Page 21 of Give Me Perfect Love

But I lashed out. I hung with a wild crew. Some boys from the wrong side of the tracks that I related to, more so than the rich pucks I went to school with.

We did what wild teenagers do. We blew shit up, treated the girls we were with like they were nothing, and experimented with drugs and booze.

I’d come home so fucked up, I could hardly climb the stairs.

And Pops let me go through that.

He let me get it all out, until he’d finally had enough.

I’ve learned a lot from that man, even if he didn’t realize he was teaching me.

I think about my brother and how our relationship has been rocky.

Back then, I failed to put myself in his shoes. I didn’t consider how me coming home messed up must have looked to him. He saw that shit when we were growing up. He witnessed my parents’ disaster just like I did.

It didn’t matter to him that I was tired of being looked up to. It didn’t matter that I was just a kid myself. Jace only saw his big brother acting just like his parents. I left him with Lee and Emily. I abandoned him physically and mentally.

I clocked out from my job as his caretaker and he hasn’t forgotten.

I sigh and roll my neck.

So much shit going on in our life it’s exhausting. If it’s not one issue it’s another.

Fucking life.

Where the hell is Kathrine? I toss my hat onto the dash and scrub down my face.

“You know what? Fuck this.” I grab my hat back from the dash and place it on my head as I take out the keys in the ignition.

I’m going to run out of gas sitting here like this.

I hop out into the freezing wind and snow, making my way to the office.

Where the hell could she be?

I don’t understand why she’s here in the first place.

Why she’s staying in this hotel.

Who does she know here?

You don’t come here for a getaway.

You come here for a purpose.

Opening the glass door, I’m attacked by smoldering heat from the portable heaters they have rotating around the room. There’s a loveseat under an AC unit and a table with magazines from the early 2000s.

Cracked tile below my feet tell me this place hasn’t had a remodel since it was built in the early ’90s and the brown water stain running down the wall confirms it.

The man behind the counter has brown skin and bright eyes. His smile is friendly, but he’s a serious motherfucker. I spent thirty minutes arguing with him when I first arrived.

“Sir, I already tell you, I cannot give you her room numba.”

I hold up my hands. “I know. But can you at least tell me how long she’s been gone? I’m worried. She isn’t answering her phone, and I’ve been here two hours myself.” I shove my hands into my pockets.

He sighs. “She left just before you arrive.”

“So she’s been gone for two hours?” I ask.

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