Deception (Infidelity #3)(106)

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” I said. “I love you more than I did an hour ago. I’ll do everything in my power to keep her promises if you’ll let me.”

“Her promises?” Nox asked.

“To love you and do my best to stay safe.”

His warm palm caressed my cheek. “I don’t want to ever lose you.”

“Then hold on tight. I’m not going anywhere.”





IT HAD BEEN nearly a week since Nox’s confession and neither of us had brought it up again. We didn’t need to. I was more than satisfied with his honesty and had no desire to hear or see again the pain I’d witnessed that night. Instead, I wanted to see the light blue of his gaze, the menacing gleam, and the grin that told me he was up to something. I wanted to wake in his arms and fall asleep listening to him breathe.

I adored the way he always found me the first thing after entering the apartment. It didn’t matter where I was—my office studying, the kitchen getting Lana’s meal ready, or even soaking in a tub after a long day. It was as if I wore a tracker. Well, I did, but he didn’t use his phone. He followed his heart and his need to confirm that I was present and safe, just as I’d promised.

When Nox found me, the first words from his lips were always, How was your day? Though they didn’t vary, I never felt that they were said with anything less than genuine interest. Of all the things he did and said, it was close to my favorite.

There was this thing that he did when my hands were bound that topped the list, but I couldn’t think about that too much or I wouldn’t accomplish anything else.

I had just finished my lunch on campus when I saw the text. I didn’t recognize the number, but I didn’t need to. She told me who she was.

Unknown number:

“ALEX, IT’S CHELSEA. I KNOW YOU PROBABLY HATE ME AND I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO CALL YOU. DOES TEXTING COUNT? I THINK IT DOES. I THOUGHT YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT YOUR MOM IS SICK. SHE’S GETTING WORSE AND NOW THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT PUTTING HER IN A HOSPITAL. EVEN THOUGH I DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO SAY IT, I THINK YOU SHOULD BE HERE.



PLEASE DON’T TELL ANYONE, ESPECIALLY BRYCE, THAT I CONTACTED YOU.

I’M DELETING THIS TEXT FROM MY PHONE AS SOON AS I SEND.



I AM SORRY. PLEASE DON’T CALL ME BACK.”





I STARED IN disbelief at the screen of my phone. I may have doubted that Chelsea had really been the one to send the text had it not been for the one line: does texting count? That was definitely Chelsea, the one to find the loophole in every agreement.

I couldn’t think about why she knew what was happening at Montague Manor and I didn’t, or why she wasn’t supposed to contact me, or a million other concerns. I needed to concentrate on the most important one.

My mother.

I picked up what remained of my lunch and threw it in a trash bin as I looked around the cafe. Clayton was sitting at a table near a window, looking at both his iPad and occasionally my direction. Having him tag along seemed extreme, but since I knew Nox’s reasoning, I didn’t argue.

Bryce had said my mother was sick once and it wasn’t true. I held onto that hope as I scrolled my contacts and called the one person who would tell me what was really happening.

Jane answered on the third ring.

“Hello?”

Didn’t my name come up?

I immediately stood taller, my nerves on alert.

“Jane, it’s Alex.”

“Yes, I understand.”

I lowered my voice. “You can’t talk right now?”

“That’s right.”

“Can you just tell me how Momma is?”

“So sad,” she said. “I wish with all my heart it was different.”

Tears filled my eyes as the world lost focus. “Do I need to be there?”

“I can’t say. But it’d be the answer to my prayers. Bye, now. I needs to go.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Though I asked my question, Jane didn’t hear. The line had gone dead.

My stomach dropped to the ground as a million questions ran through my mind, all vying for voice. What was wrong with my mother? Why couldn’t Jane speak to me? Why wasn’t anyone telling me what was happening? How long had it been going on?

My hands trembled as I found a chair, sat, and called Nox’s phone. It was rare for me to bother him during the day. I’d probably only done it less than a half dozen times. He respected my school and my time, and I respected his.

After four rings, his cell phone went to voicemail and my head fell forward, my chin to my chest as I waited to leave a message.

“Nox.” I whispered his name, “I’m sorry to bother you.” With each phrase, emotion rained over me. What started as a gentle shower quickly became a torrent, drowning me in a rapid river of regret.

Why hadn’t I called her? Why hadn’t I gone to see her when she couldn’t come to me?

“I-it’s my mother. I don’t know what’s happened.” My voice cracked, leaving space for the tears that now cascaded down my cheeks. “She’s sick.” I gulped air, my chest suddenly tight. “Very sick. I need to get to Savannah.”

I didn’t ask. I told him what I needed to do. There was no doubt that I was going.