her shoulder, a pensive look in her eyes. “Got it,” she echoes.
With that, she closes the door, and I pace the newly cleaned floor. Hitting the speed dial button on my phone, I leave the voice mail message I had no intention of leaving three minutes ago.
“Hey, Kristina, it’s Julian. I’m not going to be able to make it today. Something’s come up that needs my attention.”
Thirty minutes.
That’s how long it takes to drive from our door in the Hollywood Hills to the Santa Monica Pier. Part of me hates myself for not trusting her judgment, but after the stunt she pulled at Griffith Park, and the lingering threat of her father’s presence, I give zero fucks about it.
I’d rather beg for her forgiveness than grieve for her loss.
As I park my Corvette, I close my eyes at the images flashing through my mind. Fuck, my chest hurts. So much that I find myself clutching at the phantom pain as I close the door—as if it’ll make it stop.
It won’t.
The only thing that’ll stop the constant pressure in my chest will be a bullet between Daniel Dalton’s eyes. I don’t care if it’s fired by my hand or the LAPD, but this world doesn’t need that asshole in it to turn. In fact, it’ll be a happier place when he takes a seat in hell.
“Just couldn’t trust me, huh?”
I glance up, shocked to see that at some point during my internal rant, I crossed the street and am now standing at the fence.
Ty leans against a wooden post with his arms folded across his massive chest and his fingers tucked under his biceps. Slinging a booted heel back, he hooks on the railing and chews on a straw from a discarded fast food drink.
“This has nothing to do with you, man.” I scan the crowded beach for her familiar raven hair.
I meant what I said. My being here has nothing to do with my trust in Ty. Phoebe affectionately calls him a big, sweet lug, but if someone threatened her, that big, sweet lug would snap someone’s neck.
I trust him implicitly.
I just don’t trust Phoebe’s desperation, or Dalton’s ability to hide in plain sight.
The corner of Ty’s mouth lifts in a knowing smirk. “Whatever, dude. I’m not offended. If some psycho paternal freak was after my woman, I’d have the overprotective vibe thing going on too.” Pulling the straw from his mouth, he points it toward the beach, three hundred feet to the left. “She barely put the car in park before she bolted. I tried following her, and she told me to fuck off.”
I scratch the back of my head. “Well, at least she’s acting like her old self again.”
“She hasn’t moved since we got here. She just keeps running her hands through the sand and talking to herself like some…” He stops himself, his lips tightening.
He doesn’t have to say it. The words “crazy person” are always there like a cancer in our inner circle. It’s been almost five months since Tanna’s arrest, and for the most part, Ty has coped better than expected, considering how close they’d been. But, sometimes, his façade slips.
All of ours do.
At the risk of opening old wounds, I clasp him on the shoulder. “Have you talked to her?”
He shakes his head. “No. It wouldn’t be right.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think she lied, man,” I offer, my eyes pinned to where Phoebe is sitting cross-legged in the sand. “The real Tanna loved you. She still does.”
“What are you saying?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.
Pushing off the railing, I utter the words I never expected to say. “Call the hospital. Check on her. She has no one, Ty. If anyone’s going to reach through those personalities and bring the real Tanna back, it’s you.” I take a few steps before glancing over my shoulder. “It’s up to you. Nobody will think any less of you either way.”
With that, I leave him behind and make my way toward the round-bellied woman holding handfuls of gritty white sand as it falls through her fingers.
Sixteen
Phoebe
A small cry slips out as the sand falls between my fingers. Reaching beside me, I grasp the basket of strawberries settled in my lap.
God, this is hard.
It took all I had in me to not run back to the car and beg Ty to slam on the gas. But I came here for a reason. Hopefully, if I go through with it, I can rebuild some of the peace I’ve