Chapter 8 #2
Sloane’s hand reached over, gently resting on my bicep. “I’m just kidding, Rhys. When have we not given each other shit for being stupid?”
Speaking of being stupid… I couldn’t decide if it was the right time to bring Stu up again. I’d been wanting to ask about it since that morning in Cam’s office, but any time I danced around the subject, her jaw would clamp shut. It was extremely obvious she wasn’t interested in talking about it.
If something was going on, I needed to know. I’d lost that privilege over the last few months; that much was evident to me. But knowing that something was going on while I was busy at strip clubs and bars trying to forget about the love I harbored for her bothered me so much.
I put her at risk by pulling away. I was being selfish, and it put her at risk.
Police Chief or not, I would protect her from anyone.
It did make me feel marginally better that the security guard in her building was taking the extra money I threw his way seriously and keeping Stu out.
“Rhys?” She spoke softly, trying (and failing) to conceal the hiccup that followed. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
I smiled, shaking my head. “No, Pip. I’m sorry.
I’m just—” my eyes trailed the bare skin of her legs again before refocusing on the road.
“I’m a little distracted tonight, that’s all.
” Very distracted. Long, toned legs. The way she wore my jersey, my lips on hers.
Fucking Stu. My brain was a mess right now.
She took a sip from her soft drink and relaxed into the seat, tossing another fry into her mouth.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Ask away,” she answered.
I took another breath, my fingers flexing around the steering wheel, causing the leather to creak in my grasp. “What’s goin’ on with Stu?” I asked gently.
Her whole body stilled, her jaw freezing mid-chew.
I hated the way her shoulders fell a bit while she sat in thought.
The last thing I wanted to do was make her uncomfortable or throw a wet blanket over her night, but I had a feeling whatever Stu was doing to her was a lot worse.
Sloane gave herself a second, rolling her shoulders and straightening her back while she finished chewing her fries.
“Rhys… You just—You can’t be mad, okay?”
“I can’t promise anything, Pip. But any anger that I have will never be directed at you,” I replied as softly as I could. The fact that she even had to preface her explanation with that already had my blood close to boiling point.
She sighed. “Maybe we should wait until we get home, then.”
Usually, I would’ve agreed. But again, with the queen of deflection sitting in my passenger seat, I wasn’t taking any chances. “Please, Sloane. I just—I need to know what we’re up against.”
My stomach twisted, unable to stop myself from imagining the worst.
“We didn’t date for long. Only a few months, you know that.
” She paused, crossing and uncrossing her legs.
“Stu got… real serious, real fast. And then after a month, I realized it wasn’t him being serious.
It was him being possessive, like scary, controlling, possessive.
I couldn’t—” She paused, closing her eyes again.
I reached over, placing my hand on her thigh, hoping to give her the encouragement she needed to continue.
Her hand came down over mine and gripped it tight.
My focus was still on the heaviness of the conversation, but there was a small part of me that was relieved I could still offer her comfort.
“I couldn’t have any male numbers in my phone.
I couldn’t see Andre outside of work. He just—he tried to cut me off from everyone.
And I didn’t—I didn’t even see it until it was too late.
Until it was bad. It started so… innocent.
It was like a leak in the ceiling that started as a slow drip.
You hardly pay attention to it; it’s more of a nuisance than problematic.
And then all of a sudden, everything is collapsing on top of you, and you just—you don’t know how it got so bad or how you missed all of the signs that it was heading in the direction it was heading.
And I just—” She sniffled, and my fucking heart shattered.
This moment wasn’t about me, I knew that. But I also knew that I would never forgive myself for pulling away when she needed me the most. She was drowning, and despite the many promises I’d made to always be there, I wasn’t.
“I tried to call you… a few times before we broke up.” She wiped her cheeks, looking over at me. “Before you started actively avoiding me. But it wouldn’t go through. I found out a couple of weeks after I left him that he’d gone through my phone and blocked your number. Dom’s, too.”
My stomach sank. I knew the exact timeframe she was talking about. It was one of the reasons I pulled away. Except… I thought she wasn’t calling or answering because she was happy… In love and distracted.
I tasted the bile rising in my throat, thinking of how miserable she was, and how I had just… stopped reaching out. I stopped showing up for her. Stopped paying attention.
“I don’t want you to be mad at me,” she said quietly. Her voice was thick with emotion, and my breath caught in my throat.
How could she possibly think I would be mad at her for any of this?
“I know—” she paused, clearing her throat. “—I know I’m stronger than that. I’m better than that. I know that. I just— I don’t know—”
“Sloane,” I cut her off, my voice feeling like gravel, dry and scratchy in my throat.
“I could never be mad at you. For anything.” I almost wished that I had listened to her and waited to have this conversation at home because I wanted nothing more than to pull her close and shield her from everything I hadn’t before.
There were so many raw emotions tearing at my chest, begging to be let out, but my focus was on the road, and I felt so fucking helpless. The hand I had gripping the steering wheel tightened, my molars grinding audibly.
I was so fucking pissed. And frustrated. Sloane was having such a good night, so carefree and happy. Now, she was sinking herself as far into the passenger seat as she could, swiping tears from her cheeks.
“You said you weren’t mad.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it hit me in the gut like a goddamn wrecking ball.
I cursed under my breath and told myself to calm down. To do anything in my power to make her understand I wasn’t angry with her. But my hands were shaking from the adrenaline pulsing through my veins, white blooming across my knuckles.
All plans to finish this conversation at the apartment vanished when she stifled a small sob. I unbuckled my seatbelt, turned on my hazards, and pulled onto the shoulder.
Cars zoomed past as I threw my door open, stomping over to the passenger side and yanking her door open. I crouched on the asphalt beside her.
She stared over at me with wide, bloodshot eyes, and it absolutely broke my fucking heart.
“Sloane Taylor,” I said roughly, reaching out to grip her hands in mine. I looked up at her, shaking my head. “I’m not mad at you. I meant what I said. I’m not mad at you. I’m— I don’t know. I’m pissed at Stu. I’m furious with him. And selfishly, I’m pissed at myself.”
Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What? Why?” She sniffled again, her grip on my hands tightening.
“Because—” My voice cracked, and her eyes filled with tears.
“I promised you, Pip. I promised I would never let anything happen to you. I’m your best friend.
And this—this fucker. He was—the whole time I was—” I shook my head, trying to make sense of the jumbled thoughts and emotions running through my brain.