Anson swallowed around the lump in his throat.
“What is it?” Miles asked.
“She has examples of financial and emotional abuse and they . . . they don’t seem generic.”
“What are you saying?” Miles asked.
Anson thought about showing it to his best friend. Miles was the sheriff. He’d have seen and heard worse. But this seemed personal.
“It’s like she knows something about that sort of abuse. As though they are things that might have happened to her,” Joey said. “But she could have done some good research. She might have talked to other people who had experienced that sort of abuse.”
Joey was right. That could be the case.
But he just knew that it wasn’t.
“She was always apologizing,” he said. “Even when she did nothing wrong. Always worried about me getting mad at her for doing something wrong. Fuck, how did I not see it?”
“You can’t know for sure,” Miles told him.
He did know it, though. He could feel it deep inside. Some asshole had abused her.
“Her ex,” he said. “She said that she’d had a messy break-up. She told me that when she was trying to reassure me that she didn’t want a relationship.”
Right before he’d fucked her. And then kicked her out.
God. What a fucking asshole he was.
“I was an asshole to a woman who did nothing but try to help me,” he said hoarsely. “A woman who was in an abusive relationship before she came here. And I kicked her out and told her to never come back. Told her that I never wanted to see or hear from her again.”
Why did he do that? Why hadn’t he given her a chance to explain herself?
“I was so eager to find a reason to get rid of her. I was just waiting for her to fail because she seemed too perfect. And when I found it, it felt like a relief, almost. Because there had to be something wrong with her. So I jumped on it without questioning it. Fuck. I’m the worst kind of person. Even more of an asshole than Lochlan.”
“So we find her and you apologize,” Joey said, pacing back and forth. “Have you got any idea where she might have gone? We could call her.”
“I don’t have it.”
“What?” Miles asked. “You don’t have her phone number?”
“Why would I have needed it?” he asked grouchily. “She was staying here and when I kicked her out I didn’t exactly ask for her phone number.”
“Fine. Then do you have any idea of where she was going?” Joey asked.
“If you want to find her, that is,” Miles added.
“You do, don’t you?” Joey asked. “She was perfect for you. Sweet and kind and caring. She didn’t betray you.”
No, it seemed like she hadn’t.
But maybe he should just let her go.
“She could find someone better,” he muttered.
Fuck it felt wrong to say that, though. Because he didn’t want her with someone else.
He wanted her with him.
She’d only been gone a day and he already missed her so much that it hurt. It was a deep ache inside him, an itch that he couldn’t get rid of. That grew with every moment that passed without her here.