“So.”She tilts her head, eyes glossy now.“Whoisshe?”
I don’t answer.
Her mouth twists.“You were kissing her.”
A flare of irritation charges through me, but I keep my voice even.“Erica?—”
“Don’t.”She steps flush against me, head tilted up to catch my eyes.“Don’t shut me out.You used to tell me you’d love me forever.That it would always be you and me.”
The words hit, sharp and wrong.I meant those promises once.Every damn one of them.Until she shattered them so thoroughly there was nothing left to hold.And now, the way she tosses the promises back at me so carelessly makes something sour rise in my throat.
I refuse to give her any reaction; that’s what she wants.And that’s when her expression changes.The performance drops enough to show what’s underneath.
“I need help.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing this were it.The moment I’ve hoped for so many days and night that I can’t count that high, but she doesn’t mean what I’m hoping for.She isn’t done using, asking for rehab.
Erica tugs on my arm until I open my eyes.“Mad, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
There it is.
“How much?”I already know the answer won’t matter, and like her, I’m just playing this out, but I have no intention of giving her one cent.
Her eyes flick away and then back.“Not much.”
It never is.
“I just need to get through a rough patch.You know I wouldn’t ask if I had another option.”
I stare down at her and wait for the familiar pull of responsibility to band and constrict around my ribs.The same one that used to drag me under and cost me everything.But nothing.Sure, I want her to be healthy and stop using, but this isn’t mine to bear.
“I’m not doing this again.”I gaze off into the distance, unable to look at her.“I won’t help you kill yourself.”
“Maddox.”She sniffs, bites at her lip like she’s trying to keep back tears.
I shake my head.“Wherever you got the money to come here, you should’ve used it for what you need.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy and unresolved, and I know this isn’t over, not by a long shot.Because Erica never shows up without an angle, and she never leaves empty-handed.
Then it hits me, the million-dollar question.“Wheredidyou get the money to come here?”
She purses her lips, and I can’t tell if it’s to hide her smile or hold back the words.
“Rickie, is that you?”The female voice is familiar enough that I recognize it before looking up.
Erica stiffens, her body locking the same way mine did not long ago when she called my name.
“Is that Reggie?”She tilts her face up toward me.
I nod, a small sense of relief loosening something tight inside me.If anyone can reach Erica, it’s Regina Daly.
“Erica.”Reggie has already closed the distance, her tone firm and unmistakable.“Turn around and look at me.”She comes up beside us and gently tugs at Erica’s arm.
Erica releases me immediately and pastes on her brightest smile.“Reggie.”
The older woman pulls her into a hug without hesitation, holding on for a beat longer than necessary, as if she’s afraid Erica might disappear again if she lets go too soon.
Regina Daly lives in a big, old house on the outskirts of town, and for as long as I’ve known her, she’s fostered kids.She took Erica in when she was five, after her parents died in a car accident a few towns over.