Page 71 of Stealing Home

“My life hasn’t been safe for years. My lawyer is already working on a restraining order. I can’t let Nando take any more from me than he already has.”

“And, you need to talk to Scott. You owe it to yourself to air everything out and get some closure.”

“I’ll think about it.”

* * *

Since my caris still behind the run-down apartments outside of town, Griffin runs me back to my apartment. I think he just wanted to check things out before leaving me there. He lets me know he and Liam will go get my car later.

They want to check it out and make sure there’s no tracking devices on it. I don’t think there are. Nando might say he wants me back, but he’s enjoying the single life too much to do anything about it.

After work on Monday, I give in and send Scott a text.

We need to talk.

Say when and I’ll be there.

I’m going back to my apartment after work today. You can come after practice.

I don’t have practice. I’ll come when you’re off work.

Okay.

I eat lunch at my desk, wary that Scott will try and stop by to talk. I’m unsure I can get through this conversation without breaking down, and they’ve all seen me at my lowest this week. I need to fortify myself and stop being a burden on my friends.

The numbers help soothe me. There’s only black and white in accounting. Either it adds up or it doesn’t. This might seem boring to a lot of people, but I like the predictability of it. There’s areas where I am able to be creative, like finding different vendors to save the shop money, or digging into tax codes so we can utilize all available exemptions.

Immersing myself in work lets me quiet my brain and feel like the ground under my feet isn’t going to crumble to nothing.

Wren sits back at three and gapes at the piles of completed reports I’ve accomplished during the day. “You’ve overdone it today. Did you even take lunch?”

I nod. “I ate at my desk when you took Parker to the dentist.”

She looks guilty. “You should take off early.”

“No way. You need to go get your kids, and this is helping me. I promise, I’m pulling my shit together, but I need this right now. Yeah, I’m hyper-fixating on work, but might as well use all this anxiety productively.”

“You’re meeting with him later, aren’t you?”

I nod again. “Yeah, and I don’t want extra time to overthink what I need to do. I’m okay. Go grab the kids and take them home. I’ll be here to grab the phone, and I think I’ll redo our filing system.”

“We’re not going to have anything to do tomorrow,” she mumbles.

I laugh. “We still have online orders of your merchandise line to fulfill, the cafe’s inventory to review, and I saw Griffin taking notes on the back of a take out bag earlier.”

She groans. “I guess there’s never going to be a lack of work as long as that man refuses to learn how to use a computer.”

I roll my eyes. “He knows how, he just doesn’t want to.”

At five I shut down my computer and let the guys know I’m off for the day. Scott is sitting on the steps waiting for me. He doesn’t say anything as he follows me up the stairs, and I let us into my place.

I start to rethink having this discussion here. We should have gone to a restaurant or somewhere more public.

Stalling, I set my stuff down and kick off my shoes. Finally out of ways to avoid the conversation, I join him on the couch.

“How are you doing? Is your hip okay?” I ask him.

His eyes are flat and lifeless. I hate seeing him in pain, and I really hate being the reason for it.

---