Page 110 of Bought and Broken

Dane said he looked rough when he went there the other day. Made a comment about how he almost didn’t walk into the house because it smelt so bad. That’s not like Tate. He’s always been clean and put together. The fact he smelled bad? I can’t even imagine how he must be feeling if he isn’t taking care of himself.

Dane also told me that Tate got some bad news about his father. I feel terrible about that and almost answered the time he called after I found out. But I can’t let that be a reason I talk to him.

I will talk to Tate again, I’m just waiting for the right time.

I’m sad and upset. I miss him. I still love him. I’m not sure I’ll ever stop loving him. How do you stop loving someone you’ve loved for as long as you can remember?

I was furious with Dane over what happened with Summer. Mad at my dad for years for the way he treated me like a child. But I still loved them, and it was easy to forgive them. My love for Tate is similar. It’s deeply rooted in me. It’ll never go away. But that doesn’t mean I can give him my heart. I don’t even have all the pieces of it to hand over if I wanted to. Each day is hard. Some days are worse than others. But each day that passes, it gets a little easier to move forward and I forgive him a little more.

My only question now is how far will he go to show me he’s sorry? As far as he went to get revenge? Further?

I may be stupid for forgiving Tate. I may be stupid for taking him back if he ever asks me to do so, but people in love aren’t usually the smartest in the bunch. But my vision is clear now. Moving away from home has opened my eyes to the world and to my life. I know what I want, and I need to do whatever it takes to make sure it happens.

Though some days I regret coming here, I’ve never felt better in my life. Yet there is still a hole in my heart that I can’t seem to fill, because what I need to fix it is nearly 700 miles away.

Chapter Fifty-One

Tatum

One month later…

I slap my hand on my desk, the pain radiating up my arm. “What do you mean, you can no longer work for me?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Winters, but there is a conflict of interest with another client,” Adam says from the other side of the phone.

“And you’re only finding out about this now? After you’ve gotten so far?”

Adam sighs. “I’m sorry. I can refer you to someone I trust to handle—”

“Just forget it.” I slam the phone onto the receiver and scrub my hands down my face.

Adam has been working for me for nearly two months as a PI to help me find Devon, considering no one in my life will help me. Seems everyone knows where she is but me, and they won’t tell me. Which is absolute bullshit. Can they not see that I’m trying to make things better? I just want to find her and apologize to her. I miss her. I’m going fucking crazy without her. And now this? The last person I had to help me just up and leaves because of a conflict of interest? Who the fuck else has an interest in Devon? Someone who is going to lose his fucking limbs if he tries touching her, that’s who.

I get up from my desk, grab my stuff and storm from my office.

“I’m going home,” I bark at Suzie.

She stands. “But, sir, you—”

“I don’t care!”

I leave out the front door. I don’t bother taking the elevator, but instead jog down the stairs. It’s the first week I’m back in the office and the meetings I have are ridiculous. How is it that I have so many people working beneath me, but no one can handle shit while I’m gone? Isn’t that what I’m paying them for? It’s nearly the end of the day anyway. I had only one meeting left, and whoever it was can wait for another day. This is more important.

I’ve had it with no one giving me answers around here.

Once in the garage, I find my car and speed out of there. Of course, I hit a shit ton of traffic because there’s a mix of road work and three goddamn accidents. By the time I make it out and back into town, it’s well past dinnertime.

That isn’t going to stop me from doing what I need to do though.

I make my way to Summer’s apartment complex and park right out front. She’s dodged me for the last time. I’ve come here more times than I can count, and each time she says she won’t tell me where Devon is. Well, I’m done with that. It’s not good enough anymore. She’s going to tell me or there’s going to be problems. I need to find Devon. I can’t fucking take this anymore.

I go up to the second floor, find apartment 2C, and bang on the door.

“Summer, open up!” I bang some more. Constantly, actually, because if the only way I get her to come out here is by annoying her, then I’ll do it. I keep shouting for her and slamming my fist on the door. She’s always home by now, so why the fuck isn’t she answering the door?

“Hello, excuse me? Sir?” someone calls over the pounding on the door.

I turn around at the voice and find an old woman in pajamas and a pink bathrobe glaring at me from her doorway.

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