“Stop.”
“Don’t feel guilty. You don’t have to feel bad about us. You never had to feel bad because we were meant to meet when and how we did. My suspicion… a guy like that? Posturing macho asshole? This isn’t the first time. Thinks he has to get endless amounts of tail to prove he’s a man. That shit only proves he’s a -”
“Please stop. Pleasepleaseplease.” She cradles her face in her hands and bows forward.
I stop, mid-rant, take a breath, and then say, “Okay, babe. We’ll plan to get your things later.”
She says nothing.
“Want me to stop at your mother’s?”
She shakes her head and lifts her phone from her pocket. I glance over and see she’s typing out a text.
“Amie?”
She’s still texting.
“I’m about to get on the highway and head home, baby, unless you give me your mother’s address.”
“It’s okay. We can go home.”
She keeps tapping away on the screen, likely oblivious to the fact she just called my place home.
But the bottom line is that it is her home. And she’s mine.
18
Amelia
My eyes bolt open. For a second I’m not sure where I am, but then it crashes down and snaps into place piece by piece.
Mason. Ivy. Witchcraft. Wolf. Shapeshifter. The ring ping. Rick. Done.
I’m in Mason’s bed. In Mason’s embrace. I’m the little spoon with my back plastered to his torso, and his beautifully corded forearm draped over my hip.
The sun streams through the windows in here and his warm breath keeps sweeping across the back of my head evenly. He’s sound asleep; it feels like a warm summer breeze.
The last thing I remember was thinking that the road was getting blurry as I stared at the windshield noting the sun was peeking over the horizon. I was feeling several emotions, but one of them was relief that I was starting a new day as a single woman. That’s the last thing I recall; obviously, knowing to my core that the Rick chapter of my life was closing. I fell asleep and as that’s the last thing I remember, it’s obvious that I miraculously slept through him bringing me inside his house, up all those stairs, and putting me in his bed, before wrapping himself around me. I’m a light sleeper so that’s pretty unlike me. There again… sorcery.
I’m still dressed, though he took my shoes and socks off. And he’s warm. Super warm. The soles of my feet are on his shins and for a change, my feet aren’t like ice cubes.
I texted my mother on the way here, telling her I was fine, that the wedding was off, and that I had plans to rescue Ivy today, though I figured Ivy might not be happy I did figure she was most likely alive and well, or well enough. I texted Mom it was a long story and I’d fill her in ASAP, and not to worry if she couldn’t reach me because I’m staying somewhere for the night that has shitty cell service, but I’ll call her tomorrow as soon as I can get back into civilization where there is a signal.
The text actually got through and she responded with a wow face emoji and asked if I needed anything. I told her to go back to sleep and not worry, that I’d handle things and get Ivy and the three of us would sit down and figure out what was next. I also told her to keep looking for clues about Aunt Nelle’s fortune teller.
My phone rang endlessly for the first hour on the road, actually. I ignored repeated calls from Rick and then a text came through.
Rick: Amelia, call me back. Or Texas me. Please. I don’t know what went wrong tonight don’t know who the guy was I need to talk to you’re. I love you. love much. Please call me. Or come home as soon as possible and we talk.
That text would’ve said drunk if I hadn’t seen with my own eyes that he was drunk.
I turned my phone off instead of responding.
I care more about the drunken driving than I do about the cheating. I don’t know the deal with the cheating, but I also don’t really care. Obviously Mason knows what he smelled and even if I didn’t believe him, the fact that Rick was out in the middle of the night for no good reason would’ve spoken volumes. But driving drunk? Not only did my ex, Blake, lose his parents to a drunk driver, giving me a front row seat to the carnage left of his life afterwards, but the fact that I work in a hospital means I regularly see the fallout of peoples’ stupidity, one of the common ones being because they get behind the wheel drunk or stoned. And he knows how I feel about it. I don’t care if it’s six feet, six blocks, or whatever. You don’t get behind the wheel when you’re impaired. And Rick was smashed drunk. He has ride share apps on his phone. If it was six blocks away, why didn’t he just walk? Why the hell was he driving? Was it because he saw I was home and got there as fast as possible for damage control because he was fucking somebody? Who lives six blocks away? No bars would’ve been open at that hour.