Page 72 of Watch Me Burn
The front door opens downstairs, followed by Maren’s familiar voice echoing through the house. I texted her to let her know I wasn’t feeling well as soon as I got home. Her reply emojis asked if I was okay, and when I said I just needed some rest, she said she and Ethan had it covered. I’m so glad he was here today.
“Lu? You up there?”
Her footsteps thunder up the stairs, and she appears in my doorway, her dark hair starting to fall out of her ponytail. She only looks like that after she’s had to fend off Ricky’s wandering paws too many times. Concern is etched across her features, and when she takes one look at me curled up like a broken bird, her expression shifts from casual worry to alarm.
“Hey, what’s going on, Lu?” She sits on the bed, and the mattress dips under her weight. Her gaze searches my face, and I know she’s cataloging every detail. The puffiness around my eyes, the pale cast to my skin, and the way I’m clutching my pillow like a lifeline.
The words stick in my throat like thorns. I’ve rehearsed them a dozen times in my head since this morning, knowing I have to tell her and my wolf, but now that it’s here, I can barely breathe around the truth.
I push on my hands to sit up.
“I had a miscarriage.”
Her mouth drops open, and under different circumstances, her expression would be comical, like something out of a cartoon. But there’s nothing funny about this moment. And she’s been through it herself, so she knows how devastating it is to lose a baby you didn’t plan. In an instant, she’s throwing her arms around me, pulling my head against her chest.
“Oh, fuck, Lu.” Her voice drops to a whisper against my hair. “What happened? When did— Is this where you went today?”
I lean into her. She’s solid and warm and everything I need right now. “Yeah. I woke up bleeding this morning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her arms lock tighter, her heartbeat steady beneath my cheek, and my breathing finds the rhythm of hers.
“I wanted to find out what it was first, before I worried you.”
“Did you know you were pregnant?” Her voice goes soft, each word placed with care.
“No.”
She pulls back to look at me. “Can I ask the obvious?”
My stomach clenches. This is my moment of truth. Well, part of it. The part I can safely share without revealing serial killers and dead bodies.
“I thought you said you aren’t having sex with the Wolfe?”
I nearly choke on my tongue. “What? Who?”
“The Wolfe? That’s what I’ve started calling Damien in my head, since you seem to dislike all my other saucy nicknames for him. It’s my running joke with myself.” She looks sheepish, like someone caught her talking to herself in public. “You know, because he’s all brooding and intense and has that whole lone wolf vibe. And, duh, the name.”
“Maren, do not call Damien the wolf.” The irony of her nickname squeezes my throat until I can barely breathe.
“Is it his? I thought you only let him—”
“The baby wasn’t Damien’s.”
Her mouth opens, then closes, confusion crossing her features. “Oh.”
“It’s a long story.”
She kicks off her shoes, then climbs under the covers beside me, settling against the pillow and pulling me into her arms. She tucks my head under her chin, and some of the tension leaves my body as I sag against her.
This is why I love Maren Rodriguez with my entire heart. Why she’s the best friend I’ve ever had, and why I would drive off a cliff with her like Thelma and Louise. Because she’d do the same for me. And she always knows what I need more than I do most of the time.
She rests her head on the top of mine. “Hit me with it.”
I take a shaky breath. Where do I even start? And how much can I tell her?
“So, as it turns out, I wasn’t paranoid when I felt someone was watching me?”
