Beg You to Trust Me (Lindon U #2)(109)

“Exactly! I don’t know.”

The room is quiet for a few beats.

A hand squeezes mine twice before Serena murmurs, “We love you. So, so much. And we know this isn’t going to be easy, but don’t you think it’s important to tell people what you do know if it can help other people? Your friend? Or…others?”

My throat thickens. “Do you think there are others like me?”

They all give me sad looks.

Serenity, always the realist, states, “In my experience, there are hundreds like you out there. Which is why this needs to be stopped. I can fly back with you and be there for you when you file a report. By speaking up, you may stop it from happening to others. Whether it’s Ricky Wallace or another guy. Don’t you want to make sure nobody feels like you do?”

“We all can go,” Sienna offers.

I shake my head, rubbing my runny nose and blinking back tears. “You all have lives.”

“We’re a family,” Serena reminds me.

It’s Serenity who finishes for her. “And we always stick together.”

I let out a shaky breath and blink back more tears. “I’m scared.”

They all hold onto me.



Before she leaves with the others, Serenity passes something to me. I recognize the handwriting on the front of the red envelope instantly, looking up at my sister with shocked eyes as she shrugs. She simply walks to the door saying, “I had to be sure he wasn’t out to hurt you before I passed it along.”

My fingers toy with the card before I peel it out of the envelope. Lips wavering into a watery smile when I see penguins dressed in Santa hats on the front, I open the card and gape at what’s resting inside.

Two tickets to a sold-out book signing hosted by my favorite author. “How did he…?” My thumb rubs over the information inked on the admission tickets, gaping at the dates.

It’s been sold-out for months. To my knowledge, there was no way to get these once they were sold out.

I let out a choppy breath and move my eyes over the generic MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM OUR FAMILY TO YOURS written in bold on the inside of the card. But when I move the tickets aside, I see what’s written underneath in smudged ink.

Blondie – Giving you space hasn’t been easy, but hopefully it’ll be worth it. Especially if you decide to use this extra ticket on me. But if not, it’s yours to do what you want with. I just want you to be happy. Text me. You know my number.

Short and sweet.

I wouldn’t expect anything different from Danny.

I stare from the words written in my card to the tickets, to my phone resting on my nightstand. When I pick it up, I hesitate only a few seconds before typing out a reply.

Me: Merry Early Christmas





A few seconds after sending that, I thumb out another quick text.

Me: I’m sorry





When he doesn’t reply, I worry I may already be too late.





CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT





SKYLAR





My phone buzzes me awake way before I want to be up. I absentmindedly reach for it with my eyes cracked open and see an unknown Boston number flashing across my screen.

I sit up quickly, head spinning a little from the quick movement. “Danny?”

“It’s Meadow,” his grandmother says.

I blink past the grogginess of early morning brain fog. “Oh. Hi.” Panic instantly settles in. “Is Danny okay? I texted him yesterday, but he never responded.”

A million things swirl through my head. Did he get into a car accident? Is he okay? Is that why his grandmother is calling me and not him? Did something happen to his mother—

“His surgery was yesterday,” she explains. “He’s been a bit out of it since. Pain meds always hit that boy hard.”

His surgery was yesterday? “I didn’t know,” I murmur sadly. He hadn’t told me. Then again, when would he have been able to? Guilt cements itself into my stomach. “How is he doing? Did everything go all right?”

“That’s why I’m calling.”

I nibble on my thumbnail, drawing my warm blankets up my chest for comfort.

“He needs a pick-me-up,” the older woman tells me. “Kept yammering on about you when he was off his rocker on the anesthesia. It’s how I got your number. The boy insisted somebody call you to let you know what was going on, but my daughter and I felt it was best to wait. Now he’s moping around like he used to when we’d tell him no as a kid.”

“He was talking about me?”

She hums, amusement clear in her tone. “Wouldn’t stop. The nurses in the recovery room said he just wanted to talk to his woman. They thought it was cute.”

Heat blasts under my cheeks. “That’s…” I clear my throat. “Sweet.”

She chuckles. “If you think that’s sweet, you should see the video his mother got of him yammering away on the car ride home. All he talked about was how he was going to wife you up, whatever the hell that means.”

Oh my God.

“So, what do you say? Do you want to come cheer him up after the holidays? He’ll probably need a solid week to rest as much as possible, but after Christmas he should be a little bit better.”