Page 27 of Chasing Clouds

There’s a pause. “Are you in some kind of trouble?” She doesn’t sound put off, more like she’s gone into mama bear mode.

“Not anymore. At least I don’t think so,” I answer honestly.

“Well, did Reid tell you we know people? You just say the word.”

A laugh escapes me, and Reid smiles. She doesn’t even know me, but she’s already got my back. Apparently, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

“All right, Mom, we’re going to go. We can talk about this more later, but if you’re asked, we’d appreciate if you played along that this is real.”

“Son, if papers were signed, it’s real.”

My chest tightens and I glance at Reid, but he keeps his eyes on the road, his face expressionless.

“Camille, if you ever need anything, you can call me any time.”

“Thank you, Ms. Jackson. I really appreciate that.” More than she’ll ever know.

“You two stay safe.” And then she hangs up.

“Sorry, she can be a little intense.”

“I think she’s great. My mother would never call me—these types of conversations are left for my father.”

“Speaking of intense . . .” He slides his eyes briefly over to mine, eyebrows raised.

My father was in rare form last night. He never loses his composure when there are people around, and he shocked us all.

“You have no idea. That was just a tiny glimpse of my life, and that was tame.”

His lips press into a thin line; he doesn’t like that.

My phone pings with an incoming text. Pulling it out of my bag, I see there are twenty-two messages from Patrick, and I frown.

“What does it say?” he asks me, glancing over at my phone.

“That he and my father want to speak to me at noon, privately.” I flip the phone over so it’s face down and hold it against my leg. I’m hiding it from myself even though I’ve already seen it. I wish I could un-see it.

A weighted silence falls over us, and Reid’s hand tightens on top of the steering wheel.

“Do you want to talk to them?” he asks without facing me.

“No.” To further prove my point, I power off my phone and toss it back into my bag.

“They’re persistent, that’s for sure.”

“More like not used to not getting their way.”

Clare’s words from yesterday strike a chord within me. She was right; I shouldn’t have relied so heavily on moral responsibility. They were coercing me and have been for a long time. Sure, they played it off as doing my part for the family, but that’s not what families do, and I was never the girl to play along. I always did things my way—when did that change? And why did I allow it?

“So, was your mom serious? Does she actually know people?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He chuckles and winks. “I am from the Bronx.”

“The Bronx—that’s where you grew up?”

He looks over at me skeptically. “Yeah. Didn’t you and Nate ever talk about things like this?”

“No. I knew he was from the city, but it never really came up. Don’t get me wrong, I consider him a friend, but we really didn’t talk about stuff like that. At least he didn’t with me.”