’t leave him through the remainder of Allie’s tattoo.
When she’s finished, she pops up, smiling down at her forearm—her piece a perfect twin to my own. “They look amazing.” She looks up at me. “Don’t you feel so much better now?”
“Better?” Wes asks. “What happened?”
“Oops.” Allie winces, stepping back before hitching a thumb behind her. “I guess I’ll wait for you outside...”
“Actually, I have lunch for Elena, but I need to relieve one of my workers, so I won’t be able to bring it next door. Can you drop it by for me?” August asks, eyeing Weston and me curiously.
“I can do that!” Allie says too excitedly, striding toward his office behind the front desk.
I give him a side hug, thanking my uncle for the tattoo before he disappears with Allie down the back hallway. I turn back to Weston, who is watching me, eyes shadowed with unsettled apprehension.
“I got a call from some weird number today. I didn’t answer it, so they sent a text. It was from Parker.” I swallow the brick in my throat. “He asked to talk to me.”
“Are you okay?” Wes asks, the words rushed. “What did you do?”
“I blocked the number, and I am okay.” I gently grasp his forearms. “You were still at the camp, and Allie was right next door, so I went to her. We walked around the pier until I calmed down and then came to get tattoos. I planned on telling you tonight... I wasn’t keeping?—”
“I know, love. I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you.” He sighs, stepping back from me, running a hand through his hair. “Can we talk outside for a minute?”
Trepidation trickles down my spine at this tone, uneasy with the newfound concern etched into his face as he bites his lip, and his eyes dart around the tattoo studio as if he’s searching for something.
I nod, silent as he places a hand at the small of my back and guides me out the front doors. There is a bench across the sidewalk, beneath the palms and overlooking the Pacific. Weston leads us to it, taking a seat and gently pulling me down beside him.
“Your dad didn’t want me to tell you this.” His knee shakes as his gaze drifts out to the horizon—he’s nervous. That trepidation in my spine morphs to pure fear, swirling in the depths of me. “But I think after today... you need to know what’s been going on.”
“Wes... what’s going on?” I grasp his wrist, squeezing, the gesture pulling his gaze back to my face.
“Parker’s been trying to contact you for weeks. He... He called more than just the flower shop that one time. He called your ex, Camden, who filed a restraining order. Your dad threatened him, and...” He turns, facing me head-on as he takes my hands in his. “He called me too. He never said his name, and he called from a blocked number, but he asked if I was dating you. Your dad was there, he took my phone from me, and the minute he addressed Parker by name, the line went dead. He’s been trying to protect you from all this, but if Parker is contacting you directly now, you need to know.”
I pull my hands from Weston’s, turning away, directing my gaze toward the ocean as the information filters through me. I wonder if I’m supposed to scream, or cry, or be afraid. PerhapsI am, and may later on, when I’m alone, I’ll rage and sob, but in this moment, I’m numb.
I’m shocked to my core, and somehow completely numb.
“I’m sorry, Wills. You should’ve known this entire time. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”
Weston doesn’t touch me, but sits silently beside me, giving me time and space to process. I’m sure I have reason to be upset with him and with my father for keeping this from me. I’m disappointed that they didn’t believe I had the strength to handle this, to be left in the loop when it came to my own safety.
I’m not angry with them for it, though. I can understand their reasons.
More than anything, I’m upset that it’s happening at all. That Parker has not only put me through this, but that it seems as if every person in my life is getting dragged down with me. That in my effort to ignore him until he goes away, he’s turned to harassing my loved ones in my place.
I’m fucking over it.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket, navigating to the text message he sent me earlier, and unblocking the number. I place my finger over the call button before my nerves can catch up with me and convince me to change my mind.
“What’re you doing?” Weston asks.
“Calling Parker.”
“Whoa, Willow,” Wes gasps, gently placing his hand on my arm. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
I hush him as Parker’s phone goes to voicemail. A blanket of relief settles over me at the realization that I won’t actually have to hear his voice or address him directly. I take a deep breath as the answering tone chimes, hoping what I say next will be enough to make him leave me alone for good.
“Stop calling my family. Stop calling my boyfriend. Stop callingme,” I hiss into my phone. “You know exactly whatyou did, and nothing you say is going to make me regret my decisions, nor will it replace your actions. There is no conversation to be had between us.” Emotion thickens my voice, but I refuse to let it crack for him. “You cannot manipulate me anymore, you can’t make me hate myself, and I will not placate the deep-seated shame you refuse to acknowledge and relentlessly attempt to cover up by victimizing yourself.” I pause, closing my eyes and allowing every ounce of pent up pain to wash through me, letting it cascade from my body and crash to the ground at my feet. When I walk away from this bench, I’ll be leaving Parker behind too. I refuse to carry him with me anymore. “Be grateful I haven’t reported you to the Board at Berkeley. If you contact me, my parents, or Weston one more time, I will do exactly that. Forget I exist, Parker, because I’ve already forgotten you.”
I exhale, expelling all the oxygen in my lungs as I re-block the number and pocket my phone before turning to Weston. His eyes are a deep blue flame, blazing through me. It’s his gaze that has reality pummeling into me, and suddenly, I’m falling against his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist.
