Chapter 1
One
The most dangerous drug I know has a heartbeat.
—Boone’s secret thoughts
Boone
Present day
Have you ever seen something you wanted so badly that you thought “I’d kill to have that?”
“Are you even listening to me, Bartholomew?”
Even if she’d said my name like a curse, it was still better than not hearing it at all.
Not to mention, she was the only one who could get away with using my given name without me getting irrationally angry.
She was the thing I’d kill for. The person I’d die for. The person that I’d lie, cheat, and steal for. She was THE person. Yet, she looked at me like I’d ruined her world.
And I guess I had.
It was my fault that I hadn’t believed her.
It was also my fault that I didn’t fight harder for her.
There were years of bitterness between us. There were things I couldn’t change. There were things that I wouldn’t change.
I was a different person than the one she left behind at sixteen.
Smarter, I would say.
Scarier.
More jaded.
More fucked up than anyone even knew.
“I’m listening,” I promised. “I’m just not caring.”
That was a lie.
I cared a whole lot about her.
Yet, she would never believe me if I told her that.
She sighed. “Come on, Bart. You can just take me home.”
“You don’t have a home.”
She paused. “I have an apartment.”
I looked at her. “What?”
“The one your dad gave me. I still use it,” she murmured softly.
That was news to me. I’d thought, when she left for college, that she’d left everything behind. Including me.
It was surprising to me that she still had the apartment.
Not only because my dad had given it to her, and she’d left anything Windsor-related behind. But because having an apartment here meant that she felt like she might come back.
“No,” I decided. “You’re not going home. You’re coming to my place.”
She sneered at me. “And run into your mother? No thank you.”
“I haven’t lived with my mother for years, and you know it.”
She sniffed and looked away.
Then started to hiccup.
It was just cute enough that I forgot what a bad idea it was to be taking her to my place.
I should be staying as far away from her as possible.
I should be getting ready for work tomorrow. Or possibly checking on my patients that were staying overnight.
I should be dropping her off and never looking back.
Yet, I did none of those things.
I further dug my own grave by drinking a beer with her when I got home.
Then taking a shot.
Followed shortly by another, and another, and another.
By the time we got to the worst decision of the night, neither one of us was in the position to say no.
And, like always, that decision changed the course of our lives.
I just wouldn’t know it for quite some time.