Page 86 of The Trust We Broke
But I don’t want to listen. “Maybe the years and the pain and the silence between us has been a part of our case all along.”
“It’s mostly of my making.”
I shake my head. “Let’s keep the blame for this where it belongs. It belongs on Justin Loeb and hands he couldn’t keep to himself. On your father, who used my defense of you as a reason to split us up. On the man who imitated me and beat Justin Loeb that evening. On the fucking judge who didn’t pay attention to the evidence or suggested timelines and let your father set the terms of my imprisonment.”
Yeah. It feels better to keep my anger at those who deserve it. Not Lucy.
I don’t tell her about Wes Granger, yet. I will. But this conversation is too important to deviate from.
“So, what’s your verdict?” Lucy asks.
“I’m the jury?”
She nods. “It only seems fair. I caused our ending. I want you to choose if this is the final chapter or the start of the second act.”
25
LUCY
“Fuck, yes, I want part two,” Grudge says, and cups my cheeks before delivering a kiss I feel all the way to my boots.
Snow falls around us like it was waiting for our lips to meet. Fat flakes drift down, slow, at first, getting heavier and faster until I can feel them settle on my cheek. Of course, it would snow heavily on the day I cracked my heart wide open in front of him. The universe was always a little too poetic for my own taste.
Usually, I feel the cold severely. But right now, bundled in Zach’s arms, I’m insulated from it. Heck, I’m insulated from everything.
From my father. From Henry. From their affairs.
“Shit,” Grudge says suddenly. He rubs a thumb across my cheek, removing the snowflake. “You’re gonna get cold.”
“Just kiss me again,” I say. And he does. Everything about it is warm and familiar. He still smells the same. Motor oil. Cedar soap. And something earthy that no cologne could ever fake.
He puts me on my feet. “C’mon. The truck’s warm.”
We run, laughing, down the trail to the truck, and I’m almost there when I slip on an icy patch near the back tire. Grudgecatches me and presses me bodily against the door for a second too long.
“Still got it,” he says with a smirk.
“You dropped me on our wedding night,” I say.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Barely. You were drunk. And wriggling. And had some wild notion of going skinny dipping in this exact spot.”
I hear the locks pop on the truck, and Grudge opens the door to the back seat of the cab. He lifts me up and practically tosses me into the back. Then, he runs to the driver’s door, opens it and climbs inside.
“Why am I back here and you’re up there?”
He glances up into the rearview mirror and catches my eye. “Just wait and see.”
The truck rumbles to life beneath me, and cool air escapes the vents. “Oof, it’s cold.”
“You gotta give it a moment to warm up.” The truck starts to move.
“What about my truck?”
“We’re not going far, just a few seconds farther off the trail.”
He pulls the truck into a more obscured parking spot, removes his weapon from its holster and puts it on the front seat, then jumps out of the truck and joins me in the back.
“You know what this needs, Lucy De Bose?”
