“I’m not going to a psychiatrist.” I narrowed my eyes. “I’ll deal.”
“Then talk to Dad. He counsels military veterans every day. Plus he understands what we went through.”
I snarled. “I said I’ll deal.” I was afraid that the minute I opened myself up, the guilt that had taken up a large space inside me would be real. Which would mean I was responsible for my sister’s death.
He raised his hands. “Okay. I’ll back off. So, have you heard from Davenport? Do you have an interview set up yet?”
I blew out a breath. “No. I called yesterday, and the receptionist said Mr. Davenport would be in touch. He was at the shindig with his daughter. I spoke to her briefly. But when I went to talk to him, he was gone.”
“You haven’t slept with her?”
I arched a brow. “Fuck no.” I pushed to my feet. “I may crave sex, but I wouldn’t stoop low enough to sleep with someone to get a job. I have morals, you know.”
He circled the desk. “Bro, I’m sorry.” He squeezed my shoulder.
The door opened. The thump, thump of the bass blasted in.
Lacey breezed in with her brown hair flowing behind her and her breasts poking out of her low-cut green dress. “It’s crazy out there.”
Sliding his gaze over the love of his life, Kade groaned.
“I’m out of here.” I stalked to the door. Lacey was only home for the weekend, and when she was, she and Kade sucked face the entire time. I didn’t blame him, but I didn’t want to witness their escapades.
“Wait, Kel,” Lacey said as she tried to wrap her small hand around my bicep. “Why didn’t you wait for Chloe after the art gala?” She peered up at me with those green eyes of hers, reminding me of Emma.
“We’re not together anymore, remember?” Then I got the hell out of there before she could give me the third degree about love and shit. Besides, I had another girl—with red hair and a light scent of jasmine—who drew my interest.
5
Lizzie
I jumped on the subway, or as Bostonians called it, “the T.” A middle-aged lady sat across from me, holding onto her purse for dear life. Several other people from all walks of life occupied the other seats, reading, chatting, or sleeping.
My phone vibrated as the train sped down the tracks. I checked the screen. A text from Peyton. How come you ran out after you thanked my mom? I wanted to invite you to a frat party at BU. Call me. We can change wig styles and give the frat boys a run for their money.
I chewed my lip. Her invitation sounded like fun. But I didn’t know how long I’d be with Dillon.
Sorry. I’m tired. Let’s do something soon. In part, I lied again. I ran out because I was afraid she’d want to tag along, and bringing her with me would only get complicated. Plus, for the brief time I’d met Dillon, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would welcome Peyton. Not when he was selling me a gun.
Let’s meet for lunch at BU next week.
Deal, I replied. Peyton and I had had loads of fun when we were at the University of Miami. The train braked, announcing my stop. I filed out of the train car with a handful of people. Climbing up the stairs, I pocketed my phone. Once outside, the cold wind hit me. I shivered as I got my bearings. I’d checked out the map before I boarded the train. I had to walk four blocks. Sweeping my long, dark hair around me, I tucked it inside my coat then began my trek to Rumors. I found my hair was a great neck warmer.
Speaking of hair, I was giving Dillon what he’d asked for—the real me. When I’d gotten back to my hotel room, I’d stared at myself in the mirror, debating for several minutes whether to show Dillon the real me or stay in disguise. If I showed up at the club as Emma with my red wig and green contacts, he might make a scene or cancel our business arrangement. I didn’t want to bring any attention to myself. Plus, I couldn’t afford to have him back out. I had no doubt that I could find another gun dealer in a vast city like Boston, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I also didn’t want to answer any questions that another stranger might have. Or do business with someone I didn’t know. Not that I knew Dillon all that well. But he came highly recommended from his cousin, who I’d partied with in Miami. Besides, I was one person among a population of over six hundred thousand in this city. I had nothing to worry about, not with Terrance Malden out of town. I could be me for one night.