“All right.” I push back from the table. “Leave a number where I can reach you on my desk before you go. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can talk more about what to do over the phone.”
“Where are you going?” she asks, her eyes going wide as I stand.
“I’m going to find Faith and apologize for ruining her Valentine’s Day.”
“What about me?” Her hands tighten around her cup until her fingertips go white. “What about ruining my life?”
I shake my head. “You’re in charge of your life. Not me. If it isn’t going the way you’d like, I suggest you take a look in the mirror and make a few changes in the way you handle yourself.”
Her nostrils flare. “So, this is all my fault? I got pregnant all on my own, is that it? I guess you are going to ask for a paternity test and add insult to the rest of your abuse.”
“As long as the baby’s born in the right time frame, I don’t need a test. I know you were too busy making my life miserable to sleep with anyone else while we were together.” I turn toward the door, ignoring Bridget’s outraged huff.
She was the abusive party in our relationship, but she’ll never admit it. She’s determined to play the victim and keep right on blaming everyone else for her problems.
“Come back here, Mick,” she calls, the words followed by a loud thump I assume is her fist hitting the table, but I don’t turn back to check.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Feel free to let yourself out.” I step onto the landing and start down the stairs, ignoring Bridget’s cry for me to wait.
I’m done waiting, and I’m not about to let Bridget or anyone else keep me from making things right with Faith.
Chapter Twenty
Faith
I haven’t cried in public in years, not since I was fifteen and rolled a four-wheeler on my uncle’s property, breaking my arm in two places when I smashed into a fallen tree.
And even then, I only cried for a few minutes, determined to pull myself together before my cousins came back with help, to prove I was tougher than the other girls and could absolutely hang with the guys for the rest of the summer.
The fact that there are tears in my eyes as I hurry across the street to the firehouse is enough to send a tsunami of shame sweeping through my insides.
Pull yourself together, Miller. Get a grip!
But I can’t seem to pull myself together.
The harder I try, the faster the tears fall. By the time I reach my truck, I’m a soppy, snotty mess and shaking so hard I drop my keys on the concrete not once, but twice, before I finally manage to shove the key in the door.
I’m so miserable, I don’t hear anyone calling my name or even realize someone’s close until a big, warm hand settles on my back.
“Whatthefuck,” I exhale in a rush as I spin around, knocking the hand away and instinctively preparing to defend myself.
“Easy, killer. Just saying hello.” Jamison backs away with his hands raised, his laughter fading as he gets a better look at my face. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I swipe the sleeve of my sweater across my face, mopping up some of the mess, wishing I’d made my escape before anyone saw what a wreck I am.
“Is it Whitehouse? Did he do something?” Jamison’s scowl deepens. “Because if he did, I’m prepared to go teach him some manners. I tried to warn Maddie that the two of you were moving too fast, but she wouldn’t—”
“Mick didn’t do anything,” I cut in, propping my hands on my hips. “And if he had, I would take care of him myself. I know I’ve needed help with Mama sometimes, but that’s an extreme situation, Jamison. When it comes to my own love life, I’m a grown up. I can take care of myself, by myself, and I’m sick of you acting like I’m a child without the brains God gave a billy goat.”
His eyebrows lift. “Sorry,” he says, obviously a little surprised by the force of my reaction.
I’m shocked too.
And maybe…full of shit.
Sure, I can take care of myself all by myself, but I don’t want to anymore.
I don’t want to face the future standing on my own two feet without anyone to lean on. I like the way Mick looks out for me, the way he checks the refrigerator before we run out of half-and-half for our coffee and insists I take an occasional break from my brutal workout routine to let my body recover and my muscles heal. I appreciate the way he rubs my shoulders after my third night sleeping on the lumpy cot at the station and how intently he listens. He listens with every part of him—body and soul—making me feel safe telling him things I’ve never told anyone else.