I turn back to the window but curl my glass into my chest so she doesn’t confiscate it, too. “I haven’t had a drink since before the bastard bled out on the floor of Studio A. I think I deserve one bottle—just one. Plus, I doubt I’ll get sick—it’s organic.”
Jen looks from me to the bottle she’s holding and shakes her head. “This isn’t organic.”
“Well, shit,” I mutter and take another sip. “Why would you buy vodka that isn’t organic?”
“Why would you buy vodka that is? It’s vodka, not a peach. And why are we having this conversation? Let me make you some dinner,” she offers, tucking her non-organic liquor to her chest, as if I’d stoop so low as to wrestle it away from her.
I mean, I might … maybe, if my head wasn’t spinning.
“I don’t like peaches. They’re fuzzy and feel funny on the roof of my mouth. I only like nectarines.”
Jen frowns. “I don’t have nectarines, but I do have fajitas. I’ll make you a plate—they’re organic.”
I look up and frown. “They are?”
She rolls her eyes and walks away. “Does it matter? They’re from Chuy’s.”
“Oh.” She’s right, it doesn’t matter. Chuy’s is the best. I hear her moving around her kitchen and the buzz of the microwave before she’s back in a flash, holding a plate and an enormous glass of clear liquid in front of me. “I’m guessing that’s not unorganic vodka.”
She sets the drink down and shoves the plate in my face. That’s when I realize I should’ve looked for a bigger glass when I started drinking earlier. I toss back the last swallow of my top-shelf Novocain and push the black beans around my plate with a fork.
“I’ve given you time,” she states as she parks it on the floor in front of my chair and leans against the window with her legs stretched in front of her. “Tell me what happened.”
I close my eyes and lean back, trying to catch my balance inside my head.
“Did he tell you about his dad?” she asks.
I open my eyes and shrug before forking pieces of grilled onion and pepper. I talk around my food after stuffing it in my mouth. “I know he’s back. Nothing else.”
Jen looks at me with the same expression she always does, the one I’ve grown to hate over the years. It’s the one that tells me she feels sorry for me. That look from my sister used to be comforting when I was younger but now it’s plain depressing.
I hate it more than fuzzy nectarines.
She crosses her long legs at the ankles and settles in. “Eli is working for Trig and put cameras up on the edge of the ranch to keep an eye on the Barrett’s land. Trig’s uncle still lives there and that’s where they think Ray will go. Once Eli gets a tail on him, they’ll put a tracker on his car—if he even has one. I don’t want you to worry.”
I shove a forkful of beans in my mouth and refuse to admit how good it feels to put food in my stomach. “Why would I worry? I mean, it was only my testimony that put him at the scene that got his ass thrown in jail for fifteen years. Wait—ten, since he got paroled early. Yay, him.”
She narrows her eyes at my sarcasm but anyone telling me not to worry is like telling me there’re no mosquitoes in the state of Texas. “You know what I mean.”
I fork a zucchini and mushroom, just now realizing she ordered the vegetarian fajitas just for me. Of course, she did. Jen is exceptional at everything. Then a thought comes to me and I point my fork at her as I swallow. “Did you know that he never listened to my voicemails? That he deleted every single one of my texts before he blocked me?”
Her eyes widen and she knows exactly what I’m talking about. “Really?”
“He never knew. All these years he thought I threw him under the bus with his dad. Then he left for California and…” I shake my head and feel my throat thicken and not because of my dinner.
“You set him straight, right?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. It doesn’t matter. It mattered then … not anymore.”
“Ellie.” She leans in closer. “It does matter. You didn’t see him after you left for New York. He was shattered. I told you that. But I promised you I wouldn’t interfere so Dad wouldn’t go after him. It took months for him to get his name cleared. After that, he was done. I tried to reach out to him once to say goodbye and he wouldn’t take my calls.” She reaches out, grabs my ankle, and squeezes. “He lost you and your child. I love you, but you’re not the only one who experienced that.”
I pull my leg up and tuck it inside my long maxi dress. The food that was settling my stomach just minutes ago starts to sour and I set my plate down next to my empty vodka glass, snapping back at my sister, “I know that. That’s why I tried to make it right. But last week he couldn’t stand the sight of me and then today…”
She hikes her perfect, thick brow. “Today what?”
I shake my head and scrunch back into the chair. “Today I have too much to think about. I need to find out who planted drugs in my panty drawer. I need my in-laws off my back and I need to focus on Griffin. I don’t have the energy for anything else.”
Jen pushes herself to her feet and takes my plate and empty glass. “Drink your water. All of it.”
I don’t drink my water because I’m getting sleepy and am about to curl into my chair when there’s a knock at the door.
No, not a knock.
Someone is banging on her door.
I flip around in my chair so fast, I sway and have to hang onto the arm. No one can get into Jen’s building without going through security besides me and our parents—and I really don’t want to see my parents right now. “Who’s that?”
Jen frowns as she pulls up the closed-circuit camera on her phone. Her face falls and her eyes dart to her fiancé, who’s just walked out from their bedroom in nothing but a pair of athletic shorts hanging low on his hips.
Her voice is low and pissed when she hisses at Eli, “You didn’t.”
He hitches his bare shoulder where the skin is still pink and fresh, evidence he was grazed by a bullet just a few months ago. “I did. Don’t be pissed. I told him I’d give him twenty-four hours to talk to her and you cut that short. I owed it to him to at least tell him where she is.”
“No!” I stand, my right foot tripping over my left as my legs get tangled in my dress. “I don’t want to see him. Tell him I’m not here. Make him go away.”
Trig bangs on the door again and this time yells, “Open the door, Jen. I know she’s in there.”
Jen rolls her eyes, as if Trig showing up here after he confiscated my panties and while I still have the evidence of our time in his office between my thighs, isn’t the enormous deal that it is. She looks at her husband-to-be. “You know, if you wanted a friend in Dallas, you could’ve been buddies with my former trainer, Jase, but you fired him.”
He crosses his arms. “That’s not funny.”
She gives him a private smile as she moves toward her front door and I exclaim, “No! Don’t let him in!”
She stops her hand on the deadbolt. “What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know.” My arms flop to my sides. “Fire him, too?”
She flips the deadbolt and swings the door open, hell-bent on ruining my life even more than I’m capable of doing on my own.
There he is, leaning against the door jamb with a hand in his pocket. If my hazy brain remembers correctly, it’s the same pocket where he stuffed my panties.
His eyes beeline past his boss and my half-naked bro-to-be, landing heavy on me. “There aren’t many places you can run, but getting someone to let me in to Stark Tower is by far the hardest part of getting to you.”
My eyes go straight to Eli. “I hate you and I’m evicting you from my building.”
He has the nerve to smile. Asshole.
Trig ambles through the door as if he were invited. Though, I guess he was by my former tenant. As he comes straight to me, I shift my weight and reach out to the back of the sofa for support, feeling the vodka do its job t
he longer I stand.
“You and I need to talk,” he starts.
I shake my head. “I have nothing to say.”
“Then you can listen. I’m taking you home so we can talk privately.”
I hug myself tighter. “I don’t have to listen to anything you say and I’m staying here tonight. Griffin is already settled and I’m not waking him again. I did that last night and he didn’t sleep well.”
He shrugs like it’s no skin off his broad, chiseled back. “Then you can sit here and listen.”
“Sorry, I’m tired and I’ve had too much to drink. I’m going to bed.”
I turn to escape, but Trig catches my hand and stops me. “Angel, I have your panties in my pocket. You’re going to listen to me.”
My jaw drops.
“And with that,” Eli turns to my sister and holds out his hand, “we’re going to bed.”
Jen doesn’t look at Eli because her eyes are too busy gaping at me after the announcement of the whereabouts of my panties, specifically, that they aren’t on me.
“Baby,” Eli calls for her and she finally glances at him.
“Okay, I’ll just, ah,” her eyes dart back to me, “check on Griffin and then head to bed.”
“I just covered him up,” Eli announces.
“You did?” Jen looks like she might melt on the spot from her ovaries bursting into a scorching, erotic mess of flames. Forgetting all about me, she goes straight to the love of her life without offering me a goodnight or a toothbrush.
Traitor.
Trig squeezes my hand and I look up. In the middle of his dark features, his frosty blue eyes are anything but cold.
They’re blazing and determined and so very, very sober. I sway and he yanks me into his body, splaying his big hand over the small of my back and ass. “I want your attention so let’s get this done before you pass out. I don’t want you to say a word.”
“Shit,” I mutter.
He puts a finger over my lips and shakes his head.
Shit!
17
Unorganic Vodka
Listen to your heart. Sometimes your head just plain overthinks.
Trig
She falls into my chest and I slide my hand to her ass, where I can tell she’s still panty-free, and hold her to me. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Vodka,” she answers, not answering but also telling me she’s had too much. “And not the organic kind, but I don’t care. I haven’t had a drink in months and it made me feel better about the desk sex.”
I grip her ass and make her eyes go big as I narrow mine. “You didn’t feel good about the sex before?”
She frowns and gives her head a shake. “Why would I?”
“Because it was good,” I correct her. “Better than good. The best I’ve had since the last time I was with you, which is a long fucking time. And I’m not going to shit you, Ellie, I look forward to it happening again, preferably in a bed when you’re completely naked so I can give you the attention you deserve.”
“Oh my God,” she breathes.
“Exactly,” I confirm. “You’ll be calling that out on repeat. I promise.”
“Stop it,” she begs.
“Never.” I lean and put my lips to her forehead before nudging her to sit on the sofa. “Have you eaten?”
She instantly falls to her side, her head landing on a pillow, and her eyes close. “Fajitas. But I don’t think they were organic, either. My body’s going to go into shock.”
I shake my head and go to Jen’s kitchen to look around. Her place is the shit and probably cost a mint in this part of town. I start going through her cabinets until I find a bottle of Midol and a glass. I fill it from the kitchen faucet and go back to the sofa where Ellie hasn’t moved.
I sit next to her and swipe the hair from her face. “Baby, sit up and take this.”
She drags her tired eyes open and exhales a little moan when she pushes up to her elbow. Not questioning what I’m giving her, she gulps down the pills and I’m surprised she doesn’t complain about drinking unfiltered water.
She collapses back to the pillow, this time bringing her legs up with her, her dress tangling at her knees, her bare legs and feet stretching out as she kicks off more pillows to make room for her small frame.
“Ellie,” I call for her.
She doesn’t open her eyes but waves me off. “Too tired. No more sex.”
Shit.
I kick off my shoes and yank at my socks, tossing them to the floor. When she hears the clink of my belt buckle, one eye peeks open but she’s not concerned enough to move. “What are you doing?”
My belt joins my shoes and socks and I unbutton my shirt, shrugging it off and tossing it to the coffee table.
She opens her other eye and mutters, “I said no more sex.”
“No more sex, angel,” I agree, unbuttoning my trousers. I dump all the contents of my pockets on top of my shirt, and bend to stretch out beside her. “Not tonight, anyway. We’ll save that for when you’re sober.”
“There’s not room for both of us,” she mumbles. “Go find your own sofa. I had this one first.”
I grab a pillow off the floor and stuff it under my head, pulling her body up against mine.
“Trig,” she complains but doesn’t push me away. “I’m gonna get hot.”
“You never used to complain about this, even in the middle of summer when we had no AC in that old barn.”
She fists my undershirt and her breath feathers against my skin where I have her face tucked. “That was a long time ago. I was young and stupid.”
I run my hand down her back as her words soak into me as deeply as the guilt over the last few days. “It was a long time ago, but you were young and happy.”
“Why are you doing this?” Her words come out on a plea and I know I need to explain soon. Not just explain, but beg her to understand that we might both have been young but I was the only stupid one.
But while she’s drunk and tired and emotional is not that time. “Because, despite what you think, things have changed and I’ll convince you of that when you haven’t been drowning yourself in a bottle of vodka.”
She exhales and I feel her body relax into mine.
Just when I think she’s about to nod off, she murmurs, “Trig?”
I’m playing with the ends of her hair and sigh because another day is about to go by and the shit between us has only gotten more complicated. “Yeah, angel?”
Her voice is so small, I barely hear her when she admits, “I’m scared.”
My hand freezes for an instant before I grip the back of her head to tip it so I can look into her face, and fuck me, she has tears in her eyes. “Don’t ever be scared of me.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not scared of you. You annoy me and drive me crazy, but that’s it.”
I raise a brow. “That’s it?”
The vodka has made her honest to the bone because she’s not apologetic when she nods. “I can handle you.”
She’s right, so I move on. “Then what are you scared of?”
Her eyes glisten and she whispers, “The CPS stuff. The drug charges.” A tear escapes and she shakes her head. “I don’t know why it’s happening, but I can’t lose Griffin, Trig. I can’t. I already lost our baby. I won’t survive that again.”
My eyes close and I tip my forehead to hers. Her chest is moving against me, her heart strumming against my body. I drag my hand around to her jaw and bring her mouth to mine. Tasting her tears again, knowing what they’re for, is too much. My lips move on hers but I don’t slip her my tongue or move for more. I need to connect with her—I’m the only person on earth who shares her pain and I know for a fact it’s excruciating.
When I let her go, our lips are still touching when I lay a promise there that I’ll never break. “No one will take your son from you. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll lay down my life before I let that happen.”
She nods. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m a mess
. I’m drunker than I thought.”
“Go to sleep.” I tuck her face into my neck and press her into the back of the sofa tighter, her body pinned by mine. I run my hand over her hip, drawing circles there with my fingers.
Just when I think there’s no way she can still be awake, she shifts. “Trig?
I put my lips to her temple. “Hmm?”
She yawns. “There’s something else you should know.”
“Yeah?” I move and let her get comfortable before pressing into her again. “What’s that, my little drunk?”
“I’m not on birth control,” she admits on a yawn. My eyes fly open and all I see is the sofa cushion over her blond hair. “Figures, right? It’s us.”
I bring my hand up and dip it into her hair, pressing my lips to her forehead. I know she’s drunk but she sounds resigned, not upset, so I figure that’s not terrible for me. “Go to sleep, angel. We’ll talk about it tomorrow when we talk about everything else.”
“Now you have to keep me out of prison,” she starts babbling nonsense at the same time she wiggles a leg out and pulls it up and over my hip. “I can’t have a prison baby.”
I try to keep the smile out of my voice but it’s hard. “If I can promise you anything, it’s that you’re not going to prison for a misdemeanor. I plan to get you off on all charges. The rest we’ll deal with when or if it happens.”
She nods and this time I feel her body give up the fight for good.
“So hot,” she mutters.
I can’t keep the smile out of my voice. “See? Nothing’s changed. You always thought I was hot.”
She groans. “You know what I mean.”
“You’ll be fine,” I assure her and it’s the last words we exchange.
And she will. She’s lived through enough, even what I fucking put her through. I’ll do everything I can to make sure nothing else brings Ellie Montgomery low.
The unprotected sex is another thing, but when it comes right down to it, I don’t give a shit. It’s something that would’ve happened eventually. Sooner or later, it doesn’t matter—I’m good with it.
Broken Halo: The Montgomery Series, Book 2 Page 16