I was.
I didn't deserve her. I never had. And she sure as hell didn't deserve what I'd put her through. I'd known her,reallyknown her, just a few weeks. But I'd loved her for years. Not that she ever knew.
These past weeks, I kept waiting for her to put two and two together, to come up with my face, to remember. But she never did. And I never told her.
"My guess?" Bishop said, "She's at work."
I gave him a look. Why the hell would she be there? To forget what happened? To forget about me? She sure as hell didn't need the money. That much was obvious.
"No." I shook my head. "She's not there. Not after what happened."
At the memory, I felt a dull, deep pain that had nothing to do with my bloodied wrists or bruised knuckles. God, I'd been such an asshole. Why?
But I knew why. I'd been so damned determined to not be played that I'd fucked up the only thing that had ever given me peace.
Peace, now that was a foreign concept. I used to watch her when she slept, curled on her side, or curled in my arms. The memory made me want to scream.
I blew out a breath. Sleep. That had been scarce too. Until Chloe.
For her sake, I should walk away for good. She'd be better off. She already had it all – looks, personality, probably a nice family too. Not that she'd ever brought me around to meet them. I knew why. She was ashamed. And who could blame her? Shit, at this point, I was ashamed of myself.
And now she was gone. But for how long?
Best-case scenario, she was at some friend's house, telling her what an asshole I was. Worst case – My stomach twisted. I didn't want to think about it.
"Just in case," Bishop said, "we'd better find a new drop point."
But what if shewasat work? Would I be able to see her? Make sure she was okay?
"No," I said. "The drop point stays."
"So youwanther to see this thing? Is that it?"
I shrugged.
"You know what you're acting like? You're like some cat who just tore up the couch," he said. "So what you do is drag home a couple of dead mice and fling 'em at the owner's feet. Look, a present. But I'm telling you, it's a mistake."
"Fuck you," I said. "Our mice aren't dead."
"Yeah. And you soundrealhappy about that." He gave me a serious look. "But about that cat, you know what happens, right?" He paused. "The owner freaks. Especially if it's a girl."
"Yeah? So what's your point?"
"If Chloe's there," he said, "she's gonna freak."
"No, she won't. Besides, she deserves to see this." A cold rage washed over me. "After what those guys did to her."
"Almostdid to her," Bishop said. "And even that –" He shrugged. "–wasn't as bad as we first thought."
I looked over at him. "You can't be fuckin' serious. Wasn't bad? They tried to drag her into their car, for fuck's sake. You think that's alright?"
"I never said that. I'm just saying, it's too personal. You're all twisted up."
I glared over at him. "Wouldn'tyoube?"
He turned to study the house. "No."
"Bull."
