Page 136 of Cherry Beats

Molly lowered the magazine into her lap as she looked up at me.

“Your phone’s buzzing again.”

I slowly turned to look at it on the arm of my sofa, blinking as I watched Presley’s name light up the screen before I turned away and focused on the television up ahead.

Molly’s sigh was intentional, designed to tell me I was being a fucking idiot, and she only had so much patience left.

Dicky had called repeatedly. Julia, too. A few numbers I didn’t recognise tried to get through, and even though it would have been easier for me to knock the phone off, I didn’t. Bourbon liked to call me while I lay in bed at night, his voice familiar and honest, friendly and warm as he spoke about his daughter and all the adventures they were planning together. I appreciated his efforts. I appreciated him.

“You know he’s just going to show up here soon, knocking on your door,” Molly said, matter-of-factly.

“He can’t. He’s got a tight tour schedule.”

“You think that matters to a guy like him?”

“I think it matters more than I realised.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve truly fallen for this bullshit that bitch spun to the world.”

On that, I hadn’t decided yet.

It’s easy to believe something you already think is true, deep down in your heart. It never made sense for him to want me the way he did. Was that the insecure little girl talking? Probably. But it was true. I knew I wasn’t ugly, and I knew I could hold my own, but I was a small-town girl with the blinkers on in her life. He was a man of experience. Someone who knew what he wanted. Dragging me along for the ride was always going to be a chore, and maybe now, without realising it, I’d relieved him of duty at the first chance I got, and that was what I was always going to do.

“For the record, I—”

“... think I’m insane. Yeah. I get it. You’ve been quite vocal.”

Molly sighed again, her patience wearing thin. I’d phoned her and Bourbon from the airport in Barcelona, breathless and angry as the two of them talked me through what to do step-by-step.

Get on the next flight home.

Stay calm.

Don’t panic.

Meet them at the airport.

I’d done it, all while hiding behind black shades and a dark cap likeIwas the celebrity all of a sudden. The moment I’d jumped into the back of Bourbon’s car and seen their sympathetic faces smiling pitifully at me, I broke down, the tears and stresses of everything pouring free. I’d told them how I’d run. Just fucking run like a scared little girl—because wasn’t that what I was?

And that’s where the sympathy ended.

Molly couldn’t believe I hadn’t given him a chance to speak. Bourbon didn’t say much, but I could tell he thought I’d fucked up, too. He was simply choosing to let me fuck up without calling me a stupid idiot every two seconds, unlike Mol.

The phone rang beside me again, and I saw my mother trying to call. She could get lost. They all could. Everyone who’d ever silenced me, betrayed me, and turned me into something I wasn’t could stay the hell away. I’d told her so in a text message the day before, too, only to be texted straight back by my father who asked who the hell I thought I was, and couldn’t I see how selfish I was being—the lack of respect I was showing?

Neither one of them told me they supported me or were on my side. My brother Freddie never phoned to apologise, either.

It seemed like the whole world was out to get me apart from Bourbon and Molly, and right now, tucked away in a space that was mine and mine alone, they were the only ones I trusted.

When my phone pinged again, I growled out in annoyance, threw my hand to the screen and swiped to access the message.

Presley:Uncle Dex is on his way. Answer your door to him. After that, I’ll never ask anything of you again. Not unless you tell me I can.

Presley:I hope you’re safe, Tess.

Presley:I miss you.

I sucked in a breath, my fingers hovering over the buttons to respond as the memory of his touch and voice floated over my body, his ghost pulling me under. That’s how much power he had.

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