Page 30 of Broken
“I… I—” I turn away, not able to look at him. Tears well and slip down my cheeks. “I loved you, and as you said, I trusted you with my body. Then the letter. I thought you used me, that you got to fuck me, take my virginity and then you had a laugh with your buddies in the locker room.”
“I should take you over my knee for even thinking something like that.”
I want to yell at him for such words, but the look of sheer anguish on his face prevents me from it.
“I was barely eighteen! It was so intense. So honest. And then the letter was also honest.”
“It was a lie!” He draws in a deep breath. “Why did you go to Arizona? I mean, that’s a big fucking coincidence.”
“My mom…” My mind goes blank. Whydidwe go? Mom got some money, and it came from… Wheredidit come from? Such a blur, that time. I was awash in heartbreak—young and pregnant and tossed away by the man I thought would someday be my husband.
“Your mom…what?” he asks, this time gently.
“A relative.” I search my mind for the memories. “A great-aunt died and my mom was the only living descendent. It was enough to start a new life somewhere else, for both of us to get an education. It was a godsend. At just the right time, too.”
“Right.” He rubs his forehead. “Just the right time. Doesn’t that seem a little too coincidental? I dump you in a letter and your mother comes into money to get you out of the trailer park?”
I whip my hands to my hips. “It does now. But I was a kid! A teen with a nasty Dear John letter. I wasn’t thinking about whether any of it made sense. I was thankful to get the hell out of this town.”
He covers his eyes, rubs his temples. “You didn’t say a word. I went to your house. You were gone. I had to learn that you left from your neighbor. That older woman. Mrs. Heinz.”
Mrs. Heinz. I haven’t thought of her in years. She used to bake the best cookies, and every week she rinsed her hair with something that made it look blue. Whatever happened to her? She probably died alone in that trailer park.
In my mind’s eye I see Chance on the steps of the old trailer. Knocking. No answer, and then hearing from Mrs. Heinz that Mom and I left. I turn then.
“Why didn’t you come get me? Why didn’t you question? Wonder?”
“You ’think I didn’t wonder?” He makes a fist, and his blue eyes go wild. “I’ve wondered every single day. And Ididgo after you. I missed two weeks of school trying to find you. But you disappeared into thin air.”
He steps toward me, and I retreat until I run into the wall. He cups my face again and presses his body into me.
“It’s a good thing my father’s dead. If I learned about what he did while he was alive, I’d have killed him.”
I swallow, nod. He would have.
“You need to find out what he was into, get to the bottom of the shit that’s brought you back here. Solve it. Put the guilt onhim. All of it. You and I both know it’s where it belongs.”
I nod again.
“Tell me I can kiss you. Tell me I can learn your body again. To prove to you that you’ve always been mine. That there are no more secrets between us.”
I want to tell him yes. To all of it. Because I want him to do all that. Except there’s one secret left unsaid.
Grady.
I believe Chance. I do. But I won’t risk my son. Not for anything. He might prove that I’ve always been his, but I don’t know if I’m ready for him to know he’s always had a son too. For now, Grady stays a secret. Until everything’s revealed. Until I know the one piece of Chance Bridger that’s always been mine won’t be yanked away.
“Kiss me,” I say, a split second before his mouth descends on mine.
12
CHANCE
Kiss me.
I don’t have to be told twice. Or once. I cup the back of her head and hold her so our lips meet. I’m gentle for a moment—one quick second where I remember the feel of her, her scent, everything about being with her.
And then I’m ravenous. I delve in and our tongues meet. I lick into her, angle her head to get as deep as possible. I move my hands over her body, immediately dropping to the hem of her sleep shirt and back up, taking it with me so I tug it over her head.
