Page 77 of Renegade

I instantly saw an image of him holding himself up above me—his face fixed in concentration. It was enough to leave me breathless.

“You’re killing me. That’s all I get? Phenomenal?”

I nodded with a patient smile. “If I say anymore, I’m afraid you’ll spontaneously combust in your chair!”

“How am I going to make it through the next thirty-one weeks of pregnancy if I’m in this constant state of arousal?”

“You’ll be rubbing up against strangers on the street!” God knew I would if I had to give up sex. Now that I’d experienced it, I couldn’t imagine living without it.

“You laugh now, Lauren. You won’t be laughing when I move my chair over right next to you at work and hump your leg!”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

She kicked off her shoes and stretched her feet out on the carpet with a sigh. Our spat was already a distant spot on the horizon, but I was still feeling conflicted.

“Elizabeth? Can I ask for some advice?”

She frowned. “If it’s about relationships, I’m not so sure that I’m the girl to ask.”

I shook my head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just—if your mom was an addict and had ignored you for most of your life, but had suddenly gotten sober in the last few months and wanted to see you, would you do it?” The words came out in a rush and I could see her head practically spinning as she took it all in.

It had been nagging at me since Monica had shown up in the parking lot, trying to pay me off. I didn’t owe her a thing, but a small part of me felt like I should still meet her.

She mulled my words over. “Was she abusive to you?”

“No—she was neglectful and well, she stole from me when she was using.” It was hard. Hearing the words out loud made it obvious that my answer to meeting her should’ve been a resounding no.

“Yes—I think you should go and at least hear her out. No commitments, but just go in with an open mind.”

What the hell?

Given her frosty relationship with her own mother, I’d expected her to tell me that meeting with Monica was insanity. “Really?” I pushed. “Just meet with her?”

She shrugged, “I mean, I wouldn’t go into it with any expectations, but what’s the harm?”

I nodded brightly, while a war waged in my mind.The harm?Giving Monica any foothold into my life. The last time had cost me my car and knowing she was deep in a world of bikers had me concerned that the stakes would be much higher this time around.

Two weeks later and I was still just as conflicted as I’d been that night at Elizabeth’s. I smoothed my skirt and picked apart my manicure while checking the front door atPerked Upevery few seconds.

The sick feeling of dread in my gut had been present since I woke up.

So, she’d sobered up. Big deal. It didn’t mean we’d have anything in common. We’d both hit rock bottom, but in my mind, I was the only one who’d found a way to crawl out.

The door dinged and my head jerked up involuntarily. It wasn’t her. Maybe she wasn’t coming. The woman who walked in slung her Louis Vuitton over her shoulder and scanned the menu easily. I studied her, trying to place where I’d seen her before.

She turned as if she felt my gaze and took her sunglasses off. “You want something, Lauren?”

Monica?

My eyes went wide. “You? You don’t look like you!”

Lauren, you can’t just tell people they don’t look like themselves.

The barista gave me a strange look while Monica shrugged it off and paid for her latte. She set her purse down lovingly on the empty chair next to me before choosing the one across from me for herself. “Didn’t recognize me, did you?” She grinned and I was taken aback by her brilliantly white veneers.She hadn’t looked like that when I saw her at the hospital.In the bright light of day, I could’ve passed her on the street and never known it.

My mouth still agape, I shook my head. “How? When? How?”

She picked up her own coffee, mimicking my stance. “I— I met Torch and he helped me get clean. I had hit my absolute rock bottom when he stepped in. One thing led to another, and well, here I am. Clean and sober for the first time in a long time.”

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