“I’m afraid to admit that I’m weak. Am I weak? Because my father treats me like I am. Did King see that in me all those years ago? Is that why he was with me in the first place and it was so easy to leave me? Is that what he sees in me now? Just an easy mark, a sure thing in the small town he’s moved back to.” I swallow hard. “So, I guess it’s not really what I’m afraid to admit to myself. It’s what am I afraid other people know about me. And whether or not it’s true.”
“I mean this with all the love of a friend who would not only keep your secret about where the bodies were buried, but would help you put them there.” She gives my hand another squeeze. “If I hear some shit like that come out of your mouth ever again, I won’t be responsible for my actions. And you’re talking to a woman who allegedly set fire to a bag of dog poo on her ex’s porch.Allegedly.” She holds up a finger, and I snicker. “So you don’t want to test me. Lennon, there’s absolutely nothing weak about you.Nothing. You’ve survived loss, heartbreak, disappointment and you haven’t become some hateful, bitter, angry person who allowed all of that to poison her. You’re compassionate, sensitive, funny and so strong. There is nothing wrong with your backbone. It’s not bent. And anyone who would try and convince you otherwise in an attempt to control you knows it. They’re scared you will one day fully recognize how much power you truly have.”
She sighs, releases my hand and leans back against the booth. I briefly close my eyes, so desperately holding on to what she said, soaking it in. Wanting to believe it.Needingto believe it.
“I’m not here to make you feel bad about King. God knows I’m in no position to be judge and jury over anyone. You love who you love. But you also temper it with wisdom. Make your decision from a place of strength as the twenty-eight-year-old woman who has life experience, not the innocent eighteen-year-old. Innocent, Len. Not naïve. There’s a difference.”
I inhale a deep breath, hold it. Slowly release it.
She’s right. It’s been a week since the day King and I had sex. Since I dragged my clothes and boots back on then left without a word. Since I last saw him. I’ve been avoiding downtown or anywhere we could possibly bump into each other. The truth is, I’m doing just what Lena said—I’m not making a decision.
All my life, things have happened to me. Discovering and being devastated by Dad’s affair. Mom dying. King’s betrayal and abandonment. Even falling into a relationship with Justin because it was convenient. Though I chose to stay there for so long.
But now, I need to stop allowing my life to happen around me or carry me along. I have to plant my feet and decide which way those waters are going to flow. Being a spectator is no longer an option.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “Thank you for loving me enough to tell me the truth. And for being my safe space. I love you, woman.”
Her face scrunched up. “Now you just made it awkward.”
I laugh, and maybe a weight hasn’t completely lifted from my chest, but it’s definitely lighter. Picking up my fork, I point it at her.
“Y’know, we really need to talk about this predilection for crime you’ve developed recently.”
She rolls her eyes and heaves a sigh large enough to part my hair.
“Spoil sport.”
* * *
King
“Okay, so I’m going to say it since no one else will.” Kade, sprawled in one of the studio’s wide armchairs, eyes me as he flips his drumsticks between his fingers. “What the fuck really happened in those woods?”
Even Rule, our engineer who came up to help us lay down tracks for a couple of songs we’ve been working on, turns around and looks at me. Mac, sitting next to him in front of the sound board, arches an eyebrow. And Gideon, who just returned from the booth, drops into the other armchair and crosses his arms over his chest.
Shit. I stand up and set the guitar I’d been strumming on one of the stands. Returning to the couch, I sink down, picking up my room temperature bottle of water. Unable to help myself, I glance at the state-of-the-art baby monitor that allows me to listen in on Gunner even out here in the studio. With a turn of a knob, I can even peek in on him up at the house. Not that I don’t trust Matt—I wouldn’t have him within a hundred feet of my son if I didn’t. But, well… Yeah, I’m an overprotective father. Sue me.
“He’s stalling,” Gideon says.
“Definitely stalling,” Mac adds.
“Which means somethingdefinitelyhappened in those woods.” Kade hikes his leg over the arm of the chair, and swings his foot.
“I’ve only been here for a day andIknow something happened in the woods,” Rule drawls.
“You’re all fucking hilarious,” I growl. “And it’s none of your business.”
“Well, that’s an admission if I’ve ever heard one.” Mac shakes his head and props his elbows on his knees. “But what the hell. I go for a walk in this hamlet and”
Gideon snorts. “Hamlet?”
“It means village, small town. Read a book.” Mac tosses a pick at him and Gideon deftly snatches it out of the air.
“I know what it means, asshole. I’m just wondering why you’re using it like you’ve suddenly become a nineteenth century bard.”
“You know, the sexual tension between you two is hot, but can we focus on King and who he got hisHungry Like the Wolfon with in the forest?” Kade interrupts.
Both Gideon and Mac flip him off but Mac shoves to his feet and strolls over to the built-in refrigerator.