Page 112 of Bought and Broken

“I don’t remember,” she says, clearly being smart.

“Liar,” I growl. “You know where she is.”

“Don’t think I do,” she adds, grabbing a box of cereal and putting it on top of the fridge. Astrid is still running in circles, but now she’s moo-ing.

Kids are so weird.

“Summer, please. I am begging you. I need to know where she is.”

“You know, Tate. I think if you really knew her, you’d know exactly where she is.”

“I don’t know what that means!” I growl. Dane didn’t say those exact words, but he hinted at it. Don’t they know I’d be there if I knew where she was?

“Which just tells me you don’t want to find her at all. And what makes you think I would tell you where she is after what you did to her?” she snarks.

“Because I miss her, and I need to talk to her. I love her, Summer. I need to find her.”

“You know that Beatles song? The one about love is all you need?”

I sigh, running a hand down my face. “Yes,” I grit out.

She leans close to me, smirking. “It’s bullshit.” She pats me on the chest, then moves by me toward Astrid.

“Just tell me where Devon is!” I shout.

“Auntie Devon beach!” Astrid shouts. “Beach, beach, beach. Fishies. Oh, sand!” She gets on the floor on her stomach and pretends to swim. “Swim beach. Swim water.” She rolls onto her back and starts laughing. Summer looks at me with a frown.

“Big mouth,” she mutters under her breath.

Then it hits me.

Devon is at the beach.

How the fuck did I not figure that out?

I run over to Astrid, pick her up and hug her. “You’re the best kid in the entire world, and I’m going to buy you a pony.” She frowns, looking at me like I’m crazy. “Do you even know what a pony is?”

She shrugs, throwing her hands up. I hand her to her mother.

“Nice chatting, Summer. I appreciate the non-help.” I hurry toward the door.

“You’re not buying my kid a pony!” she shouts.

“We’ll see about that,” I call back as I close the door behind me and hurry down the stairs.

There’s something I have to do before I go to Devon and beg for forgiveness.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Devon

Sweat drips down my back, but I throw my hands up and keep dancing. A perk of working at the bar is getting free entry into the club whenever I want. Not that work is where I want to be on my day off, but Mason wanted to dance and I’m comfortable here. So, I agreed to come.

“He’s here again,” Mason says in my ear. I open my eyes and take the drink he hands me, sucking down a big sip. He jerks his head to the right, and without making it too obvious, I look that way.

My heart does a flip when I see Tate standing by the bar, watching me.

It’s the third night in a row he’s been here. So maybe he’s part of the reason I wanted to come here tonight…

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