Page 71 of Unexpected Redemption

I fold my hands on the table in front of me and lay it out there, hoping that stupid adage about the truth setting you free isn’t a bunch of hooey.

“A lot has happened since we last spoke.”

Pausing for a breath turns into pausing for three breaths. And a burp.

Terrific.

“Well, whatever it is, you look happy.” Freya nudges Stella in the side. “Doesn’t she look happy?”

Not waiting for an answer, I march on, belches and bullshit behind me. “Right, so as you know, I marched in here two weeks ago. In fact, this is the very room where I made a donkey’s rear end out of myself.” I do the stupid hand-model gesture again, stalling for time that I really shouldn’t be stalling for. “After that, as you recall, I spent some time chatting with my birth father and then spoke with Tomer.”

Gulp.

Stella’s frustration starts to bleed through. “Well this conversation is off like a herd of turtles after they had a big meal.Especially since you haven’t told us anything we don’t already know.”

The jig is up.

I flutter my lips with a forceful exhale. “Fine. Here goes. I know you ain’t gonna like it, but I moved out of the women’s shelter. I’m living with Tomer. Permanently. We’re back together. While not everything is forgiven, I understand why he did what he did. In his way, he was trying to protect his Boss. And then it got away from him, and he was afraid to lose me. It’s complicated. On the bright side, he’s agreed to go to therapy. And I’m also still doing outpatient therapy through the shelter. For now, it’s virtual because of all the craziness.”

Herd of turtles? That came out more like a stampede of horses.

“Uh-wah-pah-shaw-whatinthe,” Stella jabbers nonsense, waving her open hand at the screen like she’s having some kind of episode.

I hold out my palm to let her know I’m not finished. “Speaking of that shit. Sincethe mafia is after everyone and their brother, I’m spending my days here at Redleg, where I’m nice and safe. At night, we crash in a bunk room downstairs or go to his place. On the nights we go home, his detective friend sends an off-duty cop to hang out in front of the house since all the guards here are spread thin. So we’re being incredibly safe.” My hands fall to the table. “Let’s see. What else?”

“The job?” Freya asks, nose wrinkled and neck cricked to the side.

She’s precious.

“That’s your question?” Stella gasps, sucking in a huge swell of oxygen. “Seriously, Freya?”

Ignoring Stella temporarily, I answer Freya. “Right, so since I’m hanging out here every day, Boss Dad asked if I wanted to fillin for his assistant. She’s leaving town to stay with family until this all blows over.”

My mind rattles through everything I dumped on them, wondering if I missed anything.

“Is that a collar?” Stella asks flatly.

No clue what her reaction is, which is so odd for Stella. As long as I’ve known her, she’s been transparent as plastic wrap. And only as clingy as the generic kind.

Freya squints and leans closer. When she sees it, her eyes dance with joy.

My hand caresses the choker on reflex.

“Holy crap.It is. Look at her face. She’s smitten.”

At least one of them is happy for me. Too bad it’s not the one I’ve known since I was knee-high to a grasshopper.

Running my fingertips over the lock, I reveal a bit more. “It’s actually apre-proposal collar.”

The urge to stomp my feet and screech with excitement and girlie delight is strong, but Stella’s vibe isn’t right for that. She’ll come around eventually.

I hope.

Freya’s reaction seems genuine, only it’s muted because of the stone-cold serious goth chick beside her.

Who is no longer serious but about to . . . cry.

“Stella, say something,” I urge, my pulse pounding in my throat.

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