Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
He turns around to face me, a grim expression on his face.
“You don’t know?”
“What happened, Jude?”
“Hayden was held at gunpoint in her office yesterday. She shot a man.”
My knees nearly buckle, and the fact that Jude moves to make sure I’m okay only to draw up short of touching me says more than words ever can. He was being honest when he said it was the last time. Hell, he couldn’t even stand to look at me while he did it, keeping his eyes locked on the connection of our bodies instead.
“I-Is she okay?”
I realize I don’t even have my phone. I don’t know where it is. My car maybe? I drove around all night, unable to go home but not brave enough to show up here until the sun came up, and I finally mustered enough courage to tell Jude that I—hell, it doesn’t even matter now does it? He’s made up his mind.
“She’s fine. I imagine she’s upset, but Quinten is making sure she’s safe.”
I swallow, a weak smile playing on my lips at knowing she’s with her crush. Maybe she finally got the courage to open her mouth and tell the man that she likes him. It definitely makes her a stronger, more courageous woman than me.
“You should go check on her.”
Another shove to leave. It’s not the first time, but for some reason, since I know this is the last time, tears threaten, just like they did when he wouldn’t look at me while we were on the couch together earlier.
“I will. Thank you for letting me know,” I manage before I turn around, grab my purse from the floor, and leave.
Did I make him that angry, that bitter?
I never pictured him as the type of man to not check and make sure that I’m okay after getting such awful news.
I hate that I even wanted comfort from him. I’m a strong woman. I don’t need warm arms wrapped around me when I’m upset. Yet, for some reason, I feel like something is missing from me as I wait for the elevator, and that loss doesn’t fade when I walk across the parking garage.
I drop my keys when I make it to my car.
“Parker?” The male voice makes me snap my eyes in that direction, but it’s Quinten and not Jude.
Disappointment swarms over me and it takes a second before I even notice my best friend right beside him.
“Hey,” Hayden says, her face a mask of confusion. “What’s going on?”
“I… umm… I was coming to see you, but I just got called in early for work.” Another lie. They’re just piling up these days.
Quinten chuckles, making me wonder if Jude has been talking to the guys at work about what we’ve been doing.
“Coming to see me?” Her brows pinch closer together.
“After what happened yesterday…” I begin. “Are you okay?”
“What? But I didn’t—”
Realization slaps me in the face. I haven’t spoken with her. I got my information from Jude, and if that’s over, then there’s no sense in talking about it. My phone starts to ring, the sound coming from the door I’ve managed to pull open while lying my ass off. “I have to go, Hayden. I’ll call you later.”
I don’t give her time to respond as I climb inside, close the door, and get the hell out of there.
Tears stream down my face, and I blame Hayden for all of it. Blaming my best friend for not reaching out after such a traumatic experience makes it clear very quickly where I rank on her list of important people. Of course, she called Quinten. The man can do things for her that I can’t, but we’ve been friends for years, and—
I slap my palms on the steering wheel as I pull up to the red light. I’m losing my mind, face twisted up in pain at the things I feel like I’ve lost today. I choose to focus on Hayden because that’s the real loss. Whatever was going on with Jude was only perceived. I should’ve never gone over there a second time. I should’ve tossed that card in the trash and just went on with my life. I’m to blame for that, and I’ll deal with it later.
Hayden on the other hand, that’s on her. If something happened like that to me, she’d be the first person I called. Hell, the only person I’d call.
I think I’m on the verge of a damn mental breakdown. My hands are shaking, legs trembling to the point that it quivers uncontrollably when I try to press the gas.
Somehow, I make it home without incident, my face a mess as I park and make my way inside my building.
“Charlotte!”
I turn to see who is yelling.
My blood runs cold when I turn and see him. Right now, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but the cold fingers of fear put me on high alert. He called my mother’s name, but his focus is right on me.