She nods and I kiss her quickly. “Thank you.” I lower my voice. “When the cops arrive, don’t say anything about April and what she said or what my dad said. Can you do that for me?”
She touches my cheek and I lean into it, needing her comfort. “Don’t you know, Alexander? I would do anything for you.”
I nod, closing my eyes, absorbing the trust she’s given me and stealing her strength. When I open my eyes again, I say, “I will do anything for you. I love you. Remember that.”
“I love you. Now go. We’ll be okay.”
Nodding once again, I stand and dial the police while heading back to the huge fucking scene of a crime that is my life. What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened?
22
Sara Jane
Alexander walks away and I look at the woman in front of me. She’s crumpled over, her face hidden by her hands. I stare at her, curious. I heard what was said back there. She’s Alexander’s biological mother. Moving my chair closer, I reach out to touch her. She jumps, but when she looks up, she releases a long breath, and asks, “Who are you?”
I rest my hand on top of hers. “I’m Sara Jane.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Who are you to him?”
“I’m Alexander’s girlfriend.”
She looks behind me. When I turn, I hear a woman scream and Alexander’s voice. I stand quickly, positioning myself in front of April protectively.
Over the tops of the cubicle, I see Alexander trying to calm the receptionist, Kimberly. Alexander had mentioned in passing once that she dated his father. I’m not sure how serious it was, but even if it wasn’t, she’s now dealing with a horrific loss.
Alexander embraces her as he walks her away from his father’s office. His tone is hushed, words whispered in a comforting tone. He handles her with such care, her full trust in his hands. When my gaze shifts to her, I see the way she looks at him, the way her arm wraps around his waist, the way she touches his chest, her hand resting on him like she’s done it a million times.
Are they close? He said he’s never cheated, and I believe him. Kimberly remembered me when I arrived tonight, so I dismiss the jealousy, and my heart begins to ache in what she must be feeling right now.
Turning around, I sit in the chair across from April again. “Did you look for him?”
Regret. Shame. Disappointment. Her expression floods with emotion while her fingers twist. “A couple times, but I was in no condition to continue.”
I see tissues on a desk two down from us and grab them. Offering her the box, she pulls a few and wipes her face. I take several and drag them under my eyes and across my cheeks.
She says, “He loves you. What he did for you in there, how he protected you. Love should always be that pure, that easy.”
“I’m not sure love is ever easy.”
“Then save yourself while you can. If it’s not easy now, it never will be.”
I dab my tongue to the tissue since I don’t have any water, and wipe lightly under my eyes, her words rattling me. Getting up, she says, “Hold still.” She takes another tissue and gently wipes under my lips. “Your lipstick is smeared.”
My spine bristles, the hair on my arms standing up. “I . . . I fought—”
I was nearly raped. Alexander’s father nearly raped me. Knowing Alexander would see.
“He didn’t get the best of you.”
The best of me . . . “My body’s not the best of me. My heart is. That’s what I protect the most.”
“Wise. I was dumb enough to fall in love once.” An actual smile, though very small, appears. “It didn’t turn out so well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Looking out the window next to her, she says, “Just don’t repeat my mistake.”
“And what would that be?”
Her eyes meet mine. “Getting too involved with a Kingwood.”
Too late.
I don’t bother saying it though. There’s no point in defending my feelings. Cruise comes down the aisle where we’re sitting and hands me my purse. “King wanted me to give this to you. The police are on their way. They’re going to want to talk to us.” Looking at me, he asks, “How’s she doing?”
I stand and we lean on a cubicle divider away from her. “I guess okay, considering.”
“How are you?”
“When did you start carrying a gun?”
“After we were jumped.”
The blood on Alexander’s lip. I remember and retort, “It’s not considered jumping if you’re looking for trouble.”
Cruise smiles. “You’re probably right. Guess we’ll keep those details from the cops.”
“Alexander wants to keep most things from the cops.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“It’s not about my feelings. It’s about Alexander.” I walk past, bumping his shoulder on the way. “And I’ll do anything to protect him.”
I hear a whistle. “I’m not sure what you did with that little Catholic schoolgirl, but damnnnnnn, the woman’s a badass.”
“Don’t forget it.”
“I won’t.”
Security rushes by me, running toward the office. They’re on their phones the moment they see what’s inside. I join Alexander and Kimberly near the door that leads to the reception area. She’s crying on his shoulder as he holds her, rubbing her back.
I tap him. “Alexander?”
He looks up and his arm drops down. “Come here.”
I take a step, but it’s not close enough for him to reach me. The line between his brows deepens and his eyes narrow as he tries to read me. My indifferent expression is enough to spur him to come to me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, but what are you doing?”
Taking me by the elbow, he moves us away from Kimberly. “You don’t have to worry. She’s a good woman.”
“How good?” Shoot. Why’d I say that?
The words smack him in the face. “What did you just say?”
Just as I’m about to apologize, the police rush through the doors, guns aimed in front of them. Alexander grabs me around the back and we hit the floor. I’m pinned beneath him on my knees, bent over, pain pulsing through me. “I’m sorry, Sara Jane.”
But the apology sounds like it’s for more than just taking me down to shield me. “What’s happening?”
“Fuck.” His breath is harsh.
The police tell everyone to freeze while two take the lead and check out the bastard’s office. The security guard helps them determine the basic situation and we slowly rise to our feet. Alexander cups my face and leans down to look me in the eyes.
“Alexander?”
“Sorry. I saw guns, and I didn’t want you hurt. It’s going to be a long night. How are you holding up?”
“Stop worrying about me. For fuck’s sake, Alexander. Your father has died. How are you?”
“He killed himself. He made that choice, not me, so I’m fine.” The edges of his mouth are straight, trouble seen in his brows. He runs his hands through his hair.
“Maybe you’re in shock?”
“Maybe I feel a weight lifted?”
“It’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to be strong for me.”
Taking me by the upper arms, he’s insistent. “I walked in on him about to rape you. He lied about my mother. He took me from the woman who gave me life and then tried to kill her. He never loved me. He tolerated me. Is it okay to be okay right now or do I need to put on a grieving face for you?”