Allison, I wonder?
It’s a question for later, not now. “I’ve tried to reach her as well,” I say. “That’s why I worry we need to talk to Jack.”
“We’ll have Jack reach out to her.”
“Thank you, Dash. I’m sure my worries for Allison are unfounded, but I can’t say they don’t exist anymore. They do.”
“She left, Allie. Just like you left publishing. Everything different isn’t bad.”
He’s right, of course. Logically I know this, but my gut isn’t about logic. It’s about something that cannot be seen or spoken. It’s just there, demanding attention. Needing to hear something to shut it up I say, “And you think that was better for her.” It’s not really a question considering his obvious feelings, and yet, I need an answer.
His cellphone rings and his lips press together. “Almost as if the universe doesn’t want me to go there.” He snakes his phone from his pocket. “My sister.”
“She probably heard there was an issue at the bar.”
“Or Tyler called her.”
“He didn’t. He told me you wouldn’t want him to call her.”
His lips press together, his eyes shuttering, as he answers his phone, turning away from me as he does. And I fear that is exactly where we are headed—me standing right in front of him and him turning away.
CHAPTER THREE
The idea that Allison was here, rather than someone else, settles into my gut and wants to hang out, but it’s also far more appealing an idea than an intruder.
As I watch Jack and a group of officers investigate my break-in, I decide Dash was right about leaving the necklace out of tonight’s equation. I mean technically, it feels a bit like I’m the one who stole it, and the more that idea takes root, the more awkward and wrong it feels. I have to do something to return the necklace to the sender and pretty darn quickly.
When all that can be done in the wee hours of the morning has been done, Jack gives us one last update, and then he’s gone. Dash loads my bags into his trunk and then helps me into the passenger side of the M4, kneeling beside me as he does. He reaches over me, his body warm, as he slides my belt into place. “I was already on my way to see you when you called.” His fingers brush my jaw. “And thank fuck I was. You have no idea how freaked out I was when your call dropped.”
“And you have no idea how relieved I was to hear your voice.” I touch his face.
A mix of heat and emotion pulses between us, seconds ticking by, but there’s nothing more to say. Not now. Not like this. Maybe not even tonight or should I say, this morning? There have been too many harsh words, too many words laden with booze, too many, so many.
Dash pushes to his feet and seals me inside the car. A minute later, he slides into the car beside me and I’m still reeling from his words. He was on his way to me when I called. I guess on some level I knew this. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have made it to me so quickly after the phone call, but hearing him say it, hits me in a whole different way. Despite everything that happened tonight, first, he’s concerned I was really in danger tonight, and I wonder what he knows that I don’t know, but even more so, I needed Dash and he was here for me. For now, that’s where I want to root myself, where I want to root us and with good reason. My mind goes to him in that ring, allowing that man to beat on him, even daring him to hurt him. I squeeze my eyes shut with the visual, the horrible visual.
Dash needs me, too, I think.
He says he should never have left me tonight. I should never have left him.
We are, without any doubt, two messed up people, both of us spiraling out of control, in our own way. The question becomes, do we land more gently together, or do we accelerate the inevitable crash and burn? I don’t know the answer, but he wasn’t better without me tonight and I wasn’t better without him either. I sink down lower into my seat, settling into the idea of what is right tonight, me here with Dash. The warm heat of the car and the lethargy of too much booze and not enough sleep are ever-present, but I fight the heaviness of my lashes, rotating to my side to face Dash.
He glances over at me and catches my hand, and it feels like everything that was wrong is right. That’s the lie I tell myself, but it’s a good lie. One I’d like to pretend isn’t a lie for the rest of the night. Just tonight. That’s all I want. And I think it’s what Dash wants as well. Tomorrow is another day, one we will face with a bright light that will scorch us with the burn of reality. But that’s then. And this is now.