Page 47 of Too Late

My heart is deflating, just like her hope is about to. If she only knew how much I wish I could do that. I start to shake my head and she moves her hands from my arms to my cheeks. A huge tear spills out of her eye. “Carter,please. You don’t owe him anything. You can get out. We both can. Right now.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and roll my forehead to the side of her head. My lips are directly over her ear when I whisper, “It’s not that easy, Sloan.”

If it were all up to Luke, and Carter didn’t have to exist, we’d be halfway across the state already. But if I took her tonight … if we just ran away and I abandoned Ryan in the middle of all this … it would compromise the entire investigation. It would make Asa even more dangerous. And I’d be letting down a whole fucking lot of people, not to mention giving up my entire career. I wouldn’t even have a way to support her.

“I want to get you out of here, Sloan,” I whisper. “I just can’t leave yet. I can’t explain why and I don’t know when I can, but I will. I promise. I swear.”

I press my lips to the side of her head, just as she starts to cry. And as much as I’d give to hold her in my arms until her devastation passes, I can’t. Every second I’m in this room with her is another second I’m risking her life.

I press my mouth to hers once more and then pull away from her. She lets her head fall back against the wall and she’s so much sadder in this moment than when I even walked inside the room to begin with.

She’s still gripping my wrist as I try to walk away. When she refuses to let go, I lift her fingers from around my wrist, releasing her. I watch as her arm falls limp to her side. Having to walk away from her like this is nothing short of devastating.

It’s tragic.

And that’s where love finds you … in the tragedies.

TWENTY-NINE

SLOAN

I’ve never missed a single Sunday visiting my brother. And even though I’ve been in bed since Carter walked away Friday night, pretending to be sick, I somehow pulled myself out of my slump today.

Asa and all his friends went to the casino. It’s about a three-hour drive north, and my brother is an hour drive south. It’s sad, but I feel like the more distance I put between Asa and myself today, the better I’ll feel. The more I’ll be able to breathe.

Right before I walk out of my bedroom, I pause in the doorway. I reach to my left hand and slip off the ring, setting it on the dresser. I’ll be home way before Asa gets back, so he won’t notice I didn’t wear it today.

But my hand will feel a million pounds lighter.

I stop in the kitchen to make myself a drink for the road. When I reach for the freezer to grab ice, my hand tightens around the door handle. My eyes fall to the new words written on the dry-erase board.

Pickles don’t feel guilty when people yodel, so why aren’t the sheets ever folded on Tuesday?

I have no idea when Carter wrote this, but I know he wrote it to try to make me feel better about the way he had to leave Friday night. He wrote it to try to make me laugh.

It works, because I’m smiling for the first time in two days when I open the freezer.

I fill my cup with ice and soda, then grab an extra soda for Stephen. They don’t let him keep sodas in his room due to his health restrictions, so I always sneak him an extra one on Sundays as a treat. With his doctor’s permission, of course. I just don’t tell Stephen that.

I grab my purse, my keys, and the drinks and start to head for the door when I receive an incoming text. I wait until I’m at my car to pull my phone out of my purse and read it.

CARTER: Pick me up on the corner of Standard and Wyatt. I want to go with you.

My cheeks heat up at the unexpected text. I thought he was with Asa and the guys today. I start to text him back, but another text comes through.

CARTER: Also, never respond to my texts. And delete both of these.

I do what he requests and then I back out of my driveway and head to the corner of Standard and Wyatt. It’s only a few streets down, and I know he wants me to pick him up there because it’s safer than leaving his car in the driveway. But I’m still confused as to how he knew I was even going anywhere.

I’m filled with anticipation as I search for him. When I round the corner of Standard, he’s right where he said he’d be, standing alone on the curb, hands shoved in the back pockets of his jeans. He smiles when he sees me and it hurts. And feels incredible. When I come to a stop, he opens the door and climbs inside the car.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Going with you to visit your brother.”

“But … how? How did you get out of gambling? And how did you even know when I was leaving?”

He smiles at me and then leans across the seat and wraps his hand in my hair. He rests his lips against mine and says, “I have my ways.” He kisses me and then moves back to his side of the seat. He pulls on his seatbelt. “If you think it’s too risky for me to go inside the building with you, I don’t mind waiting in the car. I just really needed some time alone with you.”

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