Chapter 23 #2
I realized belatedly that I needed to contact Sunny. We’d worked with lawyers who crafted ironclad NDAs. They might have some ideas on how to mitigate the fallout. The PR company that handled Fletcher’s press could help, too. Maybe prepare statements or… something? I didn’t know.
It was the uncertainty of it all that killed me. I hated the feeling that I was a beach ball in the crowd at a concert, forever being whacked in the direction other people wanted me to go.
And I had so many priorities, so many people’s needs to consider. They were crowding my head, making it hard to focus on any one idea.
But I’d handled it before. Found a way to achieve what I wanted, even if I had to create an alter ego to do it. I’d figure this out, too, somehow.
I had too much at stake not to.
I grabbed my laptop from under the bed and fired off a few emails.
Trace eventually dished the pasta and sauce into two bowls and handed me one.
“Eat, baby. Let it go for a minute.”
I tried. I did. But when Trace took a seat on the swiveled passenger seat, he felt a million miles away, and even the warm comfort food couldn’t ease the tension that had crept back up my shoulders.
While Trace started doing the dishes, I went back to flipping idly through the journal, trying not to catastrophize.
Trace was quiet for a moment, scrubbing the pan. “I feel bad for Shay. She didn’t seem to know about any of this when I talked to her.”
“When did you talk to her?” I asked, surprised I hadn’t even thought about Shay since finding out her brother had been arrested.
“Went by their house when you never came back from the hike. She was all excited thinking the two of you were going to record music together, but she still called you Will, and she seemed a little confused about why Jake was all that excited about it.”
It was a relief to hear him say so. When I’d been alone in the woods, I’d thought back to the day my journal had gone missing.
I was almost positive Shay couldn’t have been the one to take it since she’d had the guitar in her hands at the time.
She was too little to have been able to hide it in her clothes without me noticing.
It seemed to me the entire thing had been orchestrated by Jake alone, so when he’d confessed at the top of the mountain, it had confirmed what I’d wanted to believe.
“That poor girl. Oh, man, do you think someone told her Jake’s in jail? I didn’t even consider… Maybe she needs our help.”
Trace huffed out a laugh. “Wolfe, she has plenty of friends in town if she needs something.”
“They have no money, Trace. Jake was really desperate.” I chewed my lip. “Maybe I can talk to him tomorrow when I go in to give my statement. See how much it would cost to keep him quiet if I agree not to press charges or testify, or whatever you call it.”
I knew better than to take Jake’s word, but maybe my lawyers could—
“Like hell you will.”
I blinked up at him before narrowing my eyes. “Excuse me?”
Trace set his hands on his hips. “Paying Jake off isn’t an option.”
“It is if I say it is,” I argued. Though, to be honest, I didn’t think it was a very good one. “This is my life we’re talking about, Trace. I’m the one who’ll have to live with the fallout. You promised not to treat me like a fucking kid. What happened to that?”
Trace stretched his neck from side to side as if trying to get control of himself. The muttered curses under his breath were an indication that he might not have succeeded.
“Jake committed a crime. The state might bring charges against him anyway. And I’m not telling you no because I think you’re a kid, but because you’re my—”
“Your?” I prompted when he broke off, dying to know how he’d finish that sentence.
“I don’t know!” he finally said. “I don’t know.
We haven’t labeled it, and I know it’s not the right time for that discussion.
Just like it’s not the time to push you to trust me.
” He blew out a frustrated breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer.
“But you’re something to me, Wolfe. We are something.
Something precious to me. Something… real. ”
I sucked in a breath. Maybe it was the emotion of the longest fucking day catching up with me, but that simple reminder brought tears to my eyes. “Yeah?”
Trace stepped closer and cupped my face in his big hands. “Yeah. So I care about keeping you safe. And baby, I can’t stand the idea of you breathing the same air as that asshole.”
“Not thrilled about it myself,” I admitted.
“Then for tonight, can you just let me hold you and get some sleep?”
I nodded, beyond ready to fall into the soft bedding and hope my thoughts and fears wouldn’t keep me awake.
If I could sleep, maybe I could come up with a solution for all of this by morning, before giving my statement or talking to Jake.
He blew out a breath. “Good. Now, scoot over so I can be the one on the edge.”
We stripped down to our underwear before turning off the remaining lights and tangling together under the sheets.
After a while, his low voice split the darkness. “I really want to be your something, Wolfe.”
The words were like warm honey sliding into my veins, making me feel ten times more drugged than I’d felt under the influence of whatever Jake had slipped me.
“Me too,” I whispered into the dark space between us.
Because being Trace Bishop’s something… was everything.