exaggerated sigh. “She came to the house looking for you. I’m not even sure how she got in, because she didn’t ring through from the gate. Did you give her the code?”
“Why would I do that?” The question is pure bewilderment. My goal was to keep Alexis as far away from my toxic mother’s presence as possible for as long as possible. I would never have sent her into the snake pit alone. So why in the world would I have given her the gate code?
Another sniff. “I’ll have to speak to security then. People shouldn’t be able to just get in like that.”
“What did she want?” I ask, my tone sharp enough to cut granite, hoping to snap her out of whatever tirade about lax security she’s about to launch into. I don’t have the time or energy to deal with that right now.
“Like I said, she came looking for you. Which means she doesn’t know where you are. Trouble in paradise?”
I can’t. I absolutely cannot. Without a word, I hang up the phone. I know I’ll hear about it later, but I don’t care right now. I can’t deal with my mother on top of everything else.
When my phone starts ringing immediately, I decline the call and power down my phone. I’m done. One hundred percent done. I just want to climb into this bed that Lauren assured me had fresh sheets on it and not wake up for a week. Because maybe then life will make sense again. Or at least I’ll have the wherewithal to deal with how fucked up it’s become in the course of one afternoon.
I can’t do that, though, for a lot of reasons. Not least of which being the fact that I do need to talk to Alexis sooner rather than later. There are details that have to be worked out. I just …
Not yet. It’s too raw. Too new. Too painful. I’m still bleeding from a wound that hasn’t had the chance to start scabbing over, and this is me putting pressure on the arterial bleed until I can stitch it shut.
A soft tap sounds at the door, and I don’t know if it’s been five minutes or five hours since I turned off my phone. Probably somewhere in between.
Blinking, I grunt out a gruff, “Come in.”
Lauren’s face pokes around the door, sympathy radiating from her. I don’t want it, though. I want to be alone with my pain, a wounded bear hiding in a cave. I don’t want sympathy or pity or comfort.
I want Alexis.
But that’s impossible.
“How are you doing?” she asks softly.
I grunt again. A nonresponse.
“Yeah. I kinda figured. What’s your preferred method of dealing with heartbreak? Ice cream? Liquor? Both? We could do like spiked root beer floats.” She gets a contemplative look on her face like she’s working out her own recipe for that in her head. “That actually sounds really, really good,” she murmurs, confirming that she’s distracted herself with her own comfort food suggestions.
“I’m fine, Lauren. Thanks for trying. But I just want to be left alone.”
She gives me what Brendan calls her ball-busting look, and my own balls retract inside my body in self-defense. “Cut the shit, Colt. If you really wanted to just be alone, you could’ve gone to a hotel. Instead you called your brother and drove up here. You need people who care about you nearby. There’s nothing wrong with that. And I know that both of your brothers like to try to drown their problems, so I’m assuming you do too, I just don’t know your liquor of choice. So if you really want me out of your hair, tell me, I’ll get it for you, and you can drink yourself into oblivion all by yourself. But one of us will be checking in on you to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit or give yourself alcohol poisoning. Got it?”
I almost want to salute her, but I resist the urge. “Yes, ma’am,” I say instead.
“That’s right you yes, ma’am me.” She crosses her arms. “Vodka? Tequila? Whiskey?”
“Vodka.”
She nods once and disappears, leaving the door cracked behind her. And when she returns, she has Brendan in tow, carrying three shot glasses. She unscrews the cap of top-shelf vodka and pours out three shots and passes them around. I knock mine back without ceremony, and Lauren refills it without judgment.
And I have to admit, at least to myself, that she’s right. I don’t exactly want to be alone. I