Redeemed (Dirty Air #4)(29)

Me: It’s not what you think.





I keep typing. The dots on her side of the message come and go as fast as they appeared in the first place. I don’t have time to send my next response before my phone pings again.

Chloe the Criminal: You’re right because here I was thinking you were someone you clearly aren’t. I should’ve known better the first time you lied about us to your family. Do us both a favor and lose my number.





Me: You don’t understand. Give me a chance to explain.





Chloe the Criminal: Compulsive liars are a hard limit for me. I’ll pass on your offer.





Marko looks at me funny when I groan. All I have done is lie in front of her, around her, with her. Everything we have done together has been a show for someone else. Well, everything but our private conversations and yesterday. That was all us.

Except you’re hiding your true identity, and that’s still a lie.

Me: I’m sorry.





Chloe the Criminal: Sorry. This number is no longer in service. Get a hint like I did and forget I ever existed.





Me: But what if I don’t want to?





I stand by the lake with Marko for another ten minutes, waiting for a reply that never comes. It’s obvious that I fucked up. Period. It doesn’t matter what my reasoning was in the first place.

The worst part about all of this is knowing she’ll never accept me. If this is how she reacted from a small lie, I can’t imagine how she will feel after I tell her I’m actually famous. Or was.

My list of flaws continues to grow while the redeemable parts of myself shrivel into nothing but distant memories.





12





Chloe





“What a dick.” Brooke speaks over the beeping horns of a busy morning in New York. It’s unlike her to call me on her morning walk, but I entertained her since Matteo left the shop already.

“Tell me about it. I can’t believe he would lie about a child being sick. Who even does that?” I swipe the mop across the coffee shop’s floor.

“Someone who’s used to lying to get his way?”

I scrunch my nose. “Ugh. I should have known better.”

“What are you going to do about him then?”

“Well, I’m hoping we never run into each other again.”

“Speaking of running into someone…”

I suck in a breath. “What happened?”

“I ran into your mother.”

“No. When?”

“Yes. She stopped by our apartment again this morning. I didn’t see her when I ran out the door, so I ended up spilling my coffee all over my favorite blouse when our bodies collided.”

I wince, mentally noting that I need to cover Brooke’s dry-cleaning bill. “You’re joking.”

Brooke sighs. “Sadly not. While I stood there, soaked with burning hot coffee, she had the audacity to ask me if you were there. I told her you were in Europe.”

“You what?!”

“Fuck. I knew it was the wrong thing to say.” She groans. “I’m sorry. My bad. But to be fair, I wasn’t thinking straight. All my coffee had landed on my shirt rather than in my mouth.”

I sigh. “You don’t need to apologize to me. She’s not your problem.”

“But I still feel guilty.”

I hate putting Brooke in this position. She shouldn’t have to act as a buffer between my mother and myself, especially when I’m not there to help. “Don’t. Please. She’s the one who was in the wrong. What did she say when you told her I was out of the country?”

“She asked if you were now working as a flight attendant because that’s the only way you could afford to travel.”

“What a bitch.”

“I agree. I told her to fuck off and have a nice day.”

I lean against the counter, brushing my loose hair out of my face. “Should I call her and tell her to stop coming to our place? I don’t want her to bother you while I’m not there.”

“No. Don’t give her any attention. If there is anything I’ve learned from my creepy ex-boyfriends, it’s that attention only reinforces their behavior.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I tested it time and time again. First, they get upset because you aren’t giving them what they want, but eventually they give up and find someone else to harass.”

“And it works?”

“Eventually. It’s not like she can get money from you if you’re not even here.”

“You’re right.”

She laughs. “As per usual.”

“Thank you for dealing with her and putting up with me. How will I ever make it up to you?”

“Find me a husband. All I ask is for someone with a big—”

“Brooke!”

“Heart! A big heart.”

I giggle, erasing any anxiety about my mother. She can’t bother me when I’m thousands of miles away. And in the end, I’m the one who gives people permission to hurt me. Finally, I’m taking my stand against her and leaving that part of my life behind me.