The Summer of Us (Mission Cove 1) - Page 35

It was the break in his voice, the catch, that hit me. He sounded as if he was in the same agony I was sinking into.

“I want the truth.”

“I swear I’ll give it to you. I’ll tell you everything about Abigail Price.” He smiled sadly. “It’s only fair. She knows everything about you.”

I sat up, roughly rubbing my hands over my face. I missed the gentle swipe of his fingers, but I needed the distance.

“How?” I asked. “How does she know about me?”

He regarded me in silence. “We were both sent to that place by our families. She was one of the few females there. We became close friends.” He emphasized that word. “Just friends. When I finally left and got my hands on my money, I got her out. She’s been my right-hand ever since.”

I frowned. She was his business associate?

“I have Abby’s permission to tell you about her past, Sunny. As long as you promise to listen, I’ll tell you.”

I shivered, shifting closer to the dying fire. Linc cursed and pulled off his jacket, draping it around my shoulders. Then, as if he had only done it yesterday and not ten years ago, he reached behind him and grabbed more wood, adding it to the fire. He poked at the burning wood until he was satisfied with the flames.

“Will you listen?” he asked, sitting back beside me.

I thought of the endless hours of conversations that had happened in this spot. The plans we made, the dreams we shared. The years I spent sitting here, alone, always wondering, always wishing for another night of him here beside me. Then the broken hitch to his voice echoed in my head, and I knew I had to try.

“Yes, Linc. I’ll listen.”11LincWhen I couldn’t find Sunny at her apartment, I sat in my car, swearing under my breath. I cursed Abby’s mother. I wished death—a long, slow one—on Carl. On both of them. I called the lawyer I kept on retainer for anything to do with Abby and filled him in on the situation.

“Get his parole revoked, Milo. Put a tail on him. Keep him the hell away from Abby. Her mother too.”

“On it.” He hung up.

Then I calmed myself, centering my thoughts the way I had learned, and concentrated on finding Sunny.

The cliff—the place Sunny and I used to hide—came to mind. I had purposely never developed the land around that area, even though I owned all of it. I had never planned on going there again, but I wanted to know that somehow, some small part of us still existed.

Would she go there?

There was only one way to find out.

I started the car and headed toward that end of town.I was relieved to have found her, grateful she agreed to listen to me, and cursed myself for not thinking of bringing an extra jacket or a blanket. Her tears gutted me, and I wanted to hold her, but I knew she didn’t want that. I had to wait until she heard my story.

I stared out over the dark water, feeling the heat of the flames at my feet. My shirt didn’t offer me much protection from the cold, but with Sunny beside me, I was fine. I was happier knowing she was warm and protected. I gathered my thoughts, then spoke.

“Abby arrived one day about six months after I had been sent to Toblacove.”

“That was the town?”

“No, the name of the”—I held up my fingers in quotations— “‘establishment’ where I was held. It was really a prison—a place rich people sent their kids they gave up on and washed their hands of. They spoke of rehabilitation, but it was a holding cell, to be honest. We were fed, sheltered, and ‘taught,’ for lack of a better word. If you call grueling workouts, constant lectures on what ungrateful people we were, military-type discipline ‘teaching.’”

“Oh, Linc,” she whispered.

I kept talking. “The institution, because that is what it really was, was outside a small village.” I frowned as memories hit me. “No one spoke a word of English outside the compound, and very few of the, ah, students, as we were referred to, were allowed to go to the village. Some who had been there for a long time, or had proven their trustworthiness, were allowed a day every month or so. Never announced, so no plans could be made. I was never allowed, as per my father’s instructions. No matter what age you went in at—you didn’t leave until you were nineteen, unless your parents got you.” I paused. “That rarely happened. We were sent there and forgotten about.”

“Oh.” Sunny made a low noise in the back of her throat. “Were there a lot of girls?”

“No. Very few and they mostly kept to themselves. Everyone did. Friendships were not encouraged. The rest of us kept our interactions to a minimum so not to draw notice. We did as we were told. Studies, gym, chores, meals. There was very little free time.”

Tags: Melanie Moreland Mission Cove Romance
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