Say It Ain't So (SWAT Generation 2.0 9)

I hadn’t realized that Sierra and my biker were related in any way until I’d told my sister my biker’s last name a few weeks ago.

Now, I wanted to be very, very careful about what Sierra did and didn’t hear.

“Umm,” I said. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. But, thank you anyway.”

Sierra was in the NICU now. And though she didn’t work on the OB floor or anything, she did work with a lot of the OB doctors that were checking up on their littlest patients.

That’d been what I wanted to do when I’d first started out in nursing school.

Not that I ever would’ve gone that far.

I highly doubted that a job would’ve liked the fact that I screamed out ‘fuck’ at the top of my lungs when we were trying to save a baby’s life. Or something to that effect got my heart rate elevated.

“If you change your mind, let me know. I won’t let on that it’s you.” She paused. “But after stalking Sierra’s profile, I did find out a few things.”

I felt my belly tighten. “What kind of things?”

I could practically hear her wince over the telephone.

“That Sierra and Sammy aren’t just related, they’re brother and sister related,” she said.

I knew what she meant, even though those two things were the exact same thing.

I hadn’t contemplated them being brother and sister.

Grimacing, I walked to the window that was next to the door and peered out through the blinds.

The girl’s car was nowhere to be seen.

I hadn’t heard it crank up.

“That’s great.” I sighed. “Please be careful about what you post about on social media.”

My sister was a tad bit obsessive when it came to social media. Everybody knew everything when it came to her life.

“I will, I promise.” She paused. “And you’re one to talk. I saw all those updates and crap you did while you were ignoring us.”

“Yes, because that’s my job. I couldn’t just take a month off and ignore it. I still have a job that I need to do, and social media is a part of that,” I countered.

Part of my job was to be active in the online community. That meant updating my status, sharing excerpts, and ultimately being accessible to all the people that had questions for me. I didn’t have the luxury of dropping out of my work life for a month like I did my personal life.

“Whatever,” she teased. “I’ll see you Friday, right?”

I smiled then.

I’d missed my sister like crazy, and I actually was pretty excited about seeing them.

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll be there.”

After a few girlish squeals from my sister, we hung up, and I stared at my phone.

I wiped my hand down my face and then buckled down and took the first step.

I pulled my text app up and took a deep breath.

Me: Here’s me, making the first move.

I waited an hour before I sent another text.

Me: Are you there?

I waited another thirty minutes before I sent one more text.

Me: I want to see you again.

There was no response.

I’d tried to tell myself that it was just him driving that was the reason that he didn’t answer.

That he would answer by morning.

Only, there was no answer by morning, either.

***

“What do I do?” I asked Suzanne over the phone.

“Send him another text message,” she urged. “He wouldn’t have said he wanted you to text if he didn’t want to. Hell, if I wanted to avoid you, I wouldn’t have given you my number at all. I would’ve ignored the fuck out of you.”

I snorted.

But, sadly, Suzanne was correct. If he didn’t want me to talk to him, he would have said so, right?

“All right,” I sighed. “Good luck with the driver’s education class you’re taking your son to. I have to get to work. Expect to have the book sent to you by the end of the week. If you don’t get it, remind me that I said I’d send it to you.”

My just-finished manuscript went to my mom and another beta reader that I adored. But once I got it back from both of them, my best friend destroyed it for me, building it into something better.

My book was at the ‘ready to be destroyed’ phase.

“Will do. Wish me luck.” She paused. “Fuck.”

I laughed. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she sing-songed as she hung up.

Once again, I was left staring at the phone, wondering what the hell I should do.

In the end, I decided to suck it up and send another text.

I waited until the next day at noon to send the next message.

Me: Hey, just checking in.

Samuel Adams: Stop texting me.

I stiffened.

Me: I’m sorry. I thought you said to text.

Samuel Adams: I asked you to stop texting me. And I meant it.

I frowned hard and dropped my phone into my lap.

Well fine.

If he wanted me to stop calling and texting him, then I’d do it.