Page 194 of Offside Devil

It’s only been fifteen minutes since I left Taylor’s apartment when my phone rings.

“Hel—”

“You can sleep on my couch as long as you want!” Taylor cuts in. “My problem was mostly with the not-showering. It wasn’t you.”

I’m still crying—I don’t think I’ve stopped since I walked out of Zane’s condo—but I manage a tiny smile. “It was time for me to go. I didn’t keep paying for my apartment for nothing. The plan was always to come back to it at some point.”

That’s not even true. I’m not staying here.

Based on Taylor’s long pause, she knows it. Which is why I packed my stuff from her house while she was out. So I wouldn’t have to lie to her face.

“You lived here for years before you knew Zane,” she says quietly. “You probably won’t even run into him again.”

“Is your boyfriend planning to cut his best friend out of his life? ‘Cause I think Daniel would object to that.”

She sighs. “You don’t have to leave, Mira.”

Even if Zane didn’t have a folder outlining all of my sins—even if my past wasn’t nipping at my heels—it would still be time for me to leave. I won’t survive it if I run into Zane on a weekend out. Or if he and Daniel are at Taylor’s apartment when I get there. Or if he comes into whichever restaurant I end up waitressing with Aiden or, God, a date.

I can’t stay in Phoenix. Not anymore.

My throat clogs. I clap my hand over the mouthpiece so Taylor won’t hear me clearing it. If she knew how close I am to calling the whole thing off, she’d be banging down my door within the hour to beg me to stay.

“I’m tired,” I manage. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

“You can call me anytime, Mimi. I’m always here for you.”

I whisper a goodbye before I unlock my rickety front door and collapse in the dusty entryway.

The apartment smells stagnant and mildewy. It’s the furthest thing from wintergreen and sun-warmed leather. The furthest thing from home.

I drop my forehead to my knees and cry until my throat aches and my eyes sting.

Then, slowly, I pick myself up and grab the suitcase I keep stashed in the coat closet.

Maybe it’s time to go up north. Washington or Oregon. Canada, even. Crossing the border might get complicated with my dodgy fake documents, though. Then again, with the money I made working for Zane, I can afford a winter wardrobe and a new name.

A fresh start.

It might be the only solution. Because Mira McNeil has been compromised. Not just because the paparazzi blasted my name ‘til kingdom come, but also because some part of me is always going to be stuck here. I was able to run from my past because I wanted nothing to do with it. It was easy to run from what scared me.

But how am I supposed to convince myself to run from the only thing I want? These people are the closest thing to a family I’ve ever had, and Mira will never really be able to leave them behind.

I need a new name, a new phone number, a new backstory.

I can’t ever come back to Phoenix.

A sob rattles through my chest, and I drop into the bean bag chair. But the stupid thing splits down the seams. My ass hits the hard vinyl and what little beans are left inside spill across the floor.

I laugh and cry, thinking about what Taylor would say if she could see me now. Probably, I fucking told you so!

If this isn’t a sign that I’ve outgrown this apartment, I don’t know what is.

Just as I peel myself off the floor, my phone rings.

I shouldn’t answer it. I’m teetering on the edge of my resolve as it is. It wouldn’t take more than a tiny nudge from Taylor to keep me here for another week, a month. Maybe a year.

That wouldn’t be so bad.

---