Page 22 of The Complete Truth Duet
River and Savannah had tried to force me into one of the showers when the paramedics left, but I’d been too close to breaking down for that.
I couldn’t escape that building—or the life it represented.
All I’d been able to do was race up the stairs, lock myself in my bedroom, and then cry tears for a woman who would never be able to again. It was disgusting, and the guilt I felt afterward was overpowering, but somewhere in those tears was a selfish pang of jealousy that she had gotten to leave.
And I had to stay.
I found my ruined turquoise robe hanging over the back of my rocking chair. The sleeve was already covered in blood from my nose the day Chrissy had left; a little more would seal its fate at the bottom of a burn can.
Using a towel and a bottle of water next to my bed, I cleaned myself up as much as I could, all the while compartmentalizing my emotions.
There was a place for everything.
Anger. Sadness. Resentment. Guilt. Dread. Remorse.
And once they were all tucked away in their filthy little drawers in my head, I tied my robe as tight as I could get it, drew in a breath, and set forth on ending my latest nightmare.
As I entered the living room, my gaze landed on Penn first. He was standing beside the door, still mostly covered in blood, though he was wearing a clean T-shirt. His weight shifted subtly at first. Then he lurched toward me, only making it a step before throwing the brakes on. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he scanned me from head to toe. And then his sad, desolate eyes came back to mine.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
My chest squeezed. “It’s not your fault.”
“I don’t know if that’s true anymore.”
I watched him intently as if I were memorizing his features. He was a stranger, but after everything we’d been through that night, it seemed like I’d somehow known him longer than a day.
A lot longer. Like, say, a million years longer.
It didn’t make sense, but I had to physically restrain myself from running into his arms, burying my face in his chest, and letting him hold me while I cried for at least a week. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had someone to lean on. And, while Penn couldn’t possibly realize what he’d done for me just by being there that night, he’d given me something huge.
He’d given me faith in humanity again.
His dense, blue eyes tracked me as I moved deeper into the room, but it was Drew who rose from his seat on the couch and met me in the middle.
“Jesus, Cora,” he murmured as he made it to me in three strides. “How ya doing?”
“I’m…fine.” I flicked my gaze back to Penn. His body was rigid, and his face was nothing more than a cold mask.
Drew gave my arm a squeeze.
Curiously, I watched Penn follow the movement of his brother’s hand.
Even more curiously, I immediately stepped away from Drew despite the fact that his offer of comfort felt nice. But not as nice as Penn’s would have been.
“I’d love to tell you two that stuff like this doesn’t happen often.” I cleared my throat to keep the emotion at bay. “But, well, I… All I can really tell you is that I’m sorry and I hope like hell it doesn’t happen again.”
Drew bent at the knee, bringing us to eye level. “Are you kidding? Don’t apologize.” It was soft and sweet, everything a woman in my position should have wanted to hear, but once again, I looked at Penn.
“Thank you. For, ya know…trying.”
His eyes closed and his chin jerked to the side like I’d wounded him rather than praised his efforts. “Yeah. No prob,” he replied on a pained chuff.
A suffocating amount of awkward silence ensued until I finally gave us all a break by turning my attention to the badge-wearing elephant in the room.
“Hey, Larry,” I said, offering him a weak smile.
His salacious gaze raked over my bare legs up to my breasts. “Cora.”
Larry was as crooked as cops came. And despite the wedding ring on his left hand and the fact that he was old enough to be my grandfather, he was also as fucked up as johns came. This was most likely why he found himself at the beck and call of the Guerreros.
I noticed the familiar coffee mug in his hand and turned to arch an eyebrow at River. She shrugged. She’d no doubt been doing the hostess-with-the-mostess bit to buy me time to collect myself. But, now, it was time for her to do the get-the-hell-out-of-here bit.
“Can you do me a favor and go check on Libby?” We didn’t have a Libby.
Dipping her head, she focused on her feet. “Do I have to? I’d rather just go back to bed. It’s been a long night.”
