Page 28 of Every Broken Piece
Something’s off with him. Something’s bothering him but he won’t tell me what it is unless he’s ready.
He stops in front of me, hands in his pockets, looking down at me with an unusual-for-him serious expression. “Nora.”
“Nora?”
“I’m meeting Nora at the gala.” He spins around and walks out, slamming the door behind him.
I spring out of the chair. “Wait! Jack!” But he’s gone and I’m left staring at the closed door in stunned silence.
Nora? His ex, Nora? The one who...
Oh hell. Shit, this isn’t good.
Chapter fifteen
Tess
My chirping phone jerks me out of a deep sleep, shooting my heart into my throat. I’m on my couch, cocooned in three blankets, my Kindle on the floor beside me where it fell after I drifted off.
Blindly, I pat around the blankets for my phone. When I find it, there’s no message and my heart starts to slow. I haven’t heard from my caller since I spoke to him last week. I haven’t had any unknown calls either.
If he’s waiting for me to gather twenty thousand dollars, he’ll be waiting a long time because that’s never going to happen. I’ve been in this position before. These aren’t people you just ignore. I know I’m working on borrowed time, and I’m scared.
Another chirping noise has me looking at my phone again, anxiety ratcheting up to unhealthy levels but there’s nothing there.
I unravel myself from the blankets and find my work phone on the kitchen counter.
GS: Tearing up the bar scene tonight?
For the first time all week I smile, then I frown.
What game is he playing? He leaves me hanging in the middle of a conversation last weekend, ghosting me for all intents and purposes. Acts like nothing happened all week while we communicated via email and now he’s back to asking what I’m doing this weekend?
I return to my nest of blankets and pull them around me. As I burrow into them, I’m well aware I’m creating the illusion of being in a safe space. I’m also well aware that three blankets aren’t going to save me from the man demanding money I don’t have.
Me: What if I am?
He doesn’t answer right away. No dancing dots. Nothing. Of course not. The man is infuriating, and I’m done with this hot and cold attitude. I don’t even know why I’m answering his texts. I have enough problems in my life right now and it’s looking like I’m going to have to pack up and run. Again.
I curl into a ball under my blankets and lay my head on the arm of the couch, sniffing the tears away. I really thought this was it. I really thought I’d escaped it all.
Why I’m hurt over Gabriel Strong, myclient, is beyond me. Not when I have bigger things happening.
GS: I owe you an apology
I snort, tempted to turn my phone off and ghost him the way he ghosted me, but I can’t. I can’t leave him hanging because I’m not that type of person. Besides, I’m mad. I’m angry. At him. At life. At Sandra Jansen and the man she sent after me.
Me: you don’t owe me anything
Me: you’re my client so maybe we should just stick to emails and communicating Monday through Friday.
I stab the period button like I’m putting an end to all of this. Stab. There. Done.
Chapter sixteen
Gabe
Ishould call her. Apologize over the phone instead of text.
