Page 68 of Not On Your Life

She’s still playing with that dang pillow, but her eyes slowly rise to mine. “That case,” she repeats, her voice stronger and her eyes fixed on mine. “I only got it because the victim was my best friend.”

My breath lodges in my throat as I try to remember the details. “Your best friend was almost kidnapped?”

Chapter 22

Maddie

Why did I just tell Connor that? I have no clue. Maybe because for the first time in the last four years I feel like I understand him. And it’s terrifying because I think I finally understand myself as well. I wasn’t innocent in our game. I took my stress out on him like he was my personal punching bag. His achievements taunted my failures, and I became blinded to everything else besides winning. Had he gotten Lyndi’s case over me, I would have been upset with myself for not working hard enough. I wouldn’t have accused him of sleeping with the boss, but maybe, I’m starting to understand him.

“Your best friend was almost kidnapped?” Connor asks again as he returns to the coffee table.

My chest heaves with unbalanced oxygen. I’m not hyperventilating. Not again.

“Yeah.” I held it together that night. I hold it together every night. But that night, when Ward told me to call 911, and then the line went dead, I have never felt so helpless and afraid in my entire life. That was the night I had my first panic attack.

The only reason I made it through was because Ward’s best friend, Caleb, had come barging through the door at the right time.

I had my second panic attack the night before that case, my very first and last case, went to trial. I haven’t had anything close to one since Connor and I were trapped in that closet together.

Connor’s stare softens, and he covers my hand with his. “What happened?”

There’s no reason to tell him anything. I don’t have to. But…I can’t stop myself. Moisture gathers at the corner of my eyes. “I was watching her son while she went to a gala. Her ex-convict boyfriend found her outside and tried to take her.” I shudder. Things could have gone so differently that night. ”Her new boyfriend, Ward, called and asked if I knew where she’d disappeared to. Then he heard her cry for help, and he found her being dragged away.” I tug on the seams of the pillow. It will be lucky to survive this conversation.

He mutters a curse under his breath, but I still hear it. “I’m sorry Maddie.”

I wave it away. It’s all too much. I didn’t sign up for this today, and I’m suddenly exhausted. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Your best friend was almost taken while you had her son. He could have come for the child, and you, as well.”

I sniff, pushing back the tears. I take a long steadying breath, but the memories come flooding back.

He could have. I remember being terrified he would. But I shoved that fear as deep as I could so I could keep Crew safe. It worked to some extent, but while he lay snuggled in his bed, I’d ended up in the fetal position by the front door.

I shake my head, my vision blurring as I try to focus on the flowers embroidered into the pillow. “He didn’t. I was fine.”

Connor squeezes my fingers then releases them to grab my face. My chin quivers against his hand. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

His words reach inside me, curving around my heart and convincing it to let go. One tear escapes down my cheek, and he catches it with his finger. He doesn’t have time to catch the next, or the next, as they come at a rapid pace. I’m barely aware of him moving, but somehow he ends up on the couch with me, his hand cradling the back of my head, my face pressed into his clean white shirt.

I don’t have to admit how scared I was; he knows. And that’s all I need. After the incident, I insisted Lyndi go to counseling. I never told her or my parents, but I found a therapist for a time as well. She helped me deal with the trauma, but it feels good to have someone hold me like this while I cry, while I let the last of it out.

A completely unwarranted thought afflicts me as I rest my head against his chest.

I like this. And gosh, I hate myself for liking it. This is Connor. My mortal enemy, the pain in my side, the guy who played a part in ruining my career. How can I feel anything for him after he admitted to all he’d done?

The answer is a murky gray between a black-and-white option.

My mind is a confusing place, and it only makes me more upset.

I’m vaguely aware of his hand stroking my back, soothing away the worries both past and present.

I don’t know how long I remain pressed against his chest. Time doesn’t seem to matter in moments like this. The circles he rubs on my back slow, and so does his breathing. I count his heartbeats until I get to one hundred, then I lift myself off him, shame filling my cheeks. Icriedon Connor. Connor, who is…asleep?

I confessed all of that to him, and he fell asleep? I sit up straighter. He doesn’t budge. Seriously? I’m about to shake him awake for being stupid enough to fall asleep at a time like this when a better thought occurs.

Connor Quinn is overdue for a little revenge.

I lower my feet to the ground then remember my sprained ankle. The pain is bearable but I don’t have the energy to go far. I glance around the room and spot a tube of lipstick on the side table. I gently scoot over to it and pick it up.

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