Hearts the Last Beat (Angel Fire #6) - Ellie Masters Page 0,71
Insanity is quiet. I insist I drive. That way, I can pretend I’m focused on the road and can’t talk. When we pull up outside Insanity, I jump out of the car and grab my purse.
“So, I guess I’ll see you later tonight?” It’s a test. Part of me says I really am leaping to conclusions and should give Spike the benefit of the doubt.
I’m actually seething because Spike didn’t say a word to me the entire drive back. His head was buried in his phone and the flurry of text messages flashing back and forth.
He gets out of the car and moves around to the driver’s side. “I’ll probably be gone until morning. I’ll catch you then?” His eyes sparkle, and it almost looks like he’s going to miss me.
Miss me?
When he’s going to… No. He’s running to—another woman. And she’s having a baby. His baby?
Is it possible I’ve misread everything? Am I nothing more than a casual fling? Something to pass the time?
He leaves me, spinning out as he speeds away, while my heart breaks.
Twenty-Six
Angel
What I do is sheer madness, but it’s happening. I’ve turned into a crazy stalker. Envy burns through my veins with venom and fire, twisting me up from the inside out. Beneath all of that is this pathetic, strangled hope that I’m terribly wrong, that what I heard isn’t what I think.
Love you too, Lucy. Miss you. Can’t wait to see you.
He told that woman he loved her. He missed her. Every hateful word drives into my heart, stabbing and cutting and ripping me apart.
I thought Spike loved me. That maybe it wasn’t too much to think that he might love me back. I guess I was wrong. I was so very wrong.
No denying the intimacy of her words. Nobody uses Spike’s real name. I don’t know if anyone knows it. I had to dig to find it, snooping around like a crazy woman for details on the man I love. I’ve been in his arms, in his bed. I shared my most intimate self, and yet I had to hunt down his real name.
I feel like a fool.
Like a crazy stalker, driving two cars behind him as he winds his way through the California hills, kind of fool.
Bright and beautiful, like most days, today the beauty of California mocks me. It’s all too damn perfect while my life falls apart.
For hours, I trail behind him. He stops for gas, fills up, while I eye the gas gauge of my car. I’ll need to fill up soon, but I can’t do that at the gas station, or he’ll spot me. I hope we get wherever he’s going soon, or I’ll be stranded on the side of the road with a broken heart and no gas.
As the needle pegs Empty, we enter a modest residential community. I slow down, placing more distance between our cars, and pray he doesn’t notice. Spike pulls up to a one-story stucco house with a tiled roof, a manicured lawn, and flowerbeds overflowing with color. When he gets out of the car, my heart squeezes in pain.
Who is Lucy? What does she mean to him?
The front door opens and a woman not much older than myself walks out. The moment she sees Spike, her entire face lights up. She clasps her hands in front of her swollen belly as a yellow Labrador races out of the house, making a beeline for Spike.
The dog dances around him, butt wiggling, tail wagging, tongue licking Spike’s face as he squats down to pet the dog. The dog jumps up, places his front paws on Spike’s shoulders, and wriggles into his arms. A smile fills his face as he lifts the dog, nuzzling it with soul-shattering familiarity.
If I had any hopes of this being a casual thing, that dog proves how wrong I am. Spike’s greeted like one of the family, but I know there’s no sister in his family. Cousin, maybe?
Please let this be a cousin.
Spike puts the dog down and opens his arms. From where I’m parked, I can’t hear a word, not that I don’t roll the window down with the hopes of something reaching my ears.
Lucy approaches Spike, and I grit my teeth. My hand flies to my belly to quell the uneasy rumbles there. Like a train wreck, I can’t look away. He holds his arms out. Lucy approaches with a smile that beams with familiar intimacy. When he scoops her into his arms, a tremor shakes me. My