Losing Track (Living Heartwood #2)(67)

Like Jacquie so eloquently puts it: I hadn’t planned to walk away tonight. Not this time. I’d have either been escorted out on a stretcher, or a body bag.

But that was before last night.

Now, I’m wrestling with that f*cking debasing, half-written text message, attempting to find the words to express to Melody… Shit. I don’t know what to say to her. I should’ve told her the whole truth about my son before now. Before she figured it all out on her own.

I’m not sure that I could’ve changed the outcome. She still wouldn’t want anything to do with me, but it was the right thing to do. I’m f*cking disgusted with myself. All the shit I preach about—honesty, following steps, owning your own bullshit—and I failed her completely.

Instead, I swipe the on-screen keyboard away and pull up my contacts. I’m desperate.

Jacquie’s voice sounds over the earpiece. “Boone, are you all right?”

My own voice is stuck in my throat. I’ve never taken Jacquie up on her offer to call if I needed her—but right this moment, I do. I need someone to talk me down from the ledge.

“I lost her, and I don’t even understand, Jacquie.” I take a breath, find my resolve. “I wasn’t even looking. She was just there, and I couldn’t help myself. I wanted the right to have a chance with her.”

“Boone, slow down. First tell me if you’re okay?”

I hate that I put panic in her tone. Jacquie doesn’t deserve the stress after everything she’s done for me. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m okay. Just with today’s date…”

“Shit,” she blurts. And my eyebrows raise. “I’m so sorry. I had it marked on my calendar to remind me…Boone, I’m so sorry. Where are you? Can you meet me somewhere?”

I lick my lips, my mouth dry, and a pang of guilt hits my chest knowing why I’m still so dehydrated. “Jacquie, I messed up. I didn’t tell Melody the truth, like you’ve been telling me I should. Tell the real story. I think she’s really upset, and I don’t want her to do something or go somewhere that she might get into trouble. Not because of me—not over my dumb shit.”

I push the phone away from my ear for a second to try to get myself and thoughts together. “Look, I just need a favor. I need you to find her information, whoever her parole officer is, and make sure she’s okay. That she hasn’t left town or something.”

“Melody…You mean Melody Lachlan?”

“Yeah.” I look around the yard, at the cars starting to fill up the parking spaces. “You know her?”

“Boone, you know I can’t disclose—”

“I know. Just let me know somehow if she’s your case.”

A beat, then, “She is. Listen, I can’t talk about her, but I can say that I don’t think you need to worry. She’s a pretty tough one, can take care of herself.” She pauses. “But I’m worried about the two of you getting involved, Boone. I’m not your therapist, and I don’t want to stick my nose in it, but I know you, and even though I’ve only met with her a couple of times, I just don’t know how—”

“How it will work between two addicts who may or may not be responsible for a loved one’s death?” My heart plummets right to my boots. This whole thing was doomed from the moment I cornered Mel at Stoney.

I hear Jacquie sigh into the receiver. “That’s not entirely what I meant. You both need a lot—” She sighs. “I want both of you to report to my office first thing Monday morning. I’ll contact Melody. I’ll make sure everything is okay with her, but I need you to do something, Boone.”

My gaze follows Turner as he nods to me and then walks into the old house. I turn my back on the crowd and trail his lead. “What?”

“Wherever you are, whatever you’re about to do, just walk away.”

For a brief second, I glimpse Melody clearly in my mind’s eye, finding the picture of Hunter, the repulsion on her face, and I know that I can’t do this request for Jacquie. More than ever, I need the punishment to offset the pain I’ve caused. I need the pain to balance the status quo.

“Thank you, Jacquie. I’m out, going home. Don’t worry, okay?”

A small hitch in her voice, but she trusts me. “You’re going to get through this, Boone. I’ll see you Monday morning.”

I pocket my phone and stare down at the cracked pavement of the street. Wondering how far away I drove Melody. Then I turn back toward Nickel’s and start for the door.

From pain comes strength.

Damn, how I wish that were true.





Melody

Resolve can blind yet heal



MY JUDGMENT MAY BE slightly off, considering I’ve had exactly three hours of sleep, and it was pretty rough sleep, at that. A full night of cranking it up followed by a morning drinking binge does not have me feeling very confident in my choices, but I’m short on time.

Jesse kicks the front tire of the Harley Breakout, a nervous habit of his, because really, kicking tires won’t determine if a bike is in good condition. “She’s not as solid as your last bike, but she’s damn good for the price.”

He doesn’t look at me when he says this; guarding his pride. He won’t let me get a good look at the black eye Boone gave him last night. I only feel a small twinge of guilt; he said some pretty shitty things to me. But I won’t hold it against him forever.