Page 64 of Chasing Wildflowers
I pull my hand from his grip. “I told you not to call me that anymore.” I turn and follow Kam and Miles up the steps, the boards squeaking softly beneath our feet.
“Lane, please, just talk to me,” he pleads to my retreating back.
I continue up the stairs, leaving his pleas unanswered. I can’t face him right now. I’m too emotional, too angry, too everything.
“Give her some space, Son. She’s dealing with a lot right now.” I hear Vic say softly.
I manage to hold it together until Miles leaves the room. Then a strangled sob rips from my throat as I sink to the floor. The door clicks softly shut, and Kam is there beside me in an instant. Her arms wrap around me as my body shakes with loud, uncontrollable sobs.
It’s all too much.
Jameson being sent by someone to find me. Some nameless person hunting me. Leaving my town, my life, to go into hiding. Kam being pulled into this mess right alongside me.
It’s. All. Too. Fucking. Much.
And I can’t hold it in anymore.
I sob for what feels like hours or days, until I have no more tears left. Kam holds me the entire time, stroking my hair as I soak her sweatshirt.
Even if I survive this physically I don’t know that I will ever recover emotionally. My heart will never be okay again.
I loved Jameson and he hurt me.
Twenty-seven
Jameson
My heart shatters as I watch her walk away from me, each step a hollow echo on the hardwood that splinters another piece of my soul. Pure agony. The kind of pain that wraps around your lungs so tightly you can't breathe.
I stand frozen, staring after her, as her footsteps disappear, replaced by guttural sobs.
Vic puts his hand on my shoulder. “Come on, let’s talk.”
I follow him into the kitchen, the faint hum of the refrigerator filling the silence. I’m dreading this conversation. I know he’s pissed at me, at Miles, at the shit we’ve gotten ourselves into. He’s never once raised a hand to me, but his lectures are legendary.
He isn’t privy to the details of the jobs we take on the side. It’s always been a don’t ask, don’t tell rule. Until now.
“Grab coffee if you want,” he says, dropping into a chair at the small round kitchen table, legs scraping across the tile.
I pour a mug, just to give myself something to do. The first sip hits like a shot of adrenaline through my overly tired body.
Miles strides in just as I take a seat across from Vic. His boots thud against the tile, too loud against the heaviness that hangs in the air. He meets my eyes before dropping into the chair beside me.
Neither of us says a word, waiting for Vic to speak first.
He shakes his head, a look of disappointment in his eyes that has my guts twisting. “What in the hell were you two thinking? Taking a job from someone who goes out of their way to stay anonymous? A fucking Ghost? I know you two take on some jobs that I’m better off not knowing about, but why the fuck did you two let this get so far before calling me?”
His head swivels between us. “I’ve told you to call me if you are ever in trouble.”
“It’s my fault,” I say, feeling like I’m fifteen again, getting a lecture after my mom found my weed in my sock drawer while putting my laundry away. “I didn’t want to involve you. To put you in a situation where you had to call in favors to cover for me.”
His eyes soften, but his voice stays firm. “Jameson, you are my son, both of you are,” he says,glancing at Miles. “It’s my job to help you. You should have called me.”
“Yes, sir.” Miles and I say in unison.
“Good. Now that I got that out of the way.” The crinkle of paper fills the air as he pulls a sheet from his pocket and hands it to me. “I called a friend from Los Angeles who did some digging into Byron’s juvenile records. He was almost expelled from school twice for verbally abusing his female teachers. His parents paid the school a shit ton of money both times.” He gives me a look that tells me I’m not going to like what he says next.
“He also called his connection at the LAPD, who said that there was a woman who fit Ceciley’s description who came in once to report domestic abuse. He also said the officer who took the report ripped it up as soon as she walked out and called Byron’s father, who, as you know, is a Supreme Court Judge.”
