Released (Caged #3)(32)

“I wanted to,” I told her. “I wanted to so bad. I thought about it all the time. It was right there, and it was so close. If I had money, I might not have been able to stop myself. But I was going to have to get money for drugs, and…well…”

I paused, trying to decide how much full disclosure was really needed, and determined some things were best left unsaid.

“My options were limited,” I finally said. “And I didn’t want to have to tell you that I used again or what I had to do to get the money.”

Tria’s fingers stilled against my face.

“You didn’t, though, right?”

“I didn’t,” I said. “I swear.”

She rubbed the back of my head again and stopped with the questions.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled the scent of Tria’s hair as I held her against my chest. The bed was remarkably more comforting with her lying beside me and her hands covering my skin. She ran a finger over the edge of my bicep.

“I missed these,” she said quietly.

I tightened my grip on her, and she relaxed against me.

It was late—well past midnight—but neither of us had tried to go to sleep. We hadn’t tried to do anything except hold each other and look at each other. I was perfectly fine with that, too. I felt the need to memorize everything about her.

Tria seemed content to just run her hands over my arms and chest, which also suited me just fine. It was comforting and sensual though I didn’t think either one of us was looking to take it to the next level at the moment. Everything was too right just as it was.

She tickled my jaw and scratched at the scruff.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” I said automatically. “After everything I did to you, I deserved—”

“I mean about what happened to you,” she said. “I’m sorry about what happened to you and your girlfriend…the baby.”

My body tensed all over, and my eyes squeezed shut. I tried to nod in acceptance, but my whole body just froze up.

“I didn’t say that before,” Tria continued, “and I understand why you didn’t tell me and why you still don’t want to talk about it.”

I could only manage to nod but figured that was better than nothing.

“I don’t expect you to talk to me about it,” she said, “but you need to get counseling.”

“I know,” I responded. “I will. Baynor gave me a name.”

“Did you make an appointment?”

“Not yet.”

“You have to do that.”

“I know I do,” I said.

“I don’t want to…to blackmail you into getting better.”

“You aren’t,” I said. “I know I have to do this.”

I knew no such thing, but I was determined to do whatever it took to keep her close to me—to keep her safe. If that meant talking to some complete stranger about shit I can barely think about…well, I’d just have to see what I could do. I was at least going to try.

Tria’s head rested against my shoulder, and I held her tightly, but sleep still refused to come for either of us. There were too many things left unsaid; too many things to figure out. We both seemed to sense it.

“I’ve been trying to…to do everything Baynor said,” I told her.

“Like what?”

“Um…well, not shooting up.” God, that sounded f*cking awful. “I mean—more than that. I…um, I have a whole list.”

“A list?”

“Yeah…I mean, Baynor gave me a journal.”

“A journal?” Tria looked up and raised an eyebrow. “You wrote in a journal?”

“Yeah,” I said as I shrugged one shoulder. “I wrote in it.”

“What did you write?”

I reluctantly untangled myself from Tria and grabbed the journal. I sat back against the pillows, and Tria scooted over next to me. I handed the book to her, and she looked at the first page’s declaration of me not knowing what the f*ck I was doing. She glanced at me with a half-smile and then turned the page.

“I made a list,” I said. “It’s a list of all the shit I need to do.”

She looked over it.

“Did you really clean the apartment?” she asked.

I chuckled.

“Yeah, right before I got kicked out of it.”

“You don’t have to do this one,” Tria said quietly. Her finger trailed over the words Talk to Mom. “I just…I thought you needed to reconnect with your family, but I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I don’t know,” I responded. “I might need more of a push. I can’t say it’s something I want to do, though.”

Tria turned the page again.

“I, um…I wrote you a letter, too,” I said.

She looked quickly at me.

“Can I read it?” she asked.

“Um…yeah,” I said. “It’s for you.”

I watched her face as she read the words I had written. Her eyes filled with tears, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Do you mean all of this?” she asked. “I mean…you weren’t…high or anything?”