Page 31 of Wild Night

Even though my body wants to freeze and digest those words Cidney has just said to me, I don’t allow myself to do that. Instead, my feet move because I know with certainty that this building is under camera surveillance at all times.

Rushing past Cidney, I walk into my office and around my desk. She is on my heels, no doubt realizing just what the fuck I’m about to do, and I quickly turn on my computer and log into the camera system.

Instead of asking her what time she left, I just go back to when I went to lunch. The interior of the office is not monitored, except for two specific areas. My office and John’s. If there were a breach of any kind, our offices have the most valuable client information. What is out in the other parts of the building ain’t worth shit.

I watch the footage of me leaving. About ten minutes later, Cidney walks out of the front door and climbs into her car. I stare at the front, but the next motion is Cidney coming back. So, I switch to the back of the building, to the time frame of when Cidney left.

That’s when I see it.

The door opens, and Posey steps out. John is right behind her. She smiles up at him, and I can’t do anything but stare. What in the actual fuck? They walk to his car, get inside, and they drive off.

Straightening from my position, I rush over to John’s office, and without knocking, I burst through the door. Luckily, he’s not with a client, but he is eating an éclair, his eyes lifting to meet mine, half the damn thing stuffed into his mouth.

“Where the fuck is my woman?” I demand.

His eyes widen, then he chews his food before he swallows it. “She asked me if I could give her a ride. That’s all.”

“To where?” I demand.

He shifts his gaze over my shoulder, no doubt to Cidney, who is standing behind me, then flicks his attention back to meet mine before he answers me. “The bus station.”

What. The. Fuck?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

POSEY

The bus pulls awayfrom the station. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Impulsive and selfish, that’s what I am and continue to be. But I have to fix whatever my situation is before I return to Thunder Rock. Before Dakota comes home from her honeymoon.

My shit is not her responsibility.

So that’s why I am on the bus headed back to California, hoping like hell that I survive this stupid plan of mine. Because, believe me, it is stupid. Really fucking stupid. But I’m doing it anyway because that’s who and what I am.

Stupid.

The good news is that taking the bus is a lot cheaper than driving my Mercedes. The bad news is that it’s going to take almost seventy hours of traveling, and I didn’t bring clothes or anything with me. Just my phone and my purse.

I’m once again reminded— by myself—that I’m not the smartest person in the world. My impulsive actions may havebeen bad decisions… lots of bad choices, but I’m trying to make this right. However, maybe this wasn’t exactly the way to do it.

Just maybe.

My phone buzzes and alerts me over and over to incoming calls and texts. I ignore all of them. They’re from Ivy. Justin Whitaker. Pinching my eyes closed, I try not to think about him, about being with him.

Everything about that man was perfection. Not just physically, although that was better than anything else I’d ever experienced in my life, but I’ve never felt so at ease with another person.

Ivy made me feel whole, and I can’t believe that after only knowing someone for a few days, I have fallen this incredibly hard for him. This in and of itself causes me to hesitate, especially since I’m on my way to deal with a very large decision that I jumped into because I thought I had found my future.

Again… I’m stupid.

I fall asleep knowing that I’ve obviously not changed, even in understanding my situation. I am repeating shit over and over. But I’m going to try to be different, to change the trajectory of my life. At least, that’s what I continue to tell myself in hopes I’ll believe it.

The bus pullsinto the Sacramento depot about sixty-five hours after starting the trip. This is one impulsive decision that I can mark off my list to never make again. I feel absolutely disgusting and exhausted.

I’m also still a few hours from home. Just the thought of having to call a rideshare for a three-hour trip makes me want to cry.

When I take my phone out of my pocket, I realize it’s completely dead. Not only did I come on this adventure with no clothes, but I also didn’t bring a charger with me. Tears well up behind my eyes, and as much as I try to blink them away, instead, they roll down my cheeks.

And just when I think I might be stuck in Sacramento for much longer than I want to be, a very familiar car pulls up to the curb right in front of me. Two years ago, the sight of this car would have given me butterflies.

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