Page 44 of All Jacked Up

Seeing that she was at the police station had scared the shit out of me. I was ready to rip off heads when I stormed inside. Jones was sitting at the front, and he just pointed to Dayton’s door, wide-eyed, when I demanded to know where Noa Raines was. Dayton, however, was stupid enough to try and tell me I couldn’t be in there. He’d been trying to impress Noa, was my guess, and damn if that hadn’t pissed me off more.

Glancing at her, my eyes didn’t make it past her legs, which she’d crossed, causing her skirt to move up. Dammit. I’d wanted her here. Now she was here. What the hell was I going to do with her?

First, I was taking her to the funeral home. But then? This was too tempting. I had to remember why I wasn’t going to touchher.

“You didn’t text me about your mom,” I said, breaking the silence.

“No, I didn’t.”

I shot her a warning look, then turned my eyes back to the road. “Are you trying to be difficult?”

“I intended to tell you.”

“When? You’re in town. Didn’t you think I’d want to know?”

She let out a breathy laugh. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure. What were you going to do about it?”

Stopping at a red light, I turned my gaze back to hers. “Come get you from the airport so you didn’t have to rent a car, for starters. What did you think I’d do?”

Her shoulders lifted and fell. “Not that. I … I don’t know how to gauge our, uh, friendship. It’s always been texting. Not seeing or calling, and now we’ve done both. Did that change things?”

I understood what she was saying. We’d blurred the lines we’d had and not redefined them. My calling had only made it worse.

What would she do if she knew I watched her sleep and had two pairs of her dirty panties in my bedroom? Probably want to go back to the police station.

“Fair,” I replied. “Okay, so let’s redefine the lines. Before, we just texted. It wasn’t a normal situation, but it worked for us. Now, we’ve seen each other again in person, talked, and I’ve called you. Our friendship has deepened. It’s become an adult friendship from the one we started as teens. So, we evolve with it. From now on, if you need something, you call me. Don’t text. Call.”

The light changed, and I had to look away from her, but not before she nodded.

“Okay. So, we are friends in real life then. That’s what you’re saying. Not just text pen pals.”

I smirked. “You crack me up, using that as a description.”

“What? It was basically what we were.”

“I guess so,” I agreed.

The funeral home was up ahead, and we’d not even talked about her mom yet. She didn’t seem to be grieving, but people handled it differently.

“When did you get the call about your mom?”

She let out a heavy sigh. “At three thirty this morning.”

I took a quick peek at her. She was staring out the window.

“I’m sorry,” I told her.

She shook her head. “Don’t be. She did it to herself.” There was a bitterness in her tone. One that I hadn’t expected.

“Doesn’t make it easier.”

“That’s just it.” Her tone sounded sad. “I … I should be upset. Crying. I should feel something. But I don’t. And it’s not my fault. It’s hers. She never wanted me. I was a disappointment. We had no relationship.”

A disappointment? What the fuck?

“Shakespeare, you’re a best-selling author, and you’ve been published in twenty-five other countries. Most of those translated into other languages. How are you a disappointment?”

There was a moment of silence, and I wasn’t sure if she was going to answer me or not.

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