Twenty Six

Addy

At first, Addy was confident she might regret this. She’d flipped around fifteen miles outside of Mesquite after calling the phone number the police department had given her. Once at the hotel, she’d seen Jay, standing on the other side of the street with a cigarette in his mouth and a scowl on his face. Every reason to turn around and go home screamed in her ear, but even then, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She’d already seen him. There was no way she could leave now. But even then, she’d fought with herself for a moment, wondering if it would be better for her to leave, to turn around and never look back. But now, as he held her in his arms, it wasn’t just comfortable—it was exactly where she wanted to be.

“You’re an idiot,” he said in her ear. His breath tickled her neck, and she buried her face in her chest, never wanting to let go. “You are such an idiot.”

“You’re telling me.” He smelled of cigarette smoke and sweat, and she wanted to drink the familiarity of it in. She let her head rest against his chest, never wanting to let go, wondering if they could just stay like this forever. Forget Laurel. Forget the cops. Forget everything. But she knew they couldn’t. This mess wasn’t over yet.

“This could be dangerous, Addy,” Jay said. He held her out, his eyes meeting her, and brushed a strand of her hair behind one ear. “I had only planned up to here. Now, this is really happening. This is real.”

Vegas nudged them with his wet nose, not understanding, only concerned with the attention he was not getting.

“It’s okay.” She raised her fingers to his lips and smiled. “We’ll figure it out.

She didn’t know if they would figure it out or not, but at that moment, she didn’t care. She was with Jay, and that’s all that mattered. When she was with him, she was complete. It was that simple.

Addy stood on her tiptoes and kissed him again, embracing the feeling of warmth that traveled through her body. She knew that staying on the road to home would have been the better idea, the safer one. But the thought of never seeing Jay again had shattered her heart into pieces. It had dawned on her somewhere in the stupid desert between Las Vegas and Lakewood that she didn’t care what happened to her anymore—so long as she was with him when it did.

“Well, she’s here,” Jay said, taking her hand in his and removing his sunglasses. “I just saw her.”

“Good.” Addy pocketed her phone and took the sunglasses from him, placing them over her own eyes. “Let’s do this.”

He couldn’t be angry with her. He couldn’t even be annoyed. She had come back. After everything he did to her, after everything he was, she had come back to him, and she still wanted to be with him.

Jay rested his elbows on the restaurant tabletop, grasping his hands together in front of him. Sitting across from him was Addy, all smiles and buzzed from the wine she’d consumed. She had insisted on lunch first, as though it was the most important thing to do while they were in Vegas. Outside the glass doors of the diner, Jay kept a firm eye on the mutt he had tied to the mailbox. It didn’t matter that he had never been an animal person—the dog was still his. No, theirs.

“So, tell me again,” she insisted. “I want to make sure we do this right.” She picked up the wine glass, smiling kindly at the server who delivered their appetizer to the tabletop. Jay watched her walk away, overly aware that they would have to keep each conversation on the down-low.

“It’s going to be complicated,” he said. He leaned forward, picking at the pieces of bread in the basket. “We need the police at the hotel, but we need to find Laurel’s room first.” He hesitated, feeling wary. Even though she had found him and come back to him, he was terrified that something would go wrong and Addy would get hurt. What would he do if Addy got hurt because of him? How in the hell could he live with himself then?

“We don’t know what room she’s in, Jay,” Addy said. “I don’t think it’s going to be as simple as asking for it, either. Some places can be kind of weird about the confidentiality thing.”

He looked over at her, taking her hand in his. Her skin was soft. Comforting.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

Addy swallowed once, and then nodded, her free hand curling around the glass of wine.

“Of course,” she said, and he believed her. If she didn’t trust him, he knew she wouldn’t have come back.

“Good,” he said. He squeezed her hand and looked over his shoulder. “Listen carefully—here’s what we’re going to do.”