“Sometimes,” I say, letting out a deep sigh. “Sometimes I wonder how she could have cast me aside the way she did,” I confide honestly, feeling a pain hit my chest that is always present when I think about Jules.
“I know that feeling. You’re lucky to have your dad and Lilly. I wish I had a parent I could share things with. I wish my dad was still alive,” she chokes out as wetness hits my bicep. Turning her in my arms I hold her closer against me.
“You have a family, baby,” I whisper, tucking her head under my chin.
“You know the sad part?” She sniffles.
“What’s that?”
“I would forgive her. If she came to me and apologized, I would forgive her, because I want to have that relationship with her. I’m so twisted that I would accept her back into my life if she apologized to me,” she whimpers, and I feel my heart break for her, because I know exactly what she’s feeling.
“You’re not twisted, Ellie. It’s ingrained in us from the time we’re little to love our family, to want to be close to them. It’s human nature, baby.”
“I hate her.”
“Shhh…” I soothe then tell her how much I love her, how much Hope loves her, and reassure her over and over what she means to me, while listening to her heartbreaking sobs until she finally cries herself to sleep. Getting out of bed, I go to the bathroom and wash myself off then take a wet towel to the bed and clean Ellie up before tucking her under the covers.
Grabbing my laptop from the top of the dresser, I walk across the room and take a seat in the chair next to the window. I’ve been keeping track of Jules since she was released from prison a few years ago, and I know she lives a couple hours away, near her mom and brother. Listening to Ellie tonight made me realize it’s time for me to face my demons, and finally get some much needed closure.
Pulling up her address online, I send myself a text from my computer with her information then shut down the laptop and set it on the chair. Going back to bed, I climb in behind Ellie and pull her body flush against mine, hearing her mumble, “I love you,” making me smile before I drift off to sleep.
*
“Hey, man, what’s up?” I greet Evan as he steps into my office and takes a seat across from me in one of the two chairs in front of my desk.
“Dropping this off,” he says, reaching over and handing me a folder that has my brows drawing downward.
“Who’s this?” I ask, opening it up and pulling out a stack of papers, all of them referring to a guy named Lane Diago, who is some low-ranking drug dealer in Alabama.
“That’s your cousin’s man,” he grits out, and my eyes meet him, seeing something in his gaze that causes my eyes to narrow.
“June?” I ask, and he nods while sitting back and running his hand down the beard he’s grown over the last few months. “Do you know how long she’s been seeing this guy?” I ask. I forgot all about Sage asking him to look into this a few months ago.
“My guess: about five months, give or take.”
“You wanna tell me why you look like you just got punched in the gut?” I ask, studying his face.
“Nope,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “What are you going to do about that?” He nods toward the folder that’s still in my hand and blanks his expression.
“I’ll deal with it,” I tell him, and his jaw ticks.
“You need to tell her to drop him. He’s gonna end up getting her in trouble, or worse.”
“Like I said, I’ll handle it.”
“Whatever. Are we still heading to Kentucky tonight?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Yeah, we’ll head out after eleven,” I mutter, giving him that play, seeing he’s not going to tell me what the fuck is eating at him, or why he seems so pissed about this to begin with.