Page 60 of The Complete Truth Duet
“Ah, he can’t get it up. Don’t take it too hard. He’s old—”
“He can get it up!” I exclaimed entirely too loudly, just as Penn appeared with one end of the queen-sized pillowtop mattress.
“I can get what up?” he grunted as he backed past us.
Drew appeared a few steps later, holding the other end and flashing me a knowing smile.
I rolled my eyes and then shot Savannah a death glare that only made her giggle. In a sugary-sweet—and hopefully distracting—tone, I replied, “The bed. That’s all. Nothing more.” I shuffled to the side, bumping Savannah out of the way so the guys could get through the doorway to my apartment.
River let out one last, “Pivot!” as they made their way inside.
When they disappeared toward my bedroom, I hissed at Savannah, “Would you hush? First of all, it’s none of your business what Penn and I do or do not do in my bedroom. Secondly, he’s not old.”
“So you’re telling me you’ve been together for over a month and you haven’t put out yet?”
Uncomfortably, I looked at River, who was suddenly—and thankfully—enthralled with her shoes.
“Again. None of your business.” I lowered my voice and hissed, “But no. I have not put out yet.” I kept the not for a lack of trying to myself.
Her eyes flashed wide, and then all at once, her face paled. “Holy shit. You’re seriously not fucking him?”
My back shot straight. The crap Savannah said never surprised me anymore. She had no filter whatsoever. But it was the pure terror contorting her face that made my heart stop.
Eying her curiously, I replied, “No. I’m not.”
Diving forward, she grabbed both of my shoulders and gave me a hard shake. “Why not!”
“Hey!” River yelled, attempting to wade into the middle of whatever the hell was going on.
“What is wrong with you?” I snapped.
Savannah’s crazed, green eyes bored into me, suffocating panic rolling off her. “You have to have sex with him! He’ll either leave, find it somewhere else, or he’ll take it. Men don’t wait!” She gave me a hard shove, sending me stumbling back. “If you want to keep him, you need to stop with the games and give him what he wants.”
My stomach sank as bile crawled up my throat. “That’s not the way relationships work, honey. Penn would never—”
“Yes, he would!” Her voice cracked, and her hands trembled as she tried to shove me again.
I caught her wrists before she had the chance. “Stop it,” I seethed.
She only got more worked up. Tears spilled from her eyes as her face turned bright red. “He’s a man! He will, Cora. And then he will leave. So, please, I’m begging you. Just give him what he wants. We can’t afford to lose him.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “What do you mean we can’t lose him?”
It was River who answered. “She means Marcos and Dante haven’t been back since Penn and Drew got here. Not even after Angela. They’ve never been gone this long, especially not after something like that.”
This was something I knew and had been doing my best not to harp on. Having Penn as a distraction had made it easier.
What was not easier was knowing that the girls had taken over my position as Head Worrier.
I cringed when realization dawned on me. They liked Penn. He was nice to them; Drew was too. The Walker brothers paid the girls a few dollars here and there to help clean up after jobs or fold their laundry. Penn had even sat Savannah down once after dinner at my place and helped her with homework. I was a fool for not seeing it coming. River and Savannah had finally met a decent man, and now, they were terrified of losing him.
I attempted a deep inhale, but I found no air. Not with the staggering weight of the lessons those girls had already learned in their short lives blanketing the room.
The men in River’s life were sociopaths, criminals of the worst kind.
And Savannah, underneath her clothes, still wore burns and scars from her father.
They both hid the aftermath of their abuse well for the most part. But shit like that didn’t fade into the background in a matter of weeks or years. For most women—myself included—it became the focus of every single decision they made for the rest of their lives.
The past wasn’t always the past. Sometimes, it was nothing more than a distorted spotlight illuminating your every step, no matter how beautiful that path in the present might be.
It was a light that couldn’t be broken.
Or outrun.
Not even when it burned out.
Sometimes, the only thing that could shade the pain was learning that bigger and brighter lights existed.
Ones that shined the truth, warmed your freezing skin, and healed your tattered heart.
It didn’t have to be a man. It could have been anyone.
