“Yes.” She gives him that evil smile everyone finds endearing. “I bet I could work out autographs, backstage passes, whatever if you could maybe just...give a girl a second chance?”
Her cluelessness grates on my ears.
The cop leans over and whispers to his partner, “The tabloids were right. She’s a loon.”
“Get them in custody,” the man in charge growls. “Read them their rights while we start searching. I don’t want any reason for these poor little celebrities to get off on procedural slips.”
Carmen spits at me, but misses and hits a cop.
He wipes his face and glares at her before grabbing her hands and cuffing her.
“Sorry, sorry, it was for him!” she howls, flopping down on the floor, whimpering. “You hate me so much you’d destroy us both just to get me?”
“I didn’t hate you until tonight,” I say quietly. “I wanted you out of my life. If this makes that happen, so be it.”
Carmen sobs harder. I think the shriveled lump of coal in her chest finally breaks.
“It...it wasn’t supposed to be like this, Nick.”
The guy she spat on meets my gaze. “Is she high?”
“I don’t know. When I came home she was holding a half-empty bag of cocaine, but she was pouring it out. I don’t think she snorted any.”
Another cop cuffs me. It’s as humiliating as you can imagine, being overpowered and locked up.
Somehow, it doesn’t matter.
As long as Reese is okay, nothing else does.
The young blond guy kneels beside Carmen, clearly the softie. “I’m gonna help you up, ma’am, all right? We’ll get you in a good rehab program and—”
“I’m not a junkie!” She interrupts, twisting on the floor and kicking her legs.
My Miranda rights warning goes in one ear and out the other as they lead me downstairs to the patrol car.
I sink into the back seat of a police cruiser for the first time in my life with a few things running through my mind.
Roland Osprey knows to pull the police report. I almost involved Reese and Millie in a gut-wrenching story that’s sure to trend.
I barely dodged a fucking bullet.
If Reese was still with me when shit went down—when Carmen was smearing cocaine all over my condo and launching herself at me like a feral dog—Millie could’ve wound up in the system.
The one thing her aunt worked so hard to prevent.
I nearly sent them straight to hell.
All because destroying myself is the only way to outrun my past.
“Idiot,” I mutter.
If it weren’t for the handcuffs, I’d be burying my face in my hands, fingers digging in my eyes until I see stars.
Then there’s Ward. He’ll leave his wife at home tonight, drive across town, post bail, and rip me at least five new assholes. He’ll believe a story that everyone else will always doubt, even if the facts check out.
“They weren’t my drugs. I stole them from my girlfriend’s sister’s ex as evidence trying to get him locked up so he didn’t use custody of my girlfriend’s niece as leverage.”
Fuck. See how absurd it sounds?
I barely believe it myself, and I lived it.
Ward might give me the benefit of the doubt the first time I explain it. He’ll make damn sure Abby and Sutton confirm every word. He’ll also do his best to make sure I’m out and sleeping in my own bed by tomorrow night.
And tomorrow, my poor brother will not only be the son of accused murderers, but he’ll also be the brother of a hopeless druggie in the media’s eyes.
I hate it.
Sure, Ward will still be the white sheep. The responsible one. Just with one more less-than-savory relation, thanks to yours truly.
Sooner or later, Grandma will also know how hard I fucked up. If she knows the truth, she’ll get it, but I can’t let the news get a chance to give her another heart catastrophe. I have to tell her before she reads some garbage half-truth online.
But Carmen will back off now.
Abby will go free.
Reese and Millie can live their lives, free from being swallowed up in my quicksand.
I just have to live with knowing I’ve hurt everyone to achieve it.
“You’re breathing pretty hard back there, buddy. You okay?” the officer asks.
“I’m fine,” I grind out, taking a searing breath.
It’ll be hours before I’m able to relax, and years before I can make peace with this bullshit.
Still, it worked.
Through all the agony, the pain, the bad decisions, and the sins, my sacrifice did it.
And its price reveals one glaring truth that hasn’t changed tonight, or ever—how much I’ll always love Reese Halle.
27
Big News (Reese)
“Why can’t Quick Nick come?” Millie demands from the back seat.
I hold in a horrified sob.
Because apparently he’s playing games I barely understand with his snake of an ex-girlfriend, and they involve cops.
How the hell do I know?
It has been a day. I just need five minutes of quiet time to process it. But as every parent knows who’s gone through major stress with kids, I ought to just ask for a winning lotto ticket while I’m at it.