I sat in the car for at least five minutes and couldn’t take it anymore. I had to at least go look around. I walked up a million steps to get to the fucktard’s door. When I spotted the wind chimes I knew for sure this was where she’d been staying. I heard loud music and people talking and could tell there was a party going on. Since the door was open, I thought I might be able to steal her away and talk to her without his eyes on me the whole time.

I spotted her right away. She looked fucking amazing. She was dressed up and I really wanted those long legs wrapped around me. When she saw me, the scowl on her face was anything but welcoming. I asked her about the pearl necklace she was wearing. She ignored my question so I knew rich boy must have given it to her. I’m surprised she’s with someone who tries to buy her love. When I asked her the one thing that’s been bugging the shit out of me, my fucking worst nightmare happened.

My dirty little secret was standing next to me and talking to my Dahl. Dahl ran off and I hadn’t even noticed because my mind was engrossed in the vivid memories of all the different ways I had fucked that girl that one night. I only refocused when S’belle looked at me. I could have sworn she was looking at me like she got me, like she saw through my bullshit. But then she asked what the fuck I was doing there, and I knew I was just imagining it. Honestly, I’m really fucking tired of that question. Didn’t matter anyway because she didn’t stick around long enough for me to answer. She fled like fire out the front door.

I followed Dahl and when I opened the door she had slammed, I was surprised to see her hope chest on the other side of the room. I looked at the unmade bed and when I saw the black thong on the floor, I nearly lost it. I was in their bedroom. Fuck me!

When she told me how she knew S’belle I nearly shit my pants. Of course she’s the prick’s sister. It wasn’t until I knew she didn’t know the entire story that I could finally breathe. Just as I thought I was finally getting somewhere with Dahl, the prick came in looking like he wanted to kill me. All I could do was laugh, wishing I had at least been trying to kiss her when he walked in. I felt an overwhelming urge to remind him who had her first, and, shit, he threw a mean right hook. But I just kept on reminding him that she was mine first. I thought I could take him if I pushed a little hard. But when he pinned me up against the wall, I couldn’t believe he got me again. Fuck, he’s fast, but I knew I was faster. But before I could show him what I really had, Caleb pulled him off of me.

When Caleb threw me into his car, he really laid into me. I didn’t say a word. I just really didn’t give a shit anymore. We didn’t talk the rest of the way home and when we exited at Laguna I told him to drop me at Ana’s Attic. He pointed to the elbow I was rubbing and said he might need to pop that in place and that I needed to get a sling.

After the pharmacy stop, I headed toward the bar and Caleb followed. Pretty boy kicked my ass and I needed a drink. I don’t remember much except that I drank until my mind was numb and Caleb brought me home.

I woke up to my phone ringing but it stopped before I could get to it. I checked my messages and instantly sobered up. My nephew was in trouble and all I knew was that I had to get to him. Serena had dropped the car off at my house so I left as soon as I could to find him.

I regret having left Laguna for many reasons but when I saw Trent lying there among the garbage and beer bottles in the alley behind the concession stand in Newport Beach, I knew he was my biggest regret. Dahl and everything else aside, my nephew needed me. He was never close with his father and over the years I had assumed that role, then when he probably needed me the most, I wasn’t there. What had happened in the years I was gone to the boy who was such a great athlete, student, and all-around happy child? He’s now so strung out he barely knew who I was. I was terrified as I sat him up and he muttered things to me a sixteen-year-old shouldn’t have to worry about.

I knew looking at him then, that if he could be the only good thing I’d done in my life against all the bad—I’d take it. My mind worked fast and I knew I was the one who could help him get clean. I didn’t want to call Serena or Mom. All I had to do was get him to my house. I pulled him to a sitting position, but with only one fucking arm I couldn’t get him to his feet. And then as if God had heard my confession of sins and was forgiving me, there she was. She was there to help me.

I was surprised Dahl didn’t know about Trent, but then again the way my sister was acting, I shouldn’t have been. She helped me get him home and settled in what used to be our room. I had wanted to get her home and alone, but not under those circumstances.

We were both soaking wet and although I really wanted to strip off her wet clothes, I knew better than to attempt that under the circumstances, and, honestly, I wasn’t in the mood. So instead, I gave her a towel and some dry clothes. Once she changed she helped me try to secure a location for Trent and then we sat down and talked. My plan to skip talking backfired. It felt wrong. I just needed to let her know I wanted her back.

It was a relief to get it out, but her reaction was far from what I had expected. I thought she would run and wrap her arms around me, maybe even jump me. After all, I changed my whole life for her. But instead, when I put it out there, she shot me down. She rebuffed my every move. Then after I laid it out and told her that I wanted her, I could see in her eyes she didn’t feel the same way.

I tried to keep my cool while she was still here. Once she left I checked on Trent. Then I went into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. I knew I had to keep it together. I had to concentrate on helping Trent. I was fucking exhausted so I lied down on the couch to try to take a quick nap. I knew I had a long night ahead of me and needed to catch some z’s, but I couldn’t sleep because memories of our life together seemed to be everywhere in this fucking house. I replayed her asking me to leave that pretty boy of hers alone a million times. I wanted to say fuck no, riling him up was too much fun, but I didn’t want to piss her off. But as soon as she called him her fiancé, I was the one who was pissed off. I felt like she had just punched me in the gut. I was her fiancé. Why I even asked if she knew him while we were together, I have no fucking idea because I already knew the answer—he had made that clear. I know she would have never cheated, but it still bugs the shit out of me. I’m really starting to doubt that I’m going to be able to get her back. Fuck me.

Chapter 19

Pieces


I’m blaring “I Found You” by the Wanted and singing along to one of my favorite songs when my calmness fades and annoyance surfaces. Ellie’s car is parked in our driveway directly in front of the garage. What’s she doing here this late? Doesn’t her workday end at five like most people’s?

Jerking the wheel, I turn and park right in front of the steps. I rush out into the rain, and then hurry up to the landing. Turning the knob, I discover it’s unlocked, and I open the door slowly. Why is she here alone with River? What am I going to walk into?

I expect to see them sitting at the kitchen table, so when I see River on the couch and her on the floor beside him, I’m more than a little surprised. I take in the whole scene. The gifts have been moved to the counter. He’s leaning over the glass coffee table looking at a stack of papers. Her red shirt is unbuttoned so far that her matching bra isn’t the only thing showing. Her legs are bent to the side and her tight black pencil skirt is riding up pretty high. She’s leaning against the back of the sofa with her arm resting on it, very close to River’s thigh. Her other hand is holding a pen over the stack of papers that River is looking at. She’s removed her leopard-print, high– heel pumps, showing off her red-painted toenails. Her bare feet lay pressed against our wooden floor and she looks a bit too comfortable to be conducting a business meeting.

“Hi.” It’s all I say but it’s enough to make River’s head snap up, his eyes meeting mine.

“Hi,” he says back and his face is unreadable, but I swear I see guilt in his eyes.

The next series of events seems to play out in slow motion. Ellie swings her head around and her mane of silky black hair follows. She looks up and gives me a fake smile and a slight wave. She flutters her unnaturally long eyelashes and glares at me like I’m intruding. I can’t help but return the look. Then I avert my stare and look around. There’s a pizza box and a few beer bottles on the coffee table and I have to wonder how long she’s been here and how much they’ve had to drink. I feel my heart tear a little at the picture before me, but it rips my heart out when I see Stella, his guitar, propped against the couch on the other side of Ellie.

Water is dripping down from my wet hair and onto my face. I push the hair out of my eyes as she says, “Oh sorry, did I block you from getting in the garage? I never thought of it.”

I can’t help but sneer at her and say, “Of course you didn’t.” Afterward, I abruptly turn toward the bedroom and throw over my shoulder, “Sorry if I interrupted.” My head is spinning as I move to escape the large room that suddenly seems claustrophobic. I slam the bedroom door, kick off my shoes, and throw myself onto the bed. I know I wanted to come home and talk calmly to River, but now I’m just annoyed.

Staring out the window, I try to see the Hollywood sign, but the rain is falling so hard that I can barely make the letters out. I’m not a jealous person, or least I never have been, but there’s just something about that woman. I begin to wonder if I haven’t picked up on what’s clearly in front of my eyes. Have we been over and I just didn’t realize it? Is the bond I thought we shared not as strong as I envisioned?

Flashes of our fairy-tale romance swim before my eyes—our fun drive from Vegas to LA, our games, his crazy made-up rules, the fountain and our wishes, waking up with him every morning—him always asking if I can “wait a bit” for my coffee because he’s got better things in mind, sleeping on whichever side of the bed we happen to be on because being together is all that matters.

“What the hell, Dahlia!”

Without turning around I ask him, “Is there something going on between the two of you? Is that what you’re not telling me?”

“No!” he snaps and then I feel the bed dip as he moves across it. He hovers over me and his hand slides along the curves of my waist before resting on my hip. I shudder at his touch. With his lips near my ear he more calmly says, “Why would you even think that?”

I turn around to face him. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together. Then I come home and she’s here again.”

He shakes his head, “She’s here working.”

“I’m afraid she’s here just waiting to pick up our pieces.”

“There are no pieces. We’ll never be in pieces.”

I whisper, “But I see the way she looks at you.”

His eyes meet mine and he whispers back, “I don’t care how she looks at me. You’re the only one I see.”

I know I shouldn’t say this, but I have to, I have to know. “It didn’t look like that tonight. What was she doing here? Did you play for her?” I can’t bear the thought of him playing his guitar for her. When he plays for me, he bares his soul, and it feels like the most intimate moment two people can share without touching one another.

“Dahlia, I didn’t play for her.” But as he says this, his body stiffens and he throws himself back on the bed.

My heart lodges in my throat. “What’s wrong? I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

He sighs then announces, “I quit,” before throwing his arm over his forehead.

“What? Just like that!” I scream, bolting upright and looking at him in complete shock. I know we are having some issues but I never thought he’d just end us like that. “Without even trying to work this out, you’re just going to throw us away?”

He sits up and forcefully pulls me to him. “Fuck, Dahlia. No. Not us. I could never quit us, not ever. You’re a part of who I am. I was talking about the tour. I’m done with it. I quit the band.” He lets go of his hold on me and runs his hands through his hair.

I’m not entirely surprised, but I am a bit thrown. “Are you sure about this, River? You’re weeks away from the tour. What did Xander and the other guys say?”