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CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

arden

“Do you want to talk about it?” Carter asks five minutes into our silent drive.

I’m staring out the window, glaring at the world because it can’t seem to stop stinging me. I’m tired. Can’t it see that? Does it want me to completely lose it? Because I’m getting there, and I’d prefer to keep my sanity.

“Which part? My little panic attack at my workplace or the fact that I bought into all of your shit and let you sleep with me?” I slowly roll my head against the window to look at him.

He stares straight ahead, jaw set. A tiny muscle at the back keeps pulsing, like he’s trying his best to keep a cap on his anger. I’m not sure what he has to be mad about. I’m the one who looks like an idiot. I’m the one he made a complete and utter fool of.

“I’m going to give you a break here because something is clearly wrong,” he says after a second, his tone even. “But we’re not doing this shit, alright? We’re not being those people.”

“What people?”

“People who don’t stand a fucking chance,” he bites out, glancing over at me. “If you have questions, ask them or let me explain, but don’t go beating me down because you’re upset.”

“I’m not beating you down,” I snap, pushing myself from the door. I glare at the side of his face until he shoots me a tired look that sets my anger ablaze. “I’m reacting to a very real interview of a woman who is painting me as a fucking mistress! ”

Carter winces as I explode. He opens his mouth to speak, but I keep going. Blame it on my daddy issues, but it’s just my bruised ego. There isn’t enough room in this vehicle for the whole dying dad thing to come into play yet.

“We had a deal,” I remind him, my tone lethal.

“A deal that I abided by,” he bites back, head snapping in my direction. He leans back against his seat with a deep sigh, his arm draped over the steering wheel. “A deal that I plan on continuing to keep, Arden. Give me the benefit of the doubt, for fuck’s sake.”

“Did you see that video before you left this morning?” I ask, swallowing the ball of rage in my throat.

He stills, eyes sliding back to the road. It’s quiet for one second, then another, and then far too many seconds pass, painting the answer out for me. Yes. He saw the video before he scurried out of my bed. He heard all the things that woman said right after he slept with me, and he still ran off.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I was trying to get ahead of it,” he says quietly.

“You’re such a liar,” I scoff, shaking my head. I fall back against the window, letting out a little, disappointed breath.

Silence stretches between us. We fly down the road in the darkness, the streetlights illuminating our glares every few seconds. I’m mortified. I trusted this guy to honour his word, something I truly expected him to do.

“Her name is Irina.”

“Carter,” I warn .

“Irina Coasta.”

I know her name. I know her face. I would be able to identify her voice in a room full of people.

One video, one moment in my life, and look at the impact it had.

Do men realize that when they do the things that they do?

How kissing another pair of lips will have us clammering up every time we see someone in public with the same cupid’s bow?

How running their fingers through another head of hair will have us staring in the mirror for hours, criticizing every strand of our own?

Do they understand the fallout? How it messes with our heads? How it changes us?

“I didn’t sleep with her,” he continues calmly.

I stiffen a bit, listening, but continue to glare out the window.

“I have never slept with her. Reno has. Even before that idiot took the craziest woman in the world to bed, she’s been around.

She’s a lurker, Arden. She hangs around the team.

Ask any of the guys and they’ll have an Irina Coasta story. ”

I wonder if that’s true. He’s had enough time to create a pretty fluffy story with his teammates, if I were to ask. I make a mental note to bring this woman up to Penny. Penny would never lie for Carter. She’d never fabricate something like this just because he’s Declan’s friend.

“When the whole thing came out about me having a girlfriend, Boss and Lowesy worried that she might take it and run with it. That if you hadn’t agreed, she would have painted herself as my other half in the press.

She’s not well, Arden. I’ve never slept with her, okay?

Not before you, and after you? Do you really think I’d do that to you? ”

I swallow, slowly turning to look at him. He’s still glaring at the road, but I study his profile anyway. He looks genuine. He always does, though. I don't want to believe he’s a liar, but come on. What kind of woman would make up a whole fake life on a world-famous podcast ?

Yet still, I give him a damn chance to convince me otherwise. I like him far too much for him to wind up being a cliche.

“Why would she make this up when it can be disproven?”

“Can it be?” Carter asks, glancing at me.

“She’s in a lot of pictures. She’s always around the team.

Almost every single time we’re at Icebox, she’s there.

It is going to be my word against hers. The only thing I have on my side is that the team is more than aware that she’s nuts, and they can back me up on it. ”

I sigh, running my hand over my face.

“And I have a Lemmy.”

“A Lemmy?” I ask, dropping my hand.

“Eleanor Lemon,” he explains, like that should make any sense to me.

“Another woman in this equation? Great. I’m fairly certain the calculator is going to combust with the amount of us in bed with you.”

“She’s my lawyer,” Carter clarifies, ignoring the jab. “She’s damn good, too. That’s where I went this morning. To talk to her. I wanted to be able to come back to you with the truth, and to be able to tell you how I’m going to fix this.”

He turns his head to look at me, sparkly eyes flooded with worry. Damn. He’s being honest, isn’t he? I blew up on him because he has a stalker, and he let me.

“You promise?” I ask.

Carter dips his chin. “I’d never do that to you, Red. Cross my heart.”

A long pause seeps into the space between us.

I spend that time staring at the face that I’ve grown to trust, hoping to god that he’s being sincere.

I want to believe him. Not only because I’m certain if he was caught in this lie, he would have owned it by now, but because it seems so out of character for the man I know.

He doesn’t behave this way. He isn’t a man who goes back on his word.

I’ll concede for now. Trust him until given information that forces me not to. I’ll know if I’m a fool after one conversation with Penelope Sweeten.

“I can fight.”

He frowns. “What?”

“If you want her to get the message, I can fight. I know you might not expect that from me because I don’t have a rap sheet as long as yours, but give me a glass of whiskey and set me loose, and Irina won’t know what hit her.”

Carter’s frown slowly pulls into a smile. “You believe me?”

“Yeah, I do,” I say, nodding. I reach over the seat to place my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should have let you explain before I ripped you to shreds.”

“No, I get it,” Carter says. He takes one hand off the steering wheel, guiding my hand down his arm until he can wind his fingers with mine. “I’m not letting anyone ruin this, Red. Not even crazier women than you.”

I roll my eyes, breathing out a laugh. “You think this Lemmy woman will handle it?”

“I know she will,” he says confidently. He rests our intertwined hands in his lap as we pull off the highway toward his building. After a few moments, he glances at me again, his thumb brushing my hand. “So, what happened tonight?”

“I wasn’t expecting him to be there.”

“Not with that stupid fucking cop,” he snaps and then sucks in a breath, shaking his shoulders out as if attempting to smother his anger. “Before him.”

“He’s dying,” I explain, and his grip tightens on my hand. “It’s getting worse by the day. My sisters want me home.”

“Okay.” He nods .

“I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to breathe any air he’s still breathing.”

Carter is quiet for a moment and I wait for the judgement to come.

I wait for the reminder that he’s my dad, and at the end of the day, family is the most important thing in the world.

I wait for the implications that I’m a terrible monster for refusing to forgive a dying man, and that I’m going to hell for not giving him peace before he passes, while I still have the chance.

It doesn’t come.

“That’s your choice.”

Something in me softens. It melts. Relief washes over me. He believes me. He might not understand, but he trusts I know what’s best for me. He doesn’t care about the details. He doesn’t need them.

“It will destroy my sisters.”

“It will also destroy you if you do it for your sisters,” he reminds me as we approach a red light and slow to a stop. “They have each other. You protect yourself, alright? If you don’t want to go, if you think you’ll feel worse letting him make amends, don’t go.”

My grip on his hand is lethal. My throat bobs, my eyes burning with incoming tears.

He gets it.

He gets me.

“I can’t do it, Carter.”

He nods, a sad smile pulling on his lips. He lifts our joined hands up to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to mine. “Then don’t.”