I looked over her head to Peter, lifting my chin up. “I need time with Bailey and Matt right now. You’ll notify me if anything happens?”
He dipped his head down. “I will.” His eyes cut to Drake in the hallway. “But you’ve had that handled for a long time by now. For what it’s worth, Kash, you deserve a night off. Try and have fun tonight.”
Have fun tonight.
I couldn’t remember the last time I heard those words directed toward me.
DREWBONHAMFOUNDDEAD
Wednesday morning, the body of Drew Bonham was discovered. Early findings suggest he died of a drug overdose. Bonham was charged, then took a plea for his part in the kidnapping of Bailey Hayes, Peter Francis’s daughter. Bonham was released on home probation, and was scheduled to testify for the prosecution against Quinn Callas, the former Quinn Francis.
Sources say Drew Bonham had a history of being abusive and controlling of Quinn Callas.
—Inside Daily Press
THIRTY-THREE
Bailey
I was in front of the mirror.
Dark pink dress on, halter straps that wrapped around and tied behind my neck. I was wearing simple ballet flats, a muted silver color. My makeup was bare. My hair was up in a twisting French braid. A matching silver clutch in my hand, and I knew Torie and Tamara would’ve been proud.
Torie and Tamara.
A hollow ache dug into the middle of my chest and remained.
I hadn’t talked to either of them in so long—too long, now that I was thinking about it. I missed them. I’d been at school, but it was different. Hoda was there, and I couldn’t trust Hoda. Melissa was there, but she was such good friends with Torie and Tamara. I pulled away from them. I still had some study time with some of my classmates, mostly Melissa, but it wasn’t the same. I did what I needed to do. My classes. I talked with my professors. I attended my meetings with Ms. Wells. And my internship, I hadn’t even started. That got pushed off because of Chrissy’s death.
I needed to start my internship, but looking at myself now, the desperation for work, for school, wasn’t there anymore. Iwould still do it. I would still love it. But it wasn’t the only me anymore. It did not define me anymore.
I didn’t recognize who I was looking at. I used to be tank tops and jeans. Sweatshirts and jeans. Nothing dressy. Nothing flashy. Now the dress I was wearing was from a designer that sent me clothes. There was a whole closet of them. All items sent to the daughter of Peter Francis, and I knew the deal. They wanted me to wear it to get their name out there. I got it. I understood it, but this wasn’t me.
Or it wasn’t me back then.
I placed my hand on my stomach and realized how much weight I’d lost. Jesus.
It was time. I felt something shift in me, something old reaching up, connecting with something new in me. They were intertwining.
I was no longer the outcast I felt like this summer. I was no longer the novice in this new high-society world. Whatever I was, I was me. Just me. But I felt rooted. I was no longer just a Hayes. I was a Francis. I was half of Kash, too.
Kash.
I sucked in another breath and felt the emotions sweep through me, but these were good.
I did not lose Chrissy, because he loved me.
The universe would not take away someone if I dared to love more than one person. I would not give up Kash.
I had not given Chrissy up.
Calhoun Bastian took her from me.
He alone was to blame.
My fight was to love, and to know that Icouldlove. Iwould notlose those that I loved because I loved them. I felt tears in my eyes and I swallowed a knot. I blinked back those tears and I raised my chin. I stared at myself in the mirror. Defiant. But more.
I was more.