Page 129 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

“Of course, yeah… I’m sorry, I’m Becca Sanger. Chase Adams gave me your number, said you helped him an awful lot and that I should call you if I needed someone to talk to.”

He chuckles. “I assumed your friend was Chase. I’d love to talk, Becca. Let me just pull up my availability.”

I’m not one-hundred percent confident that I’ll see this through. It’s embarrassing, admitting the things that I’ve let affect my decisions. The ways I’ve fallen for my family’s lies and let them lead me around on a leash. It’s shameful admitting out loud that I’m twenty-six years old and have never lived an independent day in my entire life.

“My earliest time is this Tuesday at two. Does that work for you?”

Panic seizes my throat when I think about having to talk to him face to face. “You know, I don’t—I’m not sure when I’m free to drive to Nashville. Maybe I should figure that out first and call you back.”

“Oh? Would a phone session work better for you?”

“A what?” I scrunch my nose.

“A phone session. I’ll call at our dedicated time and we can talk, just like this.”

“Oh, you can do that?”

“I can. There’s no pressure either way, Becca. I’m here for you, not the other way around.”

I nod even though he can’t see.

I like that he can’t see. It’s knowing that I won’t have to look him in the eyes as I spew all my

secrets that has me agreeing to a Tuesday meeting.

Hanging up the phone, I blow out a relieved breath.

Then I’m back to staring at that ugly owl. Only this time, the eyes don’t bother me quite as much.

“So you called him?” Lee asks, sitting across from me on the couch, her hand on Chase’s knee.

I nod, sipping from my water. “Yep.”

Chase sits up straighter. “Good. Doc’s fucking great.”

“Well, if he can help with your shit, he should be able to handle a tortured preacher’s daughter, no problem.” I smile big and wide.

“Yeah, speakin’ of your daddy,” Lee says. “I saw them at the store the other day and they stopped me to ask about you.” She cocks her head. “I didn’t know you weren’t speakin’.”

I sigh, my gut rolling at the audacity of them to ask about me when they won’t even pick up the phone. It’s not like Sugarlake is a big town, if they wanted to find me, they know where I live.

The doorbell rings, interrupting our conversation, and Chase hops up, disappearing down the hall.

“Expectin’ someone?” I ask Lee.

She grimaces. “Yeah, I didn’t know how to tell you he was comin’.”

My stomach jumps. “Who is he?”

“Eli.”

The blood in my veins surge, rushing to my cheeks, my breath whooshing out of me. I’m surprised at the fact she would invite both of us to dinner. I’m also surprised she invited him at all. Last I knew, they weren’t on good terms, and it makes sadness weigh down my heart when I realize she hasn’t felt like she could share with me. Or maybe she just hasn’t wanted to. I wonder when we’ll get back to the way we used to be, before I ruined her trust.

She says things are okay, but I know just because you forgive doesn’t mean you can forget. Even severed limbs ache with phantom pains.

I haven’t seen Eli since he fucked me against the bleachers, and that was almost two weeks ago, so when his laughter floats into the room it sends heat swimming through my insides, my nerves dancing off the waves.

Chase walks through the door first but my eyes go straight to the man behind him.

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