“You got a bus to catch?” he mumbled, nibbling on my ear.
/> I laughed and dropped the phone, falling back into his arms. There was nowhere I wanted to be other than right here with him.
***
“What?” I finally asked.
We were sitting on floor of the balcony, drinking coffee. He hadn’t stopped staring at me and it was making me nervous.
“Tell me more about Pete,” he said.
I lay back, resting against him, and thought about my brother. Even after all this time, it still hurt. Seeing Sax interact with Stace made me sad because I knew I’d never get to experience that.
“He was three years younger than me. We had it pretty rough growing up, in and out of foster homes. When I was six and he was three Mom left us alone for three days while she went on a bender with her boyfriend at the time.” I wet my lips and shook my head. “The neighbor realized something was up when she found me crying, so she called the police, who called child services.”
“Shit, M,” he whispered, running his fingers through my hair.
I smiled at him and shrugged. “Most of the foster homes were okay. The worst that happened was the lack of the love you get—or expect to get—from a family.”
I ran my finger along the concrete floor below me. It was hard to explain it to someone who had never been through it.
“When you’re six, being dumped into a home with half a dozen other kids, having a roof over your head is about as good as it gets. Having your own bed to sleep in was a bonus. They kept Pete and me together, so we always had each other and I think that made it easier.”
“You don’t speak to your mom anymore?”
I shook my head. “Not since Pete’s funeral. She blamed me for his death.” I let out a shrill laugh. “Never mind the fact that she couldn’t keep her own kids out of foster care. I was fourteen. I was just a kid myself.”
“So on top of you blaming yourself for something that wasn’t your fault, your own mother blamed you. Fuck, M.” He kissed my head. Reaching down, he tenderly wiped away the tears that had formed.
“She was about to send me back into care. So I left. And I haven’t spoken to her since.”
His arms curled around me. Holding me close, he kissed my neck. “I hate that you’ve been through so much, M. I wish I could take away all the pain.”
“Pain is life. You can’t avoid it. It’s how you find the strength to go on that shapes you as a person. Without pain, you can’t live.” I shrugged.
He shook his head and let out a low whistle. “Are you sure you’re only twenty-one? Sometimes I feel you’ve lived more than I have.”
I chuckled, the irony of his comment not lost on me. “Somehow I doubt that’s possible. You’re the ex king of rock.”
“Wasn’t that Elvis?” he joked. “Seriously, though, you amaze me.” He hesitated, his gaze dropping downward as he swallowed hard. “I want to suggest something. I want you to think about it before you say no, because I really think it could help you.”
“What?” I asked nervously. My body tensed as I waited for him to continue.
“I think you should speak to Nate. As in sit down and really speak to him. I think it could help both of you.”
My eyes widened. Speak to Nate? I couldn’t do that. The pain was too raw. Just seeing him yesterday had almost broken me. What good would come from talking to him? I’d sat through every day of the court hearing. I’d heard his story and I’d looked him in the eye as I gave my victim’s statement and told him how badly his actions had hurt me.
“Just think about it, M. I think it could give you the closure you need.”
I nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
But I already knew the answer was going to be no.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Micah
Why had I agreed to this?