Page 18 of Reclaim

“Breathe. We’ll figure it out.”

“Will we, though? Because I don’t know if I’m ready to see you all the time. Out of sight, out of mind. I liked it that way.”

“I’m at your mercy here, Sash. I’m fine with you calling the shots on when, where, and how, but-”

“Dakota,” she cuts me off. “I know. Why else do you think I’m here?”

“I know it’s going to take me forever to make it up to her, but I at least want the fucking chance.”

“That’s why I’m here. I spoke to your solicitor.”

“And?” I raise my eyebrows expectantly, itching to hear what Emerson said and what made Sasha change her mind.

“She wanted to know if I was going to stop you from seeing Dakota and if I would take any legal action against you about it.”

“That’s all?”

“She’s pro-Jagger, that’s for sure.”

“It’s her job,” I smirk.

“I wanted to see you first. I don’t know what I expected to gain from it, but it made me feel in control of the situation.” Exhaling loudly, her breath still hitches from earlier. “I wanted to see you before I let you see her.”

“You don’t have to justify protecting her.”

“I know. I just thought it was fair to be honest with you. I can promise that we’ll work this out away from the courts, but I don’t know anything past that. I guess we can wait till you’re settled in and set something up?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We’re only just getting started.”

* * *

I’ve been pacing aroundin this room they call purgatory for hours, a little alcove between the entrance into the cells and the exit outside. The day is finally here, and my heart has been thrashing around my rib cage for hours. I can’t sit still. I can’t focus. I don’t think I’m ready.

The door opens, Thompson walking in holding a plastic bag.

I stop. “What are you doing in this part of town?”

“I come here bearing gifts.”

“Gifts?”

“Clothes. You’re not going to walk out of here wearing that.”

“Hm.” I look down and then back at the man who deserves angel wings for putting up with all of us in here. “I guess I didn’t think that through.”

“Get dressed. and then you’re ready.”

“I don’t think I am.”

He hands me the bag. “That’s the problem, son.” Standing in the doorway, he looks back at me. “Today, you don’t think. You just do.”

I push my legs through the jeans, overwhelmed by the scratch of denim on my skin. Pulling the zipper up, I button the waistband together, take a seat, and close my eyes. I’m about to have a meltdown over fucking jeans.

A knock on the door almost goes unnoticed, until I see locks of brown hair walking toward me. I stand up to meet Emerson, shocked at how much solace her presence gives me.

“Are you almost ready?” she asks. Frozen and unable to speak, I nod. Avoiding my eyes, she looks behind me, and finds the bag of clothes Thompson brought in. Stepping around, she grabs the navy and white checkered shirt and hands it to me. “Put this on over your t-shirt.”

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