Chapter Twenty-Two
Sienna
I didn’t wantto go. I wanted to stay in this bubble Noah and I created away from the outside world. There was no other place I’d rather be than in the cottage with him; the curtains drawn and doors locked. But unfortunately, I couldn’t avoid reality forever. I couldn’t hide away and pretend that I didn’t have a life out there—no matter how Oakley managed to ruin it for me.
I hadn’t checked my phone in days, and I didn’t plan to do it either. But just as I grabbed a fresh pair of clothes, on my way out of my bedroom, my phone rang. I stilled and stared at it flashing on my bedside table.
Cleo.
With a deep sigh, I picked up the phone and answered. “Hey.”
“Where have you been?”
I sat down on my bed. “I’ve been…around.”
“Around? You ignore my texts and calls, and then you tell me you’ve beenaround?”
“I’m sorry. I just had to…clear my head.”
Cleo kept silent for a second. “I’m sorry about what Oakley did to you. He had no right.”
My stomach churned. “Yeah.”
“At least Silas kicked his ass.”
“He did?” I frowned.
“Oh my God, girl. Where have you been? In a damn cave?”
“Something like that.” I rubbed my temples, hating that reality was slowly sinking in again.
“Okay, so…I need a favor.”
I rolled my eyes. “What is it now?”
“I had this huge fucking fight with my stepdad, and I refuse to stay at that motherfucking house one more night.”
I fell back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling while twirling a curl around my finger. “And now you need a place to stay?”
“Yeah,” she dragged out the word. “That, and I kinda need you to pick me up.”
“What? Where?”
“Bastard took away my car, and I’m now literally walking down the goddamn road in my Jimmy Choo heels, carrying a huge-ass suitcase.”
I snorted, placing my palm in front of my mouth.
“Why are you laughing? It’s not funny.”
“It kinda is.” I smiled and got up, grabbing my car keys from my bedside drawer. “Send me your location. I’ll come pick you up.”
“I’m here at the park around the corner from my house.”
“The one where we got drunk for the first time?”
“Yes.” She chuckled. “Damn, that was a good night.”
“For you, maybe. I’m the one who broke my ankle that night.”