The person who’s spent the past fourteen years of her life not trusting anyone but a few people, always expecting to be screwed over, is screaming at me that it was my father or Kade. While the girl who has fallen in love in Montana and reconnected with her father is tearfully reminding me that they’ve done nothing for me not to trust them.
But then, Kade has, hasn’t he? That voice inside my head is reminding me. He’s proven to be quick to judgment, to do whatever he thinks is right, no matter how ill-guided it is. Who’s to say he hasn’t done this, maybe trying to help me in some weird and misguided way.
“Montana…” Dakota doesn’t have to finish the sentence for me to know what she’s trying to say. That I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
“Don’t,” I protest, barely able to get the word past the lump in my throat.
“Okay,” she whispers soothingly.
I know she’ll be here for me no matter what. Even if it involves me doing something stupid. Not that I think calling Kade—the man who stole my heart and made me happier than ever before—to accuse him of spilling my secrets to the media, is the most asinine idea I ever had, but it’s probably not the smartest one either.
We make it to the hotel within five minutes. Thankfully it’s not on The Strip and away from all the noise of Las Vegas. I’m not sure I would have been able to deal with any of that right now.
I let Bob, who’s been giving me concerned glances but knew instantly not to broach the subject, and Dakota check us in. I’m standing back, ignoring everything going on around me, especially the stares and whispers from the other athletes already here and sharing the same hotel.
News travel fast in this business.
Not that anyone is brave enough to approach me. They never are. Many are the type to gossip behind my back and be sugary nice to my face.
Like I have so many times in the past, I block out everything around me. Unfortunately, that means I have no distraction from the thoughts torturing me. The merry-go-round of thoughts with no beginning or ending, just one long torturous cycle.
“We’re all checked in,” Dakota says worriedly while she hands me a key card. “We’re in room 387. Third floor.”
Without a word, I grab my things and walk toward the elevators. It feels like I’m walking down a tunnel where no sound reaches. Nothing but white noise around me. And when the doors to the elevator shut, there’s nothing.
Standing next to me, neither Bob nor Kota say a word. They’ve seen me shut down before, the worst probably after I took the fall for nearly killing Adam, and they know the drill. They know that’s how I work through emotional turmoil.
I don’t notice much of the room as I enter. It has two beds, a bathroom, and a TV mounted on the wall. My gaze is drawn to the balcony that’s overlooking beige Las Vegas and The Strip with its colorful and blinding lights standing out in stark contrast. The city as fake as some of the people in my life.
I hear Dakota place her luggage on the floor. I can feel her eyes on the back of my head, and I know she’s studying me. Trying to figure out if I’m about to lose it.
“Bob and I are going to get some food. We’ll be back in half an hour or so, okay?”
It’s been a weird day, going from happy to devastated and dreadful in the span of a few hours. But a feeling of unconditional love for the two people who never give up on me fills me and warms the ice-covered parts of me that threaten to take over. With two simple sentences, I’m reminded they’ll always understand. Giving me time to make a call I’m dreading but know I need to make to understand what is going on.
A call I need to make without someone else listening.
“Okay.”
I hear the door open and turn while calling Dakota’s name. She stops in the doorway and turns her head to look at me. “Thank you,” is all I need to say for her to understand I’m not only thanking her for today, for giving me space to do what I need to do, but for every day in the past eleven years she’s been there for me. The many days she spent picking up the pieces, watched me retreat or rage against the universe that give me a mother like Veronika, or wiped away the tears left behind by others.
Her smile is filled with sadness, for me and what we both know I’ll be facing the next few days and weeks.
She leaves without a word, the door closing softly behind her.
The quiet of the room surrounds me, giving me momentary peace.
I’m debating who to call first, Dad or Kade, to figure out what they did. I’m dreading either phone call, knowing nothing good will come from both conversations, when fate steps in and takes the decision out of my hand.
Kade’s name appears on my phone along with his ring tone, Kane Brown’s “Homesick.” Excitement and dread twist my stomach. I take a deep breath, trying to keep the anxiety clawing at my throat at bay as I hit ‘answer.’
I’ve just about convinced myself Kade couldn’t possibly have done anything to hurt me, after all, he told me he loved me yesterday. He looked sincere when he told me. And for the life of me, I can’t imagine the man laying his heart bare like that could betray me in any way.
I guess life hasn’t taught me this lesson after all. Everyone is capable
