Page 133 of Really Truly Yours

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

The line goes quiet for a moment. “For?”

“For doubting you. For ignoring you. That was wrong.”

A soft chuckle makes the sentiment playful. “I’ll let it slide this time, Sydnee Lou.”

“It’s just, when we’re apart, I feel so…” Bad. The separation stokes all my worst fears.

“I hate being apart, too.”

I can hear it in his voice, daring my fears to hang on.

“Would you please come to Houston? The team’ll be there the day after tomorrow. I want you with me, Sydnee.”

Tears irritate my eyes. Happy tears?

Confused and regretful tears. “I want to be with you, too. But I can’t, Gray. I just can’t.” I need to work. Surely it wouldn’t be wise at this stage of our relationship?

Did the call drop? I pull the phone from my ear. No, the seconds continue ticking off, timing my misery.

“Then promise me I can see you when I get back next week.”

“Of course.” I’m counting the minutes.

There’s a resigned smile in his voice. “Then I guess I’ll have to settle for that.”

Chapter 29

Sydnee

“Sounds like it’s the alternator, sis. Sorry.”

I drop my chin. Surprised? No. The biggest shocker is that my ten-year-old rattletrap runs at all. Guess I’ll miss the game tonight. Can’t drive to Donny’s with no vehicle, can I?

“The good news is, I think I can do this one cheap. Pretty sure I can find a used part, and it’s easy to install in your model.”

“And the bad news?” I can see it on his face.

“I’m way backed up at the shop. Can’t get to it for a couple of days.”

My shoulders droop. He’s right though. Things could be worse.

Sam moves around me and drops onto the sofa. I push away thoughts of the grease marks I see on his work pants. He pats the spot next to him. “Sit, Neenee.”

Oh, no. This is very un-Sam-like. Folding my arms, I put on my big-sister face. “Spit it out, Sam.”

“Neenee.”

“Don’t Neenee me.” I don’t mean to be a jerk, but a premonition hammers my heart.

“Okaaay,” he answers slowly, watching me carefully. “Max is getting released the day after tomorrow.”

Three hours since Sam dropped the bomb and the tears still haven’t stopped. Am I losing my mind? Having a nervous breakdown? Changed or no, I don’t want to see my older brother. Forgiveness is one thing, a thing I’ll probably be working on until eternity, but going face to face? Nope. No can do.

There’s no way he’s changed, and I can’t be all pie-in-the-sky and hope otherwise. I can’t afford to believe his lies. Again. Sam swears he’s talked to Max about my feelings and that he’ll tell him to stay away—when he picks him up at the prison gate.

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