Boyd’s eyebrows squished together. “I hate to tell you this, but I haven’t seen him. My mother was gone all day yesterday, too. It was just me, and Ray never came.”
It was her turn to look confused. That wasn’t right. Ray said he’d gone to see him. He wouldn’t lie, but Boyd would. “You’re lying. Ray said he came and talked to you. Said you weren’t lying about being in a wheelchair.”
“Well, I’m not lying about being in a wheelchair. I have medical papers and my therapist’s number if you need to call and confirm. If it’ll make you feel better.”
No, it probably wouldn’t. Boyd was her big suspect. If he wasn’t stalking her, then who was?
“And I’m not lying about Ray not coming out here yesterday,” Boyd continued. “If he said he did, he’s the liar.”
Sloan shook her head. He was lying. She knew it. Wasn’t he?
“Why would he lie about seeing you?”
“That’s a question you need to ask him. You’re being stalked, right? And this guy you trust is lying to you about me. Seems suspicious.”
“I was the one who thought it was you. He came here to make me feel better.”
“By saying I did it?” Boyd’s brow rose and so did the pitch of his voice. “I can’t even take a bath myself, Sloan. I can’t play football. I can’t run. I can’t even drive my car. I’m stuck here, which is better than where I’ll be stuck in a few months. I don’t need any more charges hanging over my head. It’s not me. I’m not lying, but your boyfriend is.”
“He’s not… my boyfriend,” Sloan said slowly, almost in a daze. She’d come for answers and had confronted her attacker to get them. Yay her, but the answers made no sense.
Boyd grinned just a little. “Aaron, then? I knew he protected you too well not to have feelings for you. No one jumps in and tries to kill someone like he did me if he didn’t care about the girl.”
His logic made a lot of sense. It wasn’t something she wanted to think about, though. Not at the moment. “So, you’re saying you can’t walk. You aren’t stalking me. And Ray never came to see you yesterday?”
“Yes. I’m saying all of that.” Boyd bent forward and linked his fingers together. “I am glad you came, though. I’m sorry. Truly sorry for what I did. I just… I lost my mind temporarily. I was hurt and angry, and I didn’t handle it well. It hurt you and ruined my life, and I am sorry. Truly. Truly sorry. Can you forgive me? Please.”
Sloan saw the boy she’d fallen in love with in those eyes. He was charming and loving, caring and protective. As much as she didn’t want too, as much as she hated him, she knew she had to forgive him. It was her duty not only as a Christian, but also for her to start healing.
“Okay,” Sloan said barely over a whisper.
“Okay?” Boyd asked, tears forming in his eyes.
“Okay. But I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for me. I can’t live with hating you. It’s ruining my life too.” And it was. She hated how she felt when she thought about him and all the hate and anger that made her into a person she didn’t like. It was time to let it all go and focus on the new stalker person in her life. Sigh.
“I can live with that.” He smiled a genuine smile, something she hadn’t seen since before they’d broken up. “Thank you.”
Sloan nodded, not sure of what else to say. He’d answered her questions, but not with the answers she’d wanted or expected.
“Here. Hold on.” He rolled away and let the door shut. A few seconds later, he returned and held out a piece of paper.
She hesitated before taking it, afraid he’d grab her and pull her into the house.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Sloan. I promise. I couldn’t if I wanted. Here, take this.” He held out the paper again, and she quickly grabbed it.
Sloan opened it and read it. “It’s my physical therapist’s number. His name is Eric. Call him if you don’t think I’m telling the truth about not being able to walk. He’ll confirm it. It’ll make you feel better… well, about that at least. I swear on my mother that I’m not the one harassing you. I’ve moved on,” he said with a slight smile on his face.
For some reason, nostalgia or how light she felt now, she believed him. “Thank you. Thanks for being honest.”
“Anytime,” he answered as she left. “I do have a question though.”
She turned when she got to the bottom step.
“Are you okay?”
She didn’t suppose she was, was she? “Fine. Why?”
“You don’t look good. I mean… Not like that. You look great. Just tired. And your eyes are all red and bloodshot. You haven’t been doing something you aren’t supposed to, right? Because of me.”