Page 45 of Haunted Hearts
I peel out of the driveway and speed off for the Hawthorne County jail. Part of me thinks I shouldn’t even bail Zeke out, should just let him sit there all night and think about what the fuck he did, but I don’t think I can. I’ve got the money—just barely—and I’ve already been absent enough the way it is. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s half my fault he’s there.
It’s time I get my focus straight. Letting myself get involved with Lydia hasn’t been good for anyone. Carrying on with her while knowing full well I’m going to have to make good on those renovations? No matter how good the sex is—or how freeing it’s been to let myself be, I don’t know, the tiniest bitvulnerable—it’s not worth the emotional distress it’s going to cause.
And it’s also meant I’m not there for Zeke like I should be—which is, honestly, more like my fucking old man than I care to admit. It’s over with Lydia. It has to be.
At a red light, I text Ethan back. I need to do it now before I lose the nerve.
Will: Sure thing. Permits are in, I think we can fast track the bidding.
I toss my phone onto the passenger seat, staring out at the road ahead. I don’t know where this soft Will came from, but he’s overstayed his welcome. I’m bailing Zeke out, taking him home, and gathering all the contacts I can to send to Ethan.
The sooner this is over and we can all move on, the better for everyone. Lydia included.
twenty-four
LYDIA
Lydia: So, the enemy is 1000% still the enemy.
Autumn: What happened??
Lydia: Are you at home?
I’ve barely even hit send when a call from Autumn pops up on the screen. Sighing, I answer it, and she launches right in.
“Are you in the car already? Because I’m sitting here on the couch, and I can clearly see a bottle of red on the table with your name all over it.”
“Ha. Is that an invitation?”
“Girl,duh. Patrick’s in New York, you need a getaway, and I need to hear details. It’s a done deal.”
I hang up, grab my toothbrush, a pair of sweats, and a comfy t-shirt to sleep in, and hop in the car. She doesn’t need to tell me twice.
Autumn’s lake houseisa getaway. It’s just outside of Hawthorne Bay proper, located in this gated community of gorgeous houses clustered around a picturesque little New England lake. With Autumn’s husband in New York, it means we’ll have the house to ourselves—the whole huge, rustic mansion on the lake. It’s always so clean and cozy, with its polished hardwood floors and towering, stone fireplace. The boathouse and the dock, the gardener’s cabin, the fire pit on the patio, the perfectly manicured front lawn.
I guess it’s part of why she turned a blind eye to Patrick’s… philandering… the way she did, although I don’t think I’d ever say that to her. To each her own. It’s not like I’ve made wonderful choices when it comes to men.
When I pull up at Autumn’s house, she ushers me inside. She’s got a fire going in the fireplace, and a bottle of wine under her arm, upside down wine glasses dangling between her fingers. We plop down on the sofas in front of the fire, snuggling up with the big fuzzy blankets Autumn keeps handy all over the living room.
Autumn pours me a generous glass of wine as I launch into the story. I leave out how Will and I spent this afternoon. Because honestly, I don’t even want to admit it. I feel so played.
“Well, I think the fact that Will wasplanningto tell you is a good sign,” Autumn points out as she downs her second glass of wine. She reaches for the bottle.
“Yeah, well, he can plan all he wants, but the fact remains that hedidn’ttell me.” I’m drinking more slowly than Autumn is, but she tops up my glass, anyway.
“I mean… that’s true. He could also just be saying that because he likes sticking his penis inside you. But, like, men can get that shit anywhere. Ask me how I know.” She raises an eyebrow over her wine glass.
“Yeah…”
I haven’t told Autumn about the cold wave that washed through my body when I saw that text on Will’s phone. I’ve barely even let myself register it. Because, deep down, I know that wave of despair wasn’t only about the library. It was also about him. About how, apparently, the last few weeks meant nothing to him.
“I’m just saying,” Autumn says, gesturing with her wine glass. She glances out the window. “It’s a full moon tomorrow. Weird energy, you know? Don’t give up hope yet.”
I snort. I have no idea what the full moon has to do with this.“Hope of what? That Will might still talk Ethan Wilde out of that damn computer lab? Or that he’ll… like…”
My voice trails off. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to admitting to anyone that there might be more to my tryst with Will than just sex.
Autumn smirks. She knows where that sentence was going. “That he’ll what?”
