Such a hard question to answer. It felt like I’d loved Chase since the day I was born. “A few months,” I managed.
“Chase Stern?” he asked, looking up at me.
I wondered how he knew. I wondered how transparent I’d been. I nodded tightly, but it was unneeded. He had seen the truth in my face as soon as he’d said the name.
“Shit, Ty.”
“It started way back,” I said. “When I was a ball girl. But then—”
“…you got pregnant,” he said flatly.
“Yeah.”
I said nothing, and neither did he, a long moment of silence, the air vent in the room humming to life, cool air hitting my face, and I shivered. He noticed the movement and wrapped a hand around my shoulders, pulling me carefully into his chest, a kiss pressed against my head. “Love you, Ty.”
Part of me hated him. For his weakness. For keeping the key to all of this from the police. He’d cheated. He’d put our lives in jeopardy. But we had also shared so many years, so many memories, such a large chunk of our lives. “I love you, too.”
“I’ll miss you. So will the team.”
I nodded, without speaking, more tears threatening. The team. My relationship with them had changed so much in the last four years, my life from them more removed when up in the skybox, a new distance present when my last name changed to Grant. I wasn’t really losing the team. That loss had started four years ago, the last day I dressed out.
“I’ll have to trade Chase.” He looked away, stepping back. “I can’t … I’m sorry. I know what the team means to you.”
“I know.” I nodded, wiping at my eyes before the tears fell.
“I want you to be happy. You know that, right?” He rolled his lips tightly, the tremble of them almost hidden by the movement, his own eyes wet as he looked at me. I didn’t care what secrets he’d hid. There was good in him. There was love between us. It just wasn’t true. It just wasn’t enough.
I nodded and stepped away from him before I reached out. “I’m gonna go.”
“When are you leaving?”
“I’ll go home now and pack a bag.”
“Wow.” He winced. “Not how I pictured celebrating the win.” I started to speak, and he stopped me. “No. I’m fine. Go. Take Titan with you.” He reached forward and pulled me into another hug, this one hard and tight before he roughly stepped away, nodding to the door. “Check in with the doc. I’ll have him call you in the morning.”
Goodbye seemed too trivial of a word, so I only nodded, turning on my heel and walking out the door, Detective Thorpe pushing off the opposite wall, his eyes meeting mine.
“Do you have anything else for me?” I asked.
“Not that can’t be done tomorrow via phone. Take care of yourself, Mrs. Grant.” He held out his hand, and I took it, shaking it firmly.
“It’s Ty.” God, that last name haunted me. I would reclaim Rollins as soon as I could.
I think he understood, his kind smile the sort that spoke volumes. “Be safe, Ty. I’ll have a deputy escort you home.”
“That won’t be necessary.” I said the words without thinking, no ride set up, no one waiting outside. But the thought of a uniform, the thought of someone guarding me … it was stifling at a time when I only wanted freedom. And it was unimportant when the threat to my life was now behind bars. I smiled a goodbye and moved past him, down a long hall, then to an elevator, people everywhere despite the late hour. My hands trembled around the strap of my purse, my throat dry when I swallowed. I wanted to run, to kick off my shoes and sprint out the double doors. My steps quickened, a click clack along the concrete floor, the glass doors closer, closer, closer. Then I was through, the night air cool and clear, a shot of adrenaline zipping through me. I was free. I was alive.
Back home, my dad and Carla waited, expecting for me to ride home with Tobey. I had no idea where Chase was, my phone breaking in its tumble down the stairs, the touch screen useless, calls unanswerable. My frustration and elation warred, my desperation to see Chase competing with the need to hug my father, to tell him everything, to grab my bag and Titan, and get in my car and GO—out of the Grant world, out of the Yankee bubble.
My bags were already packed and tucked into the back of my closet. Monday, I would have our house manager pack my items and send them to the auction house. I had no need for the furs and gowns, the matching luggage sets and jewelry. They would bring a high price at auction, the proceeds sent to the Boys and Girls Club.