My legs go weak and I stumble. My uncle releases his hold on my shoulder and I drop to my knees. Amy takes a single step toward me, but Tyler holds her back.
That single step cracks the ice that formed over my heart. It’s a tiny fissure in the impenetrable wall protecting their club and their friends. A minuscule action that means maybe there is a sliver of friendship I haven’t destroyed. No matter what it takes, I’ll fix this. I owe these people that. Doesn’t matter if I have to expose myself and my past, somehow I will make amends. Not because I believe there will ever be a place for me here again, but because I owe them for the friendship and kindness they showed to me. The love that Alex showed me.
Sharp, icy shards shoot through my chest. I gasp for air.
Oh fuck.
I love him.
Eighteen
ALEX
Fuck Stone.All I want to do is get back to my normal routine. Build out the condos, work on the second phase of the resort. Pretend this weekend never. Fucking. Happened.
But here I am, walking into some fancy pants lawyer’s office that’s gonna cost me every dime I have saved to do nothing because there’s nothing to be done. Sheriff Littlejohn, Alyss’s dad, SJ’s uncle, has no authority over me in Colorado. And I ain’t never stepping foot in Texas again no matter how much I miss my momma and my family.
Whatever ruse they had going, Sarah Jane and her uncle, is a big fat zero. The consent form, the fact that she’s a legal adult—I’m not sure how the sheriff convinced the local authorities to do a wellness check. Doesn’t matter. They cooked up a big nothin’ burger. I hope they choke on it.
The receptionist shows me to a conference room with oil paintings on the walls and cherry wood furniture. “Would you like a water, Mr. Craig.”
I tell the guy no.
“Mr. Litchfield will be with you momentarily.”
Lawyer word, “momentarily.” In a minute, shortly, in a sec. Those are words I can afford. I can’t afford “momentarily.” I should get up and walk out right now.
But the door opens and a sporty looking guy in dress slacks and a button down with the sleeves rolled up walks in. “Mr. Craig?”
I stand up and offer my hand. “Alex.”
“Alex, I’m Zach. Simon gave me a brief rundown of what happened this weekend but I want to hear the story from you.”
“I’m not here about what happened this weekend. Not really. There’s no charges, nothing they can do to me. But my friends, practically family, insisted I talk to you about what happened in Texas ten years ago to see if you can help with that.”
He indicates a chair for me to sit. “Okay if I take some notes?”
There’s a yellow tablet and a pen on the table I didn’t notice before. I shrug. “Sure.”
We sit. I take a deep breath. This guy looks like someone I should be catching a ball game with, not telling my darkest secret. But I don’t want to go home and admit I chickened out. “Ten years ago, I got accused of rape.”
Zach doesn’t flinch and he doesn’t write that down.
“I was eighteen. My girlfriend was three days away from her seventeenth birthday. It was graduation, for me. She still had another year. Her dad caught us in the hay barn. And since he’s the sheriff of the town I grew up in, well…”
Zach makes a couple scratches on the pad.
“How long had you been dating?”
“Couple years.”
“Having sex the whole time?”
I swallow hard. “No. First time.”
“Her mom and dad knew you two were dating?”
“Yep. Been to their house multiple times for Sunday dinner after church. They came to my football games. Alyss was a cheerleader.”
