Page 39
Story: The Lemon Drop Kid
I knew he was sorry. I knew he meant it when he said he would take it all back if he could. He couldn’t be more sorry than he already was. I could see that.
What do you think he should have done? Made a run for the border with you? The Jacksons have been chasing bad guys as long as the Bredahls have been baking cookies. Cop is in his DNA.
Dax had a point.
We hadn’t been together long. Long enough that I felt Raleigh should have known me better. But I’d known Astrid all my life, and because I knew about the affair and I smelled her perfume that night, I’d come to the conclusion that she had to have killed Peyton.
Granted, I’d kept my mouth shut. I hadn’t tried to find more evidence in order to bury her. I hadn’t told her that as much as I loved her, she was no longer my sister.
My eyes stung, remembering.
It hurt. It was always going to hurt. It was always going to be there. That betrayal. But I did still love him. And the idea of life without him was even more painful than the betrayal.
That was the truth.
Sure, maybe in time, I’d get over him.
It didn’t feel like it.
Either way, Dax was correct about how good it had been between us. How easy and right. How it had all fallen into place that first night at Cutter’s Mill. Like we had known all our lives that eventually it was going to be me and Raleigh.
I wiped my eyes, rose, and opened the door to the bedroom.
Raleigh was sitting on the sofa, bent forward, head in his hands. He had taken off his jacket but was otherwise still dressed. At the sound of the bedroom door, he was on his feet in one quick movement. He jerked out, “Hey, would you have an extra blanket?”
Even across the room, I could see his eyes were red.
My heart shrank a couple of sizes. “Raleigh—”
I went to him, he put his arms out automatically, hugged me when I stepped into that protective circle.
“I can’t—”
“I know, Caz. It’s okay.”
I raised my head, met his gaze. “No. I keep telling myself we can’t—I can’t—get past this. But I still love you. I justdo.”
He kissed my forehead, held me with gentle strength, not asking for anything, just there.
Probably confused as hell. But definitely there.
“Can we just…lie down like we used to? Just be close. I think that’s one of the things I used to miss the most.”
I barely heard his, “Yeah, of course.” He said more clearly, “I miss that, too.”
We went into the bedroom, and I turned off the overhead light, darkness falling like a stage curtain dropping. We undressed in the moonlit shadows, climbed into the bed and moved into each other’s arms. It was as if those eleven months had never happened, as if they’d passed in the blink of an eye.
“I can’t talk anymore tonight,” I said.
“No. Me neither. We need to sleep.” He tucked my head against his chest, rested his chin on my hair. Kind of heartbreaking how easy and familiar it was. But also, I felt the first peace I’d known since I’d climbed out of this bed to go into work that final day.
It was possibly the best sleep I’d ever had.
Certainly, the best sleep I’d had in eleven months.
I slept until nine and probably would have continued sleeping, if somewhere in a confused dream about finding Freyja in cell 3B6 I hadn’t heard Raleigh say clearly, “Holyshit.”
My eyes popped open.
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