36. Petra

Chapter thirty-six

Petra

I’m exhausted after covering Nancy’s ungodly opening shift, and my bed is calling my name, but the world of Galin is, too. I’ve spent the last month meticulously editing and rewriting my first two books. It’s a completely different process from writing a first draft, and I find myself sorely missing that last year of schooling. Maybe Papa was right, and I should go back to finish my degree.

I sleepily research how long my college credits are good for and if they’re transferable to Lewis and Clark or Portland State University, when my email pings.

Oh. My. God. Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks of sending out letters to agents and I already have my first request to view my manuscript. Sometimes it takes months, years for an answer. It’s a million times faster than I expected, and for the first time, I wish I’d done this sooner.

There’s one person I want to share this with, but Reed doesn’t even know I started looking for agents. I wanted to tell him in person, but I can’t wait four more days. My heart races as it rings, and all my words pour out as soon as he picks up.

“Hi. I miss you, I woke up missing you, but I need to tell you something before we get distracted and off topic.” I plow on before he can even say hello. “When you left, I needed to—”

“Sorry, who is this?” a voice that’s not Reed’s asks. I blink, confused, as I obviously hit the wrong name. But my screen shows Reed’s, bright and clear.

“Uh, is Reed there? ”

There’s a pause before the woman answers. “How do you know my husband?”

“No, sorry. Reed Alexander.”

“And I’m asking what the hell you’re doing calling him,” she answers, tone frosty.

The ice of it sinks into my clothes, my skin, my bones. My smile drops right off my face, and I go numb. “No. What? No.” My brain overloads with information that doesn’t compute. “He just bought a house to be close to me.”

“That asshole,” she swears. “Portland is because of you? Look, we’re getting back together and this thing between you is over. I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s so not Reed. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve known him. Nothing about him screams cheating asshole, especially not with his history. He’s too sensitive to be a liar. Too tender to have made up his wounds. And I stupidly love him enough that I’m not easily swayed.

“Kinley?” It’s a shot in the dark, but she’s the only one I can imagine overstepping this many boundaries. Brazenly lying to get her way.

There’s a sharp inhale before she speaks, triumphant. “He talks about me? I knew it.”

My stomach sinks. I could lie, and worsen the situation, or feed her delusions. She’s completely unstable. She drugged him, tattooed him. Is there a line she wouldn’t cross? Panic climbs up my throat like I’ve swallowed a hive of bees. “Where is he, Kinley? Is he hurt?”

“Of course not,” she scoffs. “He’s right here, playing with Brooke and Janie.”

He wouldn’t bring his nieces around her. Not ever. “I want to talk to him.”

Kinley shuts me down. “It’s over. He loves me. Don’t call anymore. ”

I can’t let her hang up. This phone number is my only tie to Reed, and without it, I lose him. “Where is he, Kinley? Put him on the phone or I’ll call the cops.”

“And tell them what? You don’t know where we are. Is it hard to believe you’re not special? You’re just his little pet ,” she hisses, and hangs up. Thirty seconds later, I get a text from Reed. It’s a woman’s hand covering the left side of her driver’s license with a diamond ring sitting prettily on her finger. It’s a California ID, with her name clearly printed across the top.

Kinley Alexander.

A memory sweeps through me. Is this where you say Petra Alexander sounds better? I’d asked, and he’d gazed at me with such warmth. But she stole Reed’s last name before I even had a chance to claim it.

Enough proof for you? He’s mine.

Mine. She tattooed her initials on him to prove it. What else will she do? She wouldn’t kill him. Would she?

Ice slides down my spine, and I sprint to Tommy’s room. My sweet, strong, smart brother, who might know where to go from here. “Tommy!” I knock, but don’t wait for him to answer before I throw the door open. He’s still sleeping after his night shift. “I need your help.”

“What?” Tommy blinks groggily. “Wha’s going on?”

It pours out of me. Reed’s company, his stalker, buying a house in Portland and wanting to date me, the phone call with Kinley. “She’s insane, Tommy. What do I do? How do I help him?”

“Can you call his family? Do you have any of their numbers?” Tommy asks.

“Of course not! It’s been like seven weeks! I don’t have his email or socials or anything.”

Tommy groans, exasperated. “Seriously? This guy could’ve been anyone —”

“But he wasn’t!” I snap. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m scared. What if she’s got him locked up somewhere? ”

“Have you called Darin? Maybe he can pull some records, ping Reed’s location or something.”

I grab his face and plant a kiss on his rough cheek. “Genius, Tommy! Sorry I woke you.”

“Hang on, I’m involved now,” Tommy protests as he throws on a sweatshirt. I follow him down the stairs and into the kitchen as he dials Darin’s number. “Let’s do some sleuthing.”

When Tommy explains it all, Darin is sympathetic, but straightlaced. “I can’t put a BOLO out because you have a feeling,” Darin chides. “It’s an abuse of power.”

“Can I file a missing person’s report or a wellness check or something?”

“Sure. Do you know where to send someone?” Darin asks. “He’s not living in a permanent residence, right?”

“Right.” My heart squeezes. I’m helpless here. “What can I do?”

“I hate it, but,” Darren says, “you have to sit tight and call him again later. There’s nothing more you or I can do at the moment.”

“Alright. Thanks, Darin.” It’s not the answer I wanted, and it’s got to be written all over me.

“C’mon,” Tommy sighs. “I’m starving, and you probably didn’t eat breakfast.” He pulls a heap of things from the fridge and leads us in a conversation about trivial things. He’s trying to get me out of my head.

It doesn’t work. My answers are short while my brain runs through a million different scenarios. I don’t understand Kinley’s goal, which makes her wildly unpredictable. I’m left wringing my hands.

Once I’ve eaten a satisfactory portion of a meatball sandwich, he dives back in. “I know I’m not ‘one of the girls,’ but I care. How are you holding up?”

“What, because the first guy I see possibilities with is hurt, kidnapped, or dead, and all I can do is sit here? I’m doing great.” The sarcasm isn’t even layered—it’s spread thicker than cream cheese icing on my Happy Heartbreak Cake .

Tommy frowns at me. “How into him are you? If this happened when you first met Nate, would you have stuck around?”

I’m too agitated to think about it. “I don’t know. By this point in my relationship with Nate, I was pregnant. I didn’t get a chance to know whether I wanted to be with him.” When I glance up, Tommy’s face is bone white. The truth comes rushing out. “I knew him all of ten minutes and slept with him at a frat party, Tommy! We hadn’t even been on a date. We kept hooking up at parties, and then I got pregnant! ‘Good Girl Petra.’ Ugh. How could I tell Mama and Papa the truth?”

Tommy’s face shifts slowly to toad green. “So you let us all assume you were in love? That you were happy to have a baby?”

“I was happy. I wanted her. I hoped Nate and I could make it work.” I swallow my pride. “But…no. I wouldn’t have been with him had Natalia not been part of the equation.”

Tommy swears and reaches for my hand. “Troni. I’m sorry you thought you had to keep that from me.”

I shrug, but his words soothe a deep wound. “You were a teenager. You couldn’t have done anything, anyway. It’s okay.”

“I’m not a teenager now,” he declares. “What do you want to do, Petra?”

I don’t answer Tommy, but dial Reed on speakerphone. It only rings twice before Kinley answers. “If he wanted to talk, he would. Stop calling.”

“Never. You think you love him, Kinley, but you don’t know him, or understand him. If you have to resort to this to get his attention, that’s not love. Please, let me talk to him.”

“ You don’t know him,” she growls. “Did you know that he records with all his conquests? Your little scene was the perfect addition to our collection.”

All the blood drains from my face. I take her off speakerphone, and her voice grates in my ear.

“Didn’t think he’d share, Pet?” she taunts. “You’re a terrible lie detector. ” Her words are daggers that slice into my skin .

Reed and I were vulnerable with each other. It was supposed to be just for us. If he hadn’t meant it, my heart would break. And if she’d stolen it from us, I’d crumple into a ball and never emerge. Either way, my night with Reed is tainted, and shame sits, hot and sour, in my belly. The burn of tears creeps up my throat. I can’t get words out without crying, so I hold them in.

“Now you know,” Kinley declares, triumphant, and the line disconnects.

“Troni,” Tommy says, but I avoid his eyes. I wait for his scolding. For his judgment and condescension. But Tommy pulls me into his arms and strokes my hair while the storm inside of me comes flooding out, soaking his shirt with my tears.

It’s a while before I pull myself together.

“Got it all out?” Tommy asks. When I nod, he squeezes me tight. “Good, because I’m gonna kill whichever one of them is the bigger asshole in this equation, and I’ll need you to lie for me.”

“Tommy!” I reprimand, but half of me is happy to climb aboard his boat. Pain turns to scorn and anger in my chest until I’m boiling from it. If Kinley was here, I wouldn’t need Tommy to step in; I’d kick her ass myself.

“Don’t worry, between you and Darin I should be fine,” Tommy insists.

“You’re not going to berate me for—? You know.” Tommy must assume the worst. I wince, hating that I have to say it at all. “There’s no video—only audio.”

Tommy sighs, scrubbing his face. “I didn’t want to know that, but at least it’s better. I was trying to figure out how to search all the sites to see if I need to take it down, without actually seeing anything.”

My heart squeezes. Tommy might be an immature asshole sometimes, but he’s also a great person. A great brother. “I love you, you know?”

Tommy squeezes my shoulder, a hard smile pulling at one side of his mouth. “I love you, too. I’d do anything for you. ”

“I know. But let’s not put ‘go to prison’ on that list, okay? I don’t—” I don’t believe that Reed would do that to me. It doesn’t sit right.

“Let’s go to Livi’s.” Tommy says, grabbing my coat from the hall. “She’ll know what to do better than me.”

“You’re doing a great job,” I say, squeezing his arm. “You don’t need Livi to rescue you.”

“Maybe not, but nothing resuscitates you more than holding Hailey does.” My EMT. He can’t hit me with a physical defibrillator, so he’s bringing me to an emotional one.

It works. I break down as soon as Livi opens the door. Tommy must’ve texted her, because she thrusts Hailey into my arms and settles us on the couch, rubbing my back. Tommy helps her catch up on all the things I kept to myself.

“No wonder he snorted at Tommy’s asexual comment. I was cheated out of that twenty.”

“Stop betting on me,” I protest. She rolls her eyes, but by the time we get to my phone call with Kinley, she bristles as if she wants to call Darin or hunt down Kinley herself.

“I want to watch a movie,” Antonio interrupts with a pouty frown. “With popcorn. Please?”

“Of course, Tony. It’ll keep them distracted,” Livi mutters to me. She puts on a movie they’ve seen a dozen times, but they settle in excitedly with bowls of popcorn. Hailey giggles and practices pulling herself up to standing on the furniture. Lilly snuggles into my side and spends the entire movie explaining what is about to happen or what she wishes would happen instead.

By the time the movie is over, Hailey is down for a nap and Tommy is bored out of his mind. He calls out of work, determined to support me, but he isn’t great at sitting still. He and the twins make funny faces and tell jokes in an attempt to make me laugh. Our stomachs growl, and Livi orders takeout for dinner. It’s all so…normal. My heart is sore and fear still skitters through all my muscles, but the rest of the world keeps moving .

My phone rings, and Reed’s name scrolls across my screen. I panic. “What do I do? I can’t talk to her again.”

“Put me on,” Livi growls. “Whether it’s her or Reed, I’ll tear them a new one.”

I don’t doubt it. In my indecision, I let it go to voicemail. When it begins again, my heart jumps into my throat, and I head to the guest room to answer it.

“Hey, Pet,” Reed says. He’s not in hysterics. Why is he calm? “How was your day? Better than mine, I hope.”

All my words stick to the roof of my mouth. I’d worried he was dead .

The relief of hearing his voice is quickly overshadowed by a tsunami of anger that rushes forward and pulls me under in a wave of heat that licks through my veins. Why call me now? Where were you? Why don’t you sound hurt?

He’s fine.

Which only leaves room for the explanation I’ve steadfastly ignored.

“Pet?” he asks again.

And I word-vomit all over him. “Is Kinley your wife?”