Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk #3) - Samantha Young Page 0,115
could feel it thudding wildly. “I can exist without you, Dahlia. But I can’t live without you. Don’t make me.”
Fury hummed in my veins as I switched off the TV. Ian Devlin had given a grief-stricken statement to the news about how he believed the sheriff’s department and a certain detective were not only failing in their pursuit of the criminal who had murdered his son but were daring to blame the corruption inside the sheriff’s department on him.
Bastard.
It was on national news.
Deep concern for Michael suffused me. After I’d left his house that morning, unable to answer his plea to love him, I hadn’t been able to get the look on his face out of my head.
For once, instead of locking that shit up tight, I’d gone to Bailey. She no longer slept at the inn but had shacked up with Vaughn in his stunning, multimillion-dollar beach house.
Vaughn had answered the door in his pajamas, the scowl of annoyance he wore disappearing at the sight of me disheveled and tearstained on his doorstep. Ushering me in as Bailey hurried downstairs in her robe, Vaughn had made us tea and then discreetly disappeared back upstairs so I could spill my guts to my best friend.
Afterward, I fell asleep on their couch.
When I woke up, it was to Bailey waving coffee under my nose. She told me Vaughn had gone to the hotel, even though it was a Sunday and he and Bailey typically spent the day together. Bailey switched on the news while I nibbled toast and seethed over Ian Devlin.
“I called the girls. They’re on their way over.”
I turned my irritation to her. “Why?”
“Because I feel out of my depth here.” Her features were strained. “I don’t know what I can say to convince you to let go of this spiritual promise you’ve made to your sister, for lack of a better phrase. But I think Jessica might be able to help.”
“So why not only call her?” I was petulant, vulnerable, now that my deepest fears were out in the world.
Bailey turned pensive. “Because you’re right about Emery. Something isn’t right about her situation, and I hope that if you and Jess trust her enough with your history, then maybe one day she’ll trust us with hers.”
“Two birds, one stone,” I muttered.
“If I had a deep, dark past, you know I’d share it in a heartbeat to help her out. Fortunately, my life has been rather blessed.”
I shot her a disbelieving look. “Your boyfriend of ten years cheated on you. Stu Devlin assaulted you, and then your sister tried to sell your inn out from beneath you.”
Bailey waved her hand. “That’s child play compared to what you and Jess have been through.”
Despite my reluctance to share with Emery and Jess, I couldn’t help but admit that I was curious about Jessica’s past.
While we waited for the girls, I washed up and borrowed yoga pants and a T-shirt from Bailey. The yoga pants were a little too long and the T-shirt a little too tight across the chest, but it would have to do. Feeling marginally more human, I made my way downstairs and discovered Emery and Jessica had arrived.
They watched me with round eyes filled with curiosity and concern.
“Let’s get this over with.” I flopped down on an armchair with more nonchalance than I felt. “Get comfy ladies.” I gestured to the enormous L-shaped couch.
Once they were settled, I pushed through my fears, my nerves, and reminded myself this was Jess and Emery. I could trust them. Bailey believed I could trust them too.
Now I’d opened up to Michael, I was desperate for someone to tell me they understood why I believed I owed Dillon. Michael hadn’t understood. Emphatically not. Bailey didn’t say it in so many words, but I had a feeling she didn’t understand it either.
So I told Jess and Emery the whole story. Beginning with meeting Michael, loving him while I was with his best friend, Dillon’s involvement, our betrayal, her accident, her death, my mother, my drinking, Bailey’s rescue … all of it. Thankfully, I told it without tears. It seemed I’d used them all up with Michael.
I told them about last night. My confession. My penance.
The sounds of the gulls flying above the sea outside filled the living room, along with the gentle lap of the water against the bollards that held the living room balcony up. My friends remained silent.