Page 100 of Undone

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Road trip

“COME ON. CHANGE OUT OF THAT OLD, RATTY ROBE.” Devon marches in, after letting herself into my home with the emergency spare key. She snaps open the blinds, leaving me blinking like a newborn baby.

I picked up what I thought was a cold that weekend in San Francisco, but when chills made me shake and my body ache; I knew it was worse than I had thought. I fell into a tailspin as I lay in bed thinking over the past year.

“What the fuck, Dev?”

“I’m done. Done letting you sulk in bed.”

“You don’t understand…”

“Yes, I do. When Rog broke up with me, it felt like death.”

“Yeah. But you were only broken up for a week or so.”

“Exactly. It’s time to snap out of it, Luce. Forget him.”

I snort, feeling the thorns of roses twist and squeeze my heart, “We didn’t need to. I can’t explain it. It’s like we could just skip all that and go straight into forever. And Roque—his kiss was a damn mind eraser. All I could think about was s-e-x. Lots of hot sex. It scared the shit out of me because I wanted to have a weekend fling with him; the head of a crime family? After dating the head of an MC? I need a break from men. Period.”

She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“I know how… it sounds.”

“Oh, Luce,” she sits down on the bed, “what happened? You were doing so well. I thought after that weekend in Chicago—things were turning around for you.”

“I thought so, too. But ever since I came down with the flu… I’ve been in a funk. I’ve been applying for jobs back home again… apartment hunting, too. I thought I’d make a go of it out here—but I just don’t know anymore,” I swallow. “My fever spiked to 103. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw another voicemail from him on my phone.”

“Smith or Roque?”

“Smith.”

“What did he say?”

“Well the first one he left me two weeks ago was very weird. His voice kept going in and out. I think he was drunk? I caught something about him being alone in the dark… and moss riverbanks? It made no sense. The last one he left me was sad. He sounded broken… all he said was my name. Then I had torrid fever-induced sex dreams. I dreamt I had aménagewith the both of them. Ugh, I hate feeling like this. Like I’m a puppet on a string of desire.”

“Don’t move back. The kids at school would miss you. I’d miss you. You’ve built a good life here, don’t give up on it just yet. Forget about Smith, you need an adventure. Come on, pack your bags.”

“Oh? Where are we going?”

“Away for a girl’s weekend,” she replies evasively. “Oh, and Luce—bring your passport.”

Shuffling into the bathroom, I peel off my sleep shirt and yoga pants, checking myself out in the mirror. I’ve lost weight. My hair’s limp and in dire need of highlights and my skin’s pale.

“God, I wouldn’t even do me,” I mutter.

Under the hot spray, I wonder how I let myself fall so far. I’ve never let a man get to me like this. But then again—I’ve never met a man like Lucas Smith or Roque Salvatore before.

Sighing, I turn off the taps, wishing there was a magic pill I could take to erase the both of them from my memory. I hate myself for searching for them online. But there was nothing else to do when I was too sick to get out of bed.

“Dev?” I call out, wrapping a towel around me.

“Yeah?”

“Uh—I need to know where we are going so, I can pack.”

“I already did it. You were dragging your feet.”

---