“Yes…him.”
“If you call my parents, they will go—”
“Crazy? As they should, Addison. I still can’t believe it.”
Lowering my gaze to avoid her judgment, I started to fidget with my nails.
Tick, tick, tock.
Her clock was loud in my mind as I sat there trying to think, trying to work out what he’d meant by asking for more time.
One day. One more day to do what?
“Addison? You can never see him again. Do you know what is going to happen to him tomorrow?”
Gritting my teeth, I could feel the tears coming back and I wanted to yell at her, Shut up! Shut up and let me think!
Where was Grayson? Did he go home? What must he be thinking?
I needed to get to him before…before what? I didn’t even know.
One day.
“He’ll be suspended and unable to work, followed by felony charges and jail time.”
“No!” I shouted at her. “He did nothing wrong. You can’t do this to him!”
“Addy, I haven’t done anything. He did.”
I glowered at her, angry that she would dare threaten this man. This remarkably good man. Was I angry with her or myself? Who had really done this to him?
Me.
I felt sick as everything I’d done leading up to this moment flashed through my mind, and all I could see was him saying no and me—not listening.
“Addison, I have to call your parents,” Miss Shrieve repeated, almost as if she were sorry. Not sorry enough, though, because she still reached for the phone.
“I thought you liked him.”
My voice was barely a whisper in the room, but it made her pause for a moment and then she placed the phone back down. “I do…did like him, Addy. Before I knew—”
“Before you knew what? You don’t know anything. He helped me…” My voice faded, and I wiped away a tear. “Is that so bad?”
“No, Addison. Helping you isn’t the problem, and I think you know that. He should never have been kissing you the way he was or touching you.” She stopped for a minute and then asked bluntly, “Was there more to it? Were you two intimate?”
I knew this was the moment she expected me to open up and trust her, but she was in for a big disappointment. Instead, I stared at the woman who was trying to ruin the man I loved—and shut all the way down.
“Addison?”
With my face an inscrutable mask, I remained silent.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Addison. He…”
As she kept talking, I made the decision to flip the switch. To forget everything that Grayson and I had done.
I concentrated on the—tick, tick, tock—and let the madness come and devour me once again.
Fuck! I slammed my palm against the steering wheel as I sped home.
The entire way I kept checking over my shoulder, expecting cop cars to pull in behind me with flashing lights.
Guilty.
Yes, I was fucking guilty. Guilty of loving the wrong person at the wrong time.
Pulling into my drive, I jumped out of my truck and made my way into the house. Everywhere I looked I was reminded of what I’d done with Addison here.
Jesus, I’d deluded myself. How’d it come to this?
How did I convince myself that somehow we wouldn’t get caught, that I wasn’t throwing my life away? But tomorrow...tomorrow I’d be fired. Worse, I’d be charged like some kind of fucking sexual predator. All because of a quick…
No.
This wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t even about a kiss.
I needed to get fucking real. I’d done it and would do everything all over again just for a moment with her. For her smile, her laughter, and the way she looked at me with absolute trust in her eyes.
Addison had been hungry for guidance, acceptance, and love—and I’d reveled in having the power to give it all to her.
I marched to the kitchen, grabbed the scotch and a glass and saw my father’s pen sitting on the counter.
Picking it up, I studied the engraving and remembered getting it made for him. I ran my finger over the letters and felt as though they were mocking me.
Son, if you want her heart—go and take it.
Somehow, I didn’t think he’d be too happy I took his advice. I poured more than I should have of the scotch and raised it.
“Cheers, old man.”
I raised the glass to him and then slammed it back before closing my eyes.
I pictured Addison with tears on her cheeks and fear in her eyes as she’d walked away with Helene earlier—scared. Then I remembered the day in the field with the sun shining over her when I’d stupidly promised to keep her safe.
Who am I kidding? I can’t even keep myself safe.
Lifting the bottle, I poured another glass and swirled the contents around.
What the fuck was I going to do now? Tomorrow by three, everyone would know what I’d done and that would be it.
Over. Finished.
I’d never see her again. Never touch her. And I would never know what would become of her.
I downed the contents of my glass. The prospect of never knowing was a worse punishment than the public or any judge could give me.
I dropped my head into my hands, remembering Addison’s words, I’m your monster. She was so very wrong. I was honest enough to admit I was fighting myself.
I’d become my own monster.
Present…
“You have a big day tomorrow,” Doc says with a smile.
We’re back in the library, where I spend all my days now, studying for the test that is almost here.
“Yep. It’s such a long test.”
“How long, again?”
“Seven or so hours,” I tell him, turning the page in my textbook.
“That is long. Are you taking it here?” he asks and I raise a brow.
“No, I was going to break out and do it at the public library.”
Doc’s smile is warm and slightly…smug.
“Okay, Miss Smarty Pants. I meant are you going to take it here in the library?”
Grinning at him, I nod. “Yep. At 9 a.m.”
“Do you have everything you need?” he asks as he clasps his hands on top of the table. I look at the face I now consider to be friendly.
“Yeah, I think so,” I tell him before going back to the book in front of me.
“Addy?”
“Hmm?” I respond, figuring Doc will just keep talking as usual. When he doesn’t, I stop reading the paragraph I’m on and glance up. “Yes?”
“Make sure you have pencils tomorrow. You can’t use a pen.”
I look at the pen sitting beside the textbook on the table and reach out to touch the shiny gold trim. I’ll just take it with me then.
It’s my good luck and my hope, and I’m hanging on to it.
Just as that thought enters my mind, Doc’s voice filters through. “You should always have one or two, just in case. Here,” he says, sliding three pencils over to me.
I reach forward to take them, and he places a warm, calming hand over mine.
“Addy?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m proud of you.”
I can’t help but smile as he gives me a gentle squeeze before lifting his hand.
“I just wanted you to know that.”
Gripping the pencils, I hold them to me as if they are worth as much as the Mont Blanc. Now I have two good luck charms.
Doc has always been on my side, even when I was fighting him every step of the way. My parents may have lost their direction and turned into pitiful examples of what a role model should be, but they did one thing right.