by Brenda Novak
“But if it’s anything too damning, why hasn’t she come forward before?”
“I told you—he’s in charge. I get the impression she’s even a little scared of Randy. It could be she’s trying to get it off her chest without having to be the one to instigate an investigation.”
“That makes sense.”
“She doesn’t want Randy and your father to blame her. She’s not as brave as you are.”
“I’m not sure you can call it brave. Maybe reckless.”
“This way, she can clear her conscience without having to do the dirty work. But you need more. You’ll have to get her to open up. Or... I don’t know if it’s smart for you to be the face of this thing. Maybe with what you’ve told me so far—your memories and Vickie saying she saw your father take the boat out that night—I can talk to my chief, see if he’d be willing to let me start an official investigation.”
“No, don’t go to him yet. I think we’ll get more doing things the way we are at the moment.”
“How do you figure?”
“I get the feeling people are willing to talk because it’s just me. They don’t believe I have the power to do anything to my father, that nothing will come of it, so they feel comfortable expressing their own worries and concerns about that night. It’s more like gossiping this way, seems fairly innocuous. But if we make it official, put what they say on the record, they could get spooked, clam up.”
“Depending on what Hadley knows, and if she’s willing to talk, that could change things.”
“I’m guessing she won’t open up easily. She might feel as though she’s gone as far as she can.” And Sloane knew what kind of shit would rain down on Micah if he stepped up to fight for her. “At least she’s given me hope that I’m not destroying any chance I may ever have to reconnect with my family for nothing.”
“At some point, we’re going to have to make the investigation official.”
“If I can get enough to take it in that direction. Anyway, we can talk about this later. I’m sorry to have bothered you so late.”
“Not a problem.”
“Micah?” she said, stopping him before he could hang up.
“What?”
“Did you ever hear from Paige?”
“No.”
“What’s going on with her?”
“I have no idea.”
“She couldn’t have known I was there...”
“She wouldn’t have walked away if she did. She would’ve raised hell.”
“In front of Trevor?”
“It’s happened plenty of times before—and for far less reason.”
She slid lower in the bed and pulled up the covers. “Does it bother you to think she’s seeing someone else?”
“Not at all.”
“What if...what if she’s not just hanging out with this guy? What if she’s sleeping with him?”
“I don’t care about that, either.”
He answered so quickly and was so resolute she couldn’t help but believe him. “You’re over her.”
“Sloane...”
“What?”
“You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted—in my bed or out of it,” he said and hung up.
* * *
Paige felt sick, dirty. She’d known she was making a mistake the second Sloane’s father started taking off her clothes, so she wasn’t sure why she’d let the whole thing continue. He’d been saying what she needed to hear, she supposed. How sexy she was. How he’d wanted her for a long time. How he was going to treat her better than any man she’d ever been with. He’d hit her up at a time when she had almost zero self-esteem. That Micah hadn’t been able to love her, and couldn’t even fake it, ate her up inside, made her feel she was destined to be overlooked by those who meant the most to her.
But that wasn’t all of it. If she was being honest, she’d done it to punish Sloane. She couldn’t compete with Sloane, had never been able to compete, and that made her hate her best friend almost as much as she loved her.
God, what kind of a person was she?
Paige held her shoes with one hand while scrubbing the other over her mouth in an effort to get Ed’s saliva off her face.
She glanced back at the house, which was dark now, from the front walkway and saw Ruger in the moonlight, watching her from the window with knowing eyes, and purposefully turned away. Ed had asked her to stay overnight. He’d said it was too late for her to go out, that he’d make her breakfast in the morning, but she could tell he didn’t really care if she stayed, wasn’t all that invested in her well-being. He’d gotten what he wanted. He was merely putting on a show with the nice talk—just as he’d been putting on a show while they were having sex, trying to act as though it was somehow more than him using her.
She was just another one of his conquests. Nothing more. But she couldn’t blame him entirely. She’d been using him, too—as a way to strike back at Sloane, which was crazy. What she’d done had only made her feel worse.
The act itself had seemed interminable. Finally, he’d climaxed, and then he’d dragged out all kinds of sex toys to use on her, and she hadn’t even wanted to be with him enough to enjoy taking her turn. She’d just played along so he wouldn’t know how repulsed she was, how badly she regretted the whole thing.
She wondered how many other women he’d used those toys on and nearly gagged.
How could she have stooped so low as to sleep with her friend’s father?
“Just hold yourself together. You can’t fall apart here,” she whispered, over and over, as she unlocked her car and tossed her shoes inside. She planned to stand in a hot shower and scrub until she felt clean again. But she didn’t drive home as she intended. By the time she turned out of the River Bottoms and reached town, she was shaking and crying so hard she could barely see to drive.
* * *
Banging on the door woke Sloane. At first, she was so disoriented she thought she’d slept in and the maid was hoping to clean the room. She was about to yell for her to come back later when she realized she’d only closed her eyes an hour ago. According to the alarm clock on the nightstand, it wasn’t yet midnight.
Was it Hadley? Had Randy found out she’d been by the motel?
“Coming!” she called so that whoever it was wouldn’t wake up the motel’s other patrons. She was afraid there’d been a fight between her brother and his wife or something else terrible, so she didn’t even bother to pull a robe or sweatshirt over her tank top and panties before rushing to the door and gazing through the peephole.
The lighting was poor outside, making it difficult to determine the identity of her visitor, but it looked like Paige.
She left the chain on but went ahead and cracked open the door.
Sure enough, it was Paige, just not the Paige Sloane was used to seeing. This Paige had mascara streaking down both sides of her face, her hair was mussed as if she’d just climbed out of bed, her clothes were wrinkled and she wasn’t wearing any shoes. “What happened to you?” Sloane cried and quickly removed the chain so that she could let her friend inside. “Are you okay?”
Paige was sobbing uncontrollably. Sloane had never seen her so upset. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Don’t tell me something’s happened to Trevor or Micah...”
“No, it isn’t that. It’s...it’s the guy I went out with tonight.”
“He didn’t attack you!”
Paige wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Worse.”
“What could be worse?”
“I slept with him.”
“And it was that terrible?”
“Yes, but it was also my own fault.”
“Who was he?”
She opened her mouth, closed it again, then shook her head. “I don’t want to say. Never mind. I shouldn’t have come here. I can’t tell you.”
> She turned to go, but Sloane caught her. “Of course you can tell me. You can tell me anything.”
“I wish I hadn’t let him touch me.” Covering her face, she broke down sobbing again. “I can’t believe I did. I’m such a terrible person.”
“Anyone can make a mistake, Paige. It’s been a hard year, which is why we have to be kind to each other and to ourselves.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand that you did something you regret.”
“Yes...”
“But if it’s over, done, you can’t take it back. So put it behind you and forget about it, because you’re not a terrible person.”
She looked up. “I am! I was glad when you left, Sloane. I wanted Micah more than anything. I took him even though I knew he loved you, and now...and now I’ve done this, too.”
Although stung by the admission that Paige was glad she’d left when she’d had such a hard time, especially that first year, Sloane couldn’t help feeling some compassion at the same time. “Calm down, okay?”
After pulling her to the bed, Sloane dragged the blankets up around her shoulders. It wasn’t cold, but Paige was trembling like a soaked kitten.
“I’ve screwed up my life,” she said. “Micah hates me. You hate me.”
“I’m sure Micah doesn’t hate you. And I don’t hate you, either.” Sloane was conflicted when it came to Paige, but hate was far too strong a word for someone she still wanted to love. “You were like a sister to me growing up. That type of thing goes deep and can’t be easily destroyed.”
Paige sniffed and wiped her face. “That’s why I reached out to you on Facebook last year. I wanted to reclaim what we once had. I thought it was a tragedy for us to let go of each other.”
“It would be a tragedy.” Sloane put an arm around her. “I can’t pretend I’m not hurt that you were glad when I left, but that was a long time ago.”
“And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”
Sloane rubbed her arm. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”
“You shouldn’t. You have no idea...”
“I know we’re friends, and that’s what friends do. Anyway, I already have. So about that guy you were with tonight...”
Paige blanched. “It was terrible.”
“Who was it?”
She stared at her feet without answering.
“Paige?”
She couldn’t seem to look Sloane in the eye. “Just someone I met,” she mumbled. “You don’t know him. I don’t even know why I slept with him. No, actually, I do. I needed someone to appreciate me for me and not want you instead, and I felt like he could give me that.”
Any residual anger Sloane felt immediately melted into pity. “Oh, Paige...”
A fresh tear rolled down her cheek. “Pathetic, isn’t it?”
“It’s not pathetic. It’s sad. Obviously, you don’t know how special you are.”
“If I was special, Micah would never have left me.”
“That’s not true. Maybe you weren’t right for him, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be perfect for someone else.”
“You mean someone I don’t love?”
Sloane went into the bathroom to get some tissues. “Someone you do love,” she said when she returned. “You’ll find the right man, the right time, the right situation. You’ll see.”
Paige accepted the Kleenex. “Now I feel even worse.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re too generous. I came here so you could scream at me, tell me what a bad friend I’ve been. Instead you try to comfort me.”
“We can’t always pick who we love.” Sloane sat beside her again. “I’ve never been your enemy, Paige.”
“I don’t need you to be,” she said, her voice nasal from her crying jag. “I’m my own worst enemy. Wanting someone you can’t have does something to you, Sloane, especially when you’ve given that person the very best you’ve got.”
Sloane held her hair back so she could see her face. “You’re going to get through this. You’ll find what you need. You’ll see.”
“That’s just it. I need Micah. I feel like I’ll die if I don’t get him back.”
That was the last thing Sloane wanted to hear. It shoved her into the interloper’s position, made her feel guilty for her own feelings for Micah. “He’s a good guy.”
“You’re a famous model. You can have anyone. But he’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Sloane said nothing but the comfort she was offering suddenly became awkward, mechanical, fake. Just when she was beginning to feel some closeness with Paige, they approached the same old barrier.
“So I should forget about tonight?” Paige asked, thankfully changing the subject.
“Yes. It’s over. Don’t think of it again.”
“I doubt I can let it go that easily.”
“Because you’re upset and you’re exhausted. Things will look a lot better in the morning.”
“Okay.” She leaned over to rest her head on Sloane’s shoulder. “I’ll be a better friend to you from here on out. I promise.”
“I know you will.” Sloane couldn’t change how she felt about Micah, so as off-putting and upsetting as it may be, it could be the same for Paige, and that made it wrong to hold her feelings against her.
“Can I stay here with you for a few more minutes?” Paige asked. “I can’t face going home to my empty house. I’ll just relive what happened tonight, over and over, if I do.”
“You don’t have to go home at all. You can stay with me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Paige managed a wobbly smile as Sloane rearranged the bedding so she could cover her up. “It’s not the end of the world, okay? Somehow you’ll get through this difficult time.” She hoped they all would... “You used protection tonight, though, right?”
“You mean condoms?”
“Or something else.”
“I’m not on the pill. I haven’t had sex with anyone in ages. But he told me he’s had a vasectomy.”
For Paige’s sake, Sloane hoped that was true. She almost said she should’ve made him use a condom, anyway, but she didn’t. It was too late now, and Paige felt bad enough as it was. “Good.”
Paige closed her eyes only to open them again. “Sloane?”
“What?”
“I’ll get everything figured out.”
“Of course you will.” She had to. Trevor was depending on her.
Sloane turned off the light. Then she silenced her phone, in case Micah called in the morning—she didn’t want that to happen when Paige was around—and crawled in on the other side of the bed. She assumed Paige was asleep. That was how exhausted her friend had seemed. But a few minutes later, she heard Paige’s voice.
“Remember how often we stayed with each other when we were kids?”
“Almost every weekend.”
“I’m so glad you’re back in town. This is like old times, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Sloane adjusted her pillow. “The good old days,” she said, but it made her sad to think that, because of their feelings for Micah, their relationship would probably never be the same.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In the morning, after Sloane hugged Paige goodbye, she spent the day avoiding Micah. As she’d known ten years ago, she couldn’t see him, couldn’t be around him, or she’d want him. There was no getting past that. He had been a huge amount of help, and she was grateful, so she had returned several text messages from him. But she’d given only minimal responses, especially when he texted that he’d stopped by Paige’s after taking Trevor to school to make sure she was safe and found her coming home in the same clothes she’d had on the night before.
Sloane wasn’t about to tell him what Paige had done. She didn’t want
to give him any reason not to get back together with her, if there was even a chance of that. Then she’d be to blame if Trevor couldn’t have his father in the house. Why would she create an obstacle for their family when she wasn’t going to be in town for more than a few months?
Since she cared for everyone involved, especially Micah, she was trying not to make a mess of everything while she was in Millcreek. And she had plenty to keep her busy and distracted.
She’d been trying to reach Hadley, to ask about the letter she’d found under her door. Micah had given her Hadley’s cell phone, but it was disconnected. When she told him that, he said she must just recently have gotten a new one. That meant Sloane had only her address. She’d gone by Randy’s house a couple of times in the middle of the day, when Randy should be at the car dealership, but no one had answered her knock either time. Only when Sloane had asked the neighbor, who was out getting his mail on her last visit, did she learn that her sister-in-law had taken Misty to Arkansas to visit her parents.
No wonder Hadley had felt brave enough to leave that note; she’d been heading out of town for ten days.
After returning to her motel for the second time, Sloane tried to track down Katrina. As the woman who dated her father after her mother disappeared, Katrina might know something. Micah had been able to provide Katrina’s last known address and a work number but neither of those turned out to be current. Katrina had worked for a series of car dealerships over the years, been married and divorced twice and had lived all over the state, so she wasn’t easy to track down.
It was a relief when Sloane called a dealership in Dallas, and the woman who answered the phone explained that although Katrina no longer worked there, her stepbrother, Toby Squires, was a salesman. She put him on the line right away and as soon as Sloane told Toby who she was, he gave her Katrina’s phone number. She didn’t even have to explain why she wanted it. He didn’t seem to care; he only wanted to be helpful.
After that, she managed to reach Katrina and set up a lunch date in Fort Worth, where Katrina was once again living. Her father’s former girlfriend had been surprisingly friendly, but Sloane suspected her celebrity was part of the reason. Katrina had been quite taken with the fact that Sloane had modeled for some of the biggest luxury brands in the business. On the phone, she kept saying things like, “I’ve told all my friends that I knew you when you were just a little girl.” Maybe that was why Toby had readily provided her number; he’d heard of Sloane. Or he was trying to curry favor. He’d texted her afterward to see if she’d go out with him, but she’d politely declined, saying she wasn’t going to be in the state long enough.
