by Lexi Ryan
I shake my head and lift my eyes to his. This is a coincidence, right? The jewelry? The roses? This guy who has the most beautiful eyes? But the piece is so unique, and my skin crawls with the way he’s looking at me.
“Alex?”
“How do you know Sebastian?” I ask.
His smile falls away and his jaw goes hard. “Why are we talking about him again? He just makes you sad.”
“How do you know Sebastian?” I ask again, my voice teetering like it’s balancing on a razor-thin edge. Turning, I step back and onto the front porch, only because it’s the easiest way to put space between us.
“I helped him turn his life around when he was battling his drug addiction. I helped him.”
I swallow hard. That’s not something Mr. Bedroom Eyes would do, is it? The man Martina described wouldn’t help anyone. “How do you know Sebastian’s dad?”
His gaze is steady on mine, but I see anger rising in his eyes.
You’re imagining things, Alex. You’ve been spending too much time reading Martina’s journals.
“He’s Sebastian’s dad,” Logan says.
“No. He’s more than that. When you picked up your car that first day I met you, there was no invoice. Mr. Crowe insisted you didn’t pay. It was a lot of work. Thousands in parts alone. But you didn’t have to pay a cent. How do you know him?”
My phone rings, but I keep my eyes on Logan.
“Get in the house, Alex,” he says. His voice is low and calm, almost mechanical.
I shake my head. “Not until you leave. I want you to leave.”
“Just get in the house. We need to talk.”
“I don’t know you. I don’t want you here.”
He grabs me by my ponytail and yanks me forward. I stumble into the foyer as he slams the door, his hand still wrapped around my hair. My eyes water. “You’re such a pretty girl,” he whispers in my ear. “Don’t be like this. We’re gonna be so good together.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as if not seeing him might make him disappear. “You were with Martina.”
My eyes fly open again as he spins me around and pins me against the wall, his hands on either side of my head, his body so close I can’t move more than half an inch in any direction. “I’ll give you anything,” he says, anger inching into his voice and his eyes. “Everything.”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
His eyes drop to my mouth. “I’ve been so fucking patient with you. Come on, baby. Your sister liked me. You should too.”
I shake my head wildly, but he still has a hold of my hair, and it barely moves. Words, fear, and regret all clog my throat and make it hard to talk. “I want you to leave now. I won’t tell anyone you were here.”
Logan nuzzles the side of my neck. “I think I picked the wrong sister to begin with. You’re so much sweeter.” He licks my scar, a full animal lick from the top of my sleep shirt to my jaw. I shudder, nausea rolling through me. “I’ve watched you. Waiting for you for four years. I thought I’d get over this little obsession I have about you, but you see, I have what they call an addictive personality.” My skin is wet from his tongue, and he traces down the path with one knuckle. “Please, baby. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
His hand drops to my waist and tugs at my shirt, then someone’s pounding on the door.
“Shh,” Logan whispers against my ear, a hand over my mouth.
I bite down on his hand, and the second he pulls it away, I scream.
The door flies open, cracks against the doorjamb. Then Logan’s off me and on the floor, and Sebastian’s there, tackling Logan to the ground, fists swinging. Logan gets in a few shots and Sebastian reels, but he caught Logan off guard and he has the advantage.
“Son of a bitch,” Sebastian says, pinning him down. “You don’t fucking touch her.”
I scramble for my phone and dial 911. Soon, there are sirens, and it all happens so fast. This is how it’s supposed to be. The night of the fire, I called 911 and waited for what felt like hours. Maybe it was only seconds. But there were no sirens. No one was coming to save the day, and my sister was in that burning house.
This is the way it’s supposed to be. Something bad happens, and the good guys come. The good guys win.
The next hour goes in a blur. Logan’s in handcuffs, and the police question me and Sebastian about what happened. I hand over Martina’s journal with tears, shaking hands, and more questions than my clumsy, shocked brain can properly form. Only after all that do I think to ask Sebastian, “How did you know?”
He’s sitting next to me on the couch, a cold cloth against his swelling eye. “How did I know what?”
“How did you know that Logan was here?”
“I didn’t. I called and you didn’t answer, and I just…” He shakes his head. “I just had a feeling that I needed to check on you. Maybe I would have had a feeling the night of the fire too, but I was too busy getting high.” Shame and guilt hang on his words, pulling them lower. “I swear, I didn’t know about Logan until my dad told me today. He was supposed to be my friend, but he was really just there to keep me in check and make sure I didn’t go to the police about Dad’s whole operation. I never would have let him near you if I’d known.”
“It’s not your fault, Sebastian.”
“The fucker had you pinned against the wall, Alex. If I’d been two minutes later, he would have—”
“Don’t do that to yourself.” I swallow hard, mentally compartmentalizing the chaos of questions and fears all fighting for my attention so I can focus on Sebastian. “You saved me.”
“You got that backward,” he says, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You saved me.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Alexandra
“I’d like to call to order the first weekly meeting of the We Don’t Get Enough Dick club,” Bailey says.
Next to me, Keegan clears his throat. “Um, no offense, Bail, but I wasn’t actually wanting to hang out because I don’t get enough dick.”
I bite back a giggle, and Bailey grins, telling me she was absolutely aware of the way she phrased that. “Fine. The Undersexed Friends Unite club, also known as UFU.” She turns to Mia and wriggles her brows. “Get it, ‘You Eff You’? It’s a masturbation pun.”
“Oh, I get it,” Mia says, straight-faced. “It’s hilarious.”
“Don’t quit your day job,” Keegan mutters.
“Do I still get to be a member?” Mia says. “Because, um…yeah…not exactly undersexed.”
“Bitch,” Bailey mutters.
I laugh again.
“I’ve never been to a support group before,” Keegan says. “Is this how it goes? A bunch of chicks talking about how they need more dick? Because maybe I could make some room in my schedule…”
“UFU rule number one, group members don’t fuck each other.” Bailey turns to me. “Sorry, hon. I like you, but it’s for the integrity of the group.”
“I’ll get over it.”
“You’re all hilarious,” Keegan says. “If this was really about sex, you could pretty much end your problem tonight with just about any single guy here.”
She arches a brow and makes a show of looking him over. “As could you. With the girls, I mean.”
He grins, grabs his beer, and leans back in the booth. “So true, so true.” His grin falls away. “Too bad Olivia’s treating me like I have the Zika virus.”
It’s been two weeks since they arrested Logan Lucas. Sebastian’s dad agreed to cooperate with the authorities in exchange for lighter sentencing, and he provided them with evidence of Logan’s longtime drug-trafficking business. Between what Sebastian’s dad provided, evidence they found at Logan’s apartment, and Martina’s journal, they think they’ll have enough to tack on Martina’s murder to the rest of his charges.
I don’t think that knowing the explosion was rigged by Logan has relieved any of Sebastian’s guilt. But I do know that he’s glad to see his dad on the right side of the law, an
d the prosecutor is pushing for the harshest sentencing possible for Logan.
They kept the journal in police custody for the trial, but Sebastian got someone to pull some strings at the police department, and they let me go in and sit in a quiet room to read the rest of it. Everything I read there was as profoundly upsetting as it was touching. Because in the end, Martina was still my sister. That never changed. She made terrible choices, but when I read about those choices from her point of view, I could almost understand how easy it was to follow that dark spiral down into the fire where it ultimately led her.
There’s no way I could read what Martina wrote and have any doubt about Sebastian’s feelings for me, but imagining them together was still painful. I’ve been working through it, taking my time to process everything and figure out how I feel.
Bailey’s in the middle of a sentence when Mason and Chris walk into the bar, and she stops talking and stares at Mason.
“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” Keegan says. “The both of you are ridiculous. He’s in love with you; you’re obviously in love with him. Do something.”
Bailey’s face cracks with a self-pity I’ve never seen her show before, but then she looks down at her hands and back up at us and it’s gone. “That’s not an option.”
“Just tell him what you did,” Mia says softly, and even though her voice is low enough that I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be listening, I look up to see Bailey shaking her head.
“And lose him completely?” She grabs her beer and gulps down half of it before taking it from her lips. I wish she’d open up to me about her relationship with Mason, but maybe I wish even more that she’d just open up to Mason.
Sighing, Mia takes a sip of hers and raises her glass. “Here’s to impossible relationships,” she says. “And to love always being bigger than our mistakes.”
“I can toast to that,” Chris says as he steps up to the table. “So why wasn’t I invited?”
Bailey holds up a hand. “Excuse me. This table is only for sex-deprived single people.”
“And me,” Mia says.
“Right,” Bailey says. “Sex-deprived single people and Mia because she gets to go wherever I go.”
“I might not be single,” Chris says, “but my girlfriend living in New York makes the other part pretty damn applicable.” He brings his beer to his lips. “Already counting down until Thanksgiving.”
“So you’re saying UFU”—Bailey pauses dramatically, and Chris coughs on his beer—“is for you?”
“Undersexed Friends Unite,” Mia explains.
Keegan and I scoot over in the booth, and I pat the bench beside me. “Join us,” I tell Chris.
Next, Mason walks up to the table and, without saying anything, Mia and Bailey scoot over to make room for him.
“Where’s Sebastian?” Everyone looks at me like I’m not supposed to ask that question, but can you blame me?
Chris clears his throat. “I think he went to see his mom tonight.”
“Good.” He’s been spending more time over there since his father’s arrest, and I like to imagine him mending all his broken family ties.
“Are you doing okay?” Chris asks. “After…everything?”
“Yeah, actually, I am. It’s been intense, but I have closure I didn’t realize I needed.”
“Well, there’s a bar for sale next door if anyone wants to go into business,” Mason says.
Keegan rubs his jaw. “That’s not actually a bad idea.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Chris asks.
“What? My baby mama lives here. What am I supposed to do? Just carry on with my life like I don’t have a kid out there? After I graduate in May, I’m staying in Blackhawk Valley.”
“And you’re gonna run a bar,” Chris says in disbelief.
Mason shrugs. “I don’t think it’s a terrible idea, but you have to change it from the uppity shit he had for sale.”
“Oh yeah,” Keegan says, “It needs to be a sports bar. Obviously.”
“Let me know if you need help with financing,” Mia says. “I know a guy who might be interested in the investment.”
“But you have to have at least one karaoke night,” Bailey says.
“Well, damn.” Keegan rubs his hands together. “Let’s start a business.”
We all order another round of drinks and talk about everything and nothing. It feels almost like my life has finally fallen into place after all these years, except there’s this one piece missing and I can’t stop thinking about him.
Bailey catches me staring off into space and taps on my glass to get my attention. “Go to him.” She fishes her keys from her pocket and hands them to me across the table. “I can make myself scarce. I owe you more than that after being so fucking wrong about asshole Logan. Go on now. You’ve waited long enough.”
I bite my lip. She’s right. Sebastian’s been giving me the space I asked for, but it’s time to tell him that I love him, miss him, am miserable without him. “I’m nervous.”
“You don’t need to be. You’ve got this.”
I stand and say my goodbyes to everyone.
Chris winks at me. “Tell Sebastian we said hi.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Sebastian
“How are you doing?” I ask Mom. We’re sitting on the couch in the living room like we have so many times since Dad’s arrest. In a lot of ways, it’s been good for us. I’ve been over more, and she looks good, maybe a little tired, but the dark circles under her eyes aren’t anything compared to what I’ve seen before—during the hard times, during the cancer.
“Bash,” she says, “I’m fine. I’ve wanted to leave your father for a long time now, and I didn’t have the courage to do it before. He got in my head, you know? He convinced me I couldn’t do it without him, and since I know what it’s like to have nothing, I was scared.” She takes a breath. “There’s a silver lining in everything, and the silver lining in your father’s greed is that it gave me the push I needed to be brave.”
I wince. All this time I thought the best outcome was keeping the family together. Even during the days when my bitterness with my father was at its worst, I never stopped to consider that Mom might be better off if the family fell apart. I never stopped to consider that, like Maggie Thompson’s broken pottery, maybe breaking would have allowed my family to build something better.
“You won’t ever have to worry about money,” I tell her. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, even if it means I have to work two jobs. You won’t have to struggle again.”
She huffs. “That is not your responsibility. I’m a grown woman and I’m not sick anymore. God has given me another chance, and I can take care of myself.” Smiling, she pats my shoulder. “Now, when you become some bigshot NFL player, then we can talk about you buying something for your mom. But until then, just trust that I’ve got this. Okay?”
“Okay.” It’s not an easy promise. Dad, despite all his flaws, instilled in me this belief that we need to take care of our family. He took it too far, but at its core, it isn’t a terrible thing to teach a kid.
Mom shakes her head. “If I could have a redo and change the way—”
“Mom, don’t.”
“You always carried too much of our struggle on your shoulders. It shouldn’t have been yours, but I know I did the best I could.” She sighs, stands, and stretches. “Now, your sister…I’m not sure what we’re going to do about her.”
I rub the back of my neck. Olivia is almost five months along now, and while her pregnancy is starting to show, she has yet to make any plans for how she’s going to live after the baby’s born.
“I’ve offered to set up a nursery here or to help her fill out paperwork for low-income student housing if she wants to do it on her own, but she won’t make a decision. It’s as if she’s in denial about the whole thing, and I’m not sure if this situation with your father is making it better or worse.”
“She’s taking it really hard.”
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Mom nods. “Yeah. She was his little girl. He always spoiled her as much as he could. Now she feels like she’s screwed up. She’s going to be a single mom with no college degree living in her mother’s house, and now she doesn’t even have her daddy there to hold her hand. It’s tough.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
Mom wraps me into a big hug and squeezes me tight. “You’re a good boy.” She reaches up to ruffle my hair. “I’m proud of you.”
I walk to Olivia’s room and knock on the door before cracking it open. “May I come in?”
“Go ahead,” she says. She’s sitting on the bed, her legs folded under her, her iPad propped on a pillow in front of her.
“What are you looking at?”
“My Pinterest boards. Did you know I have a board for every room of my dream home? Decoration ideas, colors for the walls, furniture. I even have an entire board dedicated exclusively to master bathrooms.”
“It can be fun to dream.” I watch as she taps the screen and scrolls through images of perfectly polished houses. “But you know that’s not what those places look like while people are living in them, right? Unless you spent all your time cleaning and never lived your life, it only looks that good for the holidays.”
“I hated being poor, Sebastian. I hated the kids thinking I was dirty because I wore the same clothes all the time, and I hated feeling like when Mom and Dad bought something for me I was cheating them.”
“I know.” I sit on the edge of the bed and put my hand over hers.
“I’m not shallow.” There are tears in her voice. “I didn’t want to be poor, but I never would have wanted him to make the choices he did.”
“Of course not, Liv.”
She places a hand on her rounded belly. “It makes me realize my priorities have been all screwed up.”
“Does this mean you’re going to give Keegan a chance?”
She shrugs, and a tear rolls down her cheek.
“He’s the father of your baby, Liv, not just some guy you’re blowing off at a party.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to marry him, does it?” Her voice hitches with panic.