Restraint - Adriana Locke Page 0,52

do that? Because, if you do, I’ve done something wrong.”

“No,” she rushes, sticking a hand in front of her. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I would never ridicule you for anything you say or choose to share with me. Unless you think Boone is a genius. In that case, prepare yourself.”

This gets a little laugh out of her.

She’s gathering her courage as I watch her from a safe distance.

“When my parents died, I was a wreck,” she says, her tone monotone and as if she just needs to get the words out. “They were my lifeline. My safety net. Having them pass away like they did just pulled the rug out from under me.”

I nod.

“I had a boyfriend. Jack was his name. And a friend named Lacie. And, at first, they were supportive.”

My jaw clenches. I don’t think I like where this is going.

She ignores me. “I couldn’t pull myself together. It was … months before I could even function for a whole day. I had their estate to settle. I had to keep my youngest brother from landing himself in prison. Walker … I don’t even want to go there, and Lance had a health crisis that I had to get him through because if I didn’t, it would fall on our nana.”

She paces back and forth across my office. The words tumble past her lips in quick succession. It’s as though she’s afraid that if she stops, she’ll never restart.

“That’s a lot,” I say softly, wanting to offer support but not interrupt.

She stops walking and looks at me. “It was so much.” Her voice cracks. “And, like you, I looked up one day and realized that decisions had been made without me being asked. Only, Jack and Lacie had decided to move on together, and I was left holding a bunch of broken pieces of a life I had just a few weeks before.”

I was right. I don’t like where this is going.

“I remember asking him why he did that to me. How could he do this to me? And he said I was so self-absorbed with my own shit and that I wasn’t there for him. That he needed my support to get through law school, and if I wasn’t going to give him that, then he didn’t see why he should waste any time on me.”

A single, solitary tear slips down her cheek.

My heart breaks for her. Watching her cry feels like someone kicked me in the gut.

I reach for her, but she backs away.

“He told me I was weak and too emotional, and I would never make a good attorney. He threw all the things I’d confided in him back in my face and made me sound like an impulsive train wreck.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her hands. “Maybe I was.”

“You just lost your parents, Blaire. You’re entitled to be a mess. But you’re also entitled to have the support of your friends when you’re going through things like that.”

It takes everything I have to be kind and patient. What I really want to do is give in to the burst of adrenaline shooting through my veins and demand to know who this guy is and where I can find him.

But that won’t help her. And, for what might be the first time in a long time, she needs someone to put her first.

She sniffles. “I was staying in his apartment. I was on his phone plan. I had everything of mine tied up with his, and when he kicked me out, I had nothing. I controlled nothing in my life. I had to threaten to have the police come and let me get my things because he wouldn’t let me in.”

I take her hand in mine and pull her closer.

We stand with a few feet between us. The fear in her eyes from before is faded. A strand of hair is stuck to the side of her face with a tear. I use my free hand to brush it away.

The contact breaks an invisible wall. Her eyes fill with unshed tears.

“I broke down, Holt,” she says through a lump in her throat. “I sat one night in the bathroom of this shitty apartment that I found for next to nothing and told Machlan how he had to straighten up. How his future depended on it. How I expected him to make good choices. I hung up the phone and just cried.”

Tears flow down both cheeks. She tries to slip her hand