Page 82 of Bad & Bossy

“He’s okay,” she said, but it didn’t quite reach me.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” I breathed, the words falling from my mouth over and over as if I were a churchgoer desperate to redeem myself. But this wasn’t church. This was my front yard and my fucking son was being put into an ambulance.

“I tried to call you, several times,” Vee said as she wiped her tears. “He, you know, he spiked a fever and I couldn’t wake him up, and it kept going up, and you weren’t home, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Ma’am, are you the mother?”

I glanced up, meeting the eyes of a middle-aged woman in a police uniform with a younger first responder behind her. “Yes.”

“We’re checking your son’s vitals and then heading straight to Foothills ED. You can join us in the ambulance.”

What is happening?

“Ma’am?”

“Just fucking give me a moment to process,” I snapped. My hands shook violently as Vee helped me from the ground. “My bag,” I said to her, glancing back at the car.

“I’ll get it.” She took my keys from where they lay in the grass and high-tailed it to where I’d left the car in the center of the road.

I should have taken him back to the doctor. I should have gotten a second opinion. I should have. I should have. I should have.

Two more EMTs came out from my house, and behind them, two figures dressed in plain clothes. I barely gave them a passing glance as I made my way toward the ambulance, all cylinders fucking firing, all thoughts blurring and mingling, turning into my worst nightmare.

“Dana.”

I turned and immediately wished I hadn’t.

The two figures in plain clothes were my fucking parents, walking out of my house, with my son’s giraffe in my mother’s grip.

I was going to kill Vee.

Chapter 29

Cole

Colchester Ski Resort was dull in the late autumn.

There wasn’t enough snow to keep my skis in check, the lobby was empty, and the bar was a drag. But it was quiet and remote, ideally the last place someone would come looking for me, so it was enough to keep me glued down.

I slung back the last of my glass of top-shelf cognac before passing it across the bar. Gray would be here soon, and if I had any chance of hiding it from him, I needed to finish it now.

Up in my room I scrubbed the shit out of my teeth, brushing every possible surface in my mouth to get the scent off. I dabbed on a lighter cologne, one that wouldn’t necessarily point a big fucking red arrow at myself that said “I’ve been drinking,” and splashed a bit of water on my face. I didn’t have the energy to hide the bags under my eyes today, didn’t care to shave. But I did what I could.

A knock sounded on my door. Let the show begin.

“Hey, Gray,” I said, taking a deep breath to signal that I knew that running from my problems was absurd and pointless. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t self-aware. I could play this the way I needed—I’m stressed, overworked, and overwhelmed. I needed time alone.

To drink.

God, I hated myself.

“What the fuck are you doing out here?” he pressed, pushing the door open before I had the chance to even let him in. I hadn’t considered anger from him. “You’ve got everyone worried sick and you’re out here at a ski resort that barely has any snow? Do you think this is funny?”

“Obviously, I don’t think it’s funny, Grayson,” I hissed, closing the door behind him. He stepped across the room, a subtle sniff as he passed by. “I’m stressed to high-hell and need some time alone to think. To breathe. Especially after what happened at the launch.”

“Is that all?” he asked, one eyebrow raising as he turned to me. His mop of black hair was unkempt, pressed down on one side like he’d been sleeping. “You think I don’t know you, Cole? You think after everything we’ve gone through together, all of your highs and lows, that I don’t see right through you?”

Well, shit.

---