Page 26 of Wild Valentine
“And what did she say when you asked her about it?”
I squint up at him as a pang of doubt unfurls in my stomach.
“You did let her explain, didn’t you?”
I scratch my beard, thinking back over the last twenty minutes. I was so angry about the betrayal that I bolted. I told Hazel where to leave the key, and I got on my bike and got out of there.
“I don’t need any more of her lies. She wrote the story, Badge. I saw it on her laptop.”
He nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. “If that’s what she said.”
Did she say it? I didn’t give her a chance to explain. But I saw it there on the screen. She lied, and she betrayed me.
But there was real blood.
No one would give up their virginity for a story, would they?
I shake the thought out of my head. I was let down once by a woman, and it was stupid of me to trust one again.
“I need a drink.”
It’s not even midday, but Badge only raises an eyebrow.
“Take it easy. No more speeding, and I’ll drive you home if you have too much.”
He slaps me on the shoulder before heading back to his car.
I continue down the mountain to the clubhouse. If I turn around now, Hazel will only be full of excuses. I’ve heard them all before, and I don’t want a scene.
Besides, what if I’m right? I can’t face going back there to find out that I’m right, that she was lying.
With a heavy heart, I continue down the mountain.
12
HAZEL
Valentine’s Day…
Mom’s hand clasps mine as I sit in the armchair next to her bed. An anxious knot has been gnawing at my stomach all day, wondering if this is the last day I’ll spend with her. My mood is made all the heavier by the fact that my heart feels like it’s cleaved in two.
After the time we spent together, I can’t believe Marcus left without letting me explain. But then I don’t blame him. I know how that phone call sounded, and he saw the notes I’d typed up. Everything pointed to me seducing him for a story.
My cheeks blaze with anger just thinking about it. I thought we had a connection, but if he thinks I’d sink so low, then he doesn’t know me at all.
I’m trying to tell myself it’s for the best anyway. I could never take him away from the mountain. It would never have worked. It’s best if I remember the good parts about the weekend and try to forget how it ended.
There’s a firm pressure on my fingers, and when I look up Mom’s frowning at me.
“Are you still thinking about that boy?”
It’s funny to hear the burly Marcus being described as a boy. I told Mom all about my time in the mountain. We always share everything, and it took her mind off her own worries for a while.
“If it was meant to be, it will be.”
Her voice is firm, as if this is the be all and end all advice on relationships. I try to muster up a smile. It was easy for my parents; they were so much in love there was never any doubt.
“I guess it wasn’t meant to be then.”
