****
There were no words to describe how much I had missed Teagan Messina.
Sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in my hands, listening to my best friend rant and rave and plot violence was the closest I'd come to feeling at peace in a very long time.
She was the one for me – in a non-lesbian way, of course.
She was my person, and because of that, I found myself telling her everything.
I started at the beginning, feeling the need to explain myself to the one person I knew wouldn’t judge me for falling in love with another man.
After all, Teagan was the one person who'd been with me through it all.
She had comforted me through my grief when Jordan ripped my heart apart all those years ago. She was witness to the extraordinary amount of pain I'd lived with for almost a decade while I waited for a man who never came back.
I explained how I had felt inside when Hunter had burst into my world all those months ago and how his friendship had set alight a fire inside of my heart. A fire that had been out out for many years.
I told her about how unsure I was in the beginning– how untrusting. I'd never had a man who stayed before.
But he did.
I tried to pinpoint the moment our friendship had turned to something more than platonic, but I couldn’t find it. Try as I may, I couldn’t find the memory in my mind that told me he was just a friend. I guess deep down inside, Hunter had always been more.
I explained in great detail the night I finally allowed my heart to succumb to the feelings I had been so desperate to deny.
And then, I told her the things I couldn’t possibly tell my family when they demanded I did just that. Every tiny, horrible detail. Even the inconsequential ones no one could possibly care about. Like the smell of Carl, and the sensation of his touch on my skin. I told her about the way I had wanted to floated out of my own body.
Then the crash of relief that had floored me when Hunter stormed into the kitchen, and that intoxicating rush of adrenalin and power that had come over me when I watched him take that man's life.
I let it all out.
How it felt in his arms, when he was filling me up, making me feel safe and loved and cherished. Her uncle helping me. Hunter's kisses. His hands on my body erasing the painful memories and sensations. How I wanted to throw myself into his arms and have him never let me go. How I had decided then and there that my life was attached to his and no amount of guilt or grief could sway my decision.
And then I told her about Jordan. The drugs, and the pain, and the emotional blackmail.
How he'd seen Hunter that night.
How he had vowed to go to the police if I didn’t cut all contact with him.
I begged her to understand my reasons for needing to keep Jordan safe. I willed her to see where I was coming from.
We both knew how Hunter dealt with threats, and I couldn’t let that happen. I prayed for her to understand that there was something inside of my heart that refused to give up on Jordan Porter. That what I was doing right now kept both men safe.
And then I made her promise to never tell a soul what I had told her.
I exposed my deepest, darkest secrets and fears to my best friend, and she listened.
She listened with her hand in mine and her head on my shoulder.
The only part I kept to myself was that night.
The night Jordan…I couldn’t say the words.
I couldn’t verbalize what had happened between us.
Not when I wasn’t sure if it was true.
What had happened in my father's kitchen and what had happened in Jordan's bedroom had been polar opposite.
But I had felt the same both times.
I hadn't wanted it.
Perception was reality, and I knew that his perception of that night was very different from mine.
In truth, I couldn’t bear to think of it.
It just didn’t make sense to me.
So I forced it to the back of my mind.
It was the only way I could cope.
After regaling her with the horrors of my last few weeks, Teagan let out a heavy sigh. "I get it, Hope," she said. "I really do. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to involve my parents in this either, but this isn’t your fight."
"Isn't it?" I croaked out. "Because I've got a pain in my heart and a hole in my face that says otherwise."
"And staying with him?" Her brown eyes flashed with anger. "You do realize that Jordan's blackmailing you, right? Emotional blackmail wasn’t working for him anymore, so he's pulled out the big guns?" She shook her head and released a growl. "God, I am so fucking mad right now, I can practically taste it."
"I don’t think he's doing this to hurt me," I muttered, hating myself for defending his behavior but needing to do it all the same. "You should have seen him that day, Teegs." I shuddered at the memory. "He was so angry. So…hurt." I blinked away the image before turning to my friend and saying, "I think he genuinely believes he's protecting me."
"Bullshit. He's protecting himself," Teagan snapped, not giving an inch. "Remember that Kenny Rogers' song The Gambler?" Teagan chimed in. "You know the way it goes; know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em?"
"Yeah, I know the song," I replied. My father had often sung it to us when we were little. It was Cam's favorite. "What about it?"
"I think there is some awesome advice in the lyrics." She looked me dead in the eye and said, "And I think it's time to walk away from him, Hope, – or better still, run."
I was silent then, my mind reeling, as I tried to make sense of everything that had happened, and everything I would have to do. "You won't say anything, will you?" I finally whispered.
"No," she bit out. "But that's for you. I know you're right about Luck, if he knew any of this Jordan would be a dead man." She paused and clenched her jaw. "And even though I personally think someone needs to smack the shit out of him, I know what it would do to you."
"Thank you." I sagged in relief, grateful for being able to get it off my chest, and knowing that she wouldn’t tell.
"He's an asshole," Teagan grumbled.
"He's destroying himself." I sighed wearily. "With as much alcohol and drugs as he can get his hands on." I sighed. "I'm guessing that's where he is right now… chasing down his next fix."
"Hope, you need to get out here," she told me. "Seriously," she urged. "I know what I'm talking about. My father was a rip-roaring alcoholic, and a mean one at that. His addiction killed my mother. And I have no doubt that if I had let him stay in my life, he would have ruined mine too."
"I know that, Teegs," I replied. "It's just so fucking messy."
"And what about Lucky?" she asked. "Where does he stand in all this?"
"I'm so in love with him," I confessed, feeling the familiar sting in my eyes. "He's the reason I'm doing this, Teegs. Why I'm still here. Why I'm too scared to call Jordan's bluff and walk out. I can't risk Hunter's life for my happiness. Do you get that?" Exhaling a shaky breath, I added, "All that matters to me is keeping him out of prison. Nothing else."
"You know he's gone, right? I haven't seen him in weeks," Teagan announced, causing my heart to plummet into my ass. "Noah says he'll be back – that's he's got business he needs to tie up. But we both know what the word business means to those two."
"Yeah." I knew what it meant. And it terrified me. "Fuck."
"Luck's out for revenge," she stated grimly. "And he's either going to end up killing everyone that gets in his way of that, or he's going to end up getting himself killed in the process. Either way, he won't stop until he's done." Her words caused me to flinch. "You need to go to him, Hope," she urged. "Fuck Jordan. Save the man who's out there right now saving you."
"And if he talks?" I demanded. "And Hunter goes down for this?" I shook my head. "I can't, Teagan. I can't take that risk. Not with him. I love him too much…"
"Who's going to believe a drunk who's stoned off his head?" she shot back angrily. "I know I wouldn’t."
"But what if –"
"There is no body," she added. "Noah and Luck made sure of that. No body means no evidence." Huffing, she added, "it's your word against a drug addict's. I wonder who the cops are going to believe?"
"He's already been convicted of murder, Teagan," I hissed. "Do you think the cops will ignore that, too? Because I think that 'murderer with a violent record' trumps 'social worker addict with no record' in the crime department."
"Ugh. You and your stupid logic," she grumbled. "Just give me your damn cell."
"Why?" I shoved my hand in my pocket and pulled it out before handing it over willingly. "What are you doing?"
"I stole this number out of Noah's contacts," she replied as she tapped furiously on the screen of my phone. "Luck's been using burner phones to call Noah while he's been on the road. This is the last one he called him on." She handed the phone back to me and said, "Talk to Lucky, Hope. Try and find a way to get through to him – hell, throw Jordan under than damn bus if you have to. Just talk to the guy. Because if you keep on lying to him and letting him think he doesn’t have a chance, he is going to start believing you."