Page 50 of Break Me Not

I’d spent my whole life working toward something like this. Toward stability. Toward a way to prove myself. But now that I had it… It felt empty.

Even though I knew the detectives had been bluffing, there was still a little voice in the back of my head warning me, telling me I would lose it all if I wasn't careful. That everything I had strived for would go up in flames.

I hate that fucking voice.

My phone vibrated on the desk, and I picked it up without even looking at the caller ID.

“I canceled once, and now you never want to see me again?” Claire’s joking voice came through the speaker. “Kind of harsh, if you ask me.”

I couldn't help but smile at hearing her voice.

I had many associates. Some of them could blend into friends, like Sloan. But the only true friend I had was Claire. She was the only one who hadn't left me or started to act weird when she heard about my past.

People got weird once they knew you were adopted. Some turned to pity, some didn’t really know how to act around me, and when they found out how I was treated in high school and how I was the outcast…. It always felt like they were trying to “fix” me.

As much as I knew that Liz wouldn’t be like that, I still worried that I would lose her because of… Well, because of me.

Guilt ate at my insides.

My only friend, and I’m doing this to her. Wanting her mother more than I want to breathe.

“Surprise, surprise, the whole world doesn't revolve around you, Claire. I've been busy.” The words might have sounded harsh to anyone else, but Claire knew I was joking.

“How about tonight? Dinner? At your place?”

That wouldn't work. She would open the door, her mom would likely be there, and then what?

Oh yeah, so your mom is actually staying with me because your dad probably wants to kill her. And also, I regularly get on my knees for her and would like to do a lot more than that if she let me because there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.

Yeah, no. But that wasn't the only reason it wouldn't work.

“I'm meeting my mom tonight,” I said. “You can come if you want.”

“How is she doing? I haven't seen Rue in a long time.”

“She’s…” I cut myself off, not really knowing how to explain her situation to Claire. I already felt the panic rising up at me, my throat tightening and my chest weighing a thousand pounds.

“Struggling?” she provided for me.

“Struggling.”

“I think it's better if I come with you, right? So you don't have to deal with this alone?”

That was another thing I loved about Claire. Because of her, I never had to do the hard stuff alone.

This company, the clients—none of it felt hard. Business and money came easy to me. But my mother? Her condition?

I didn't even know where to begin.

“That would be great,” I forced out, trying to keep my emotions in check.

“Great! Six o'clock?”

“Perfect.”

We exchanged a few more pleasantries and grumbled about work and new projects, but that was it. After we said our goodbyes, I rested my head in my hands.

Being busy made it easier to push away the thought of visiting my mother, but now that was all I could think about.