Page 91 of Detour

“I know. I’m sorry, babe, especially when all that shit with your mom happened. I never meant to put you at a disadvantage, I swear.”

I hold my breath, remembering that awful scene from what should’ve been an amazing day. The memory of Rianne spilling our dysfunction like a half ass yard sale for Coty and his roommates to judge will forever haunt me. Add that with Coty’s lie, even if it was made with good intentions, and I feel a rise in the wall he’s been chipping away at. It’s slight, but it’s there, and I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not. I already blew through my one-night attempt with him. Maybe that was a mistake after all.

“I understand you thought you were doing the right thing, but I don’t like being lied to. Ever. I’ve spent my life with someone trying to manipulate me and I won’t put up with it from you.”

“Fair enough. It won’t happen again.” He holds his hands in surrender. “Can I ask you something though?” Lowering back down to the bed, his face tightens and I have the urge to run away. Even though I know what’s coming, I’m still not prepared when he asks, “Did you mean what you said about regretting being born?” His voice softens at the end making me soften—something I thought I’d never do.

I cover my face, leaning my head back. “I really wish you hadn’t seen that. Yes and no. I regret it because of what my existence has cost her. Sometimes it’s easy to believe she would’ve been better without me. On the other hand, I’m glad I’m here.” I drop my hands to find Coty watching me carefully. “I haven’t had a great life, but it’s mine. That’s all I can really ask for.” I shrug, picking at my thumbnail. “You’re not the only one working your ass off to be different than your parents, you know?”

The mattress dips, then I see his hand slide over mine, ceasing my jerky movements.

“That’s fucking insane that she said that to you. It’s even worse that she made you think it was true. I hate that you regret being born, even if only for a minute—that’s a minute too long as far as I’m concerned. And you don’t owe her shit either. Parents are given children as gifts, not as obligations. If she sees it any other way, then she’s the ungrateful one.” His grip around my hand, and heart, tightens. “Trust me, babe, you are nothing like your mom. I only spent a few minutes in her presence, and I could tell you’re miles above where she is.”

“Did you say anything to her after I left?” I squint at him.

Coty removes his hand and smirks, some of his seriousness floating away. “Not really. We may have made it clear she wasn’t welcome back though.” Taking the laptop, he places it on the nightstand and turns back to me. “We don’t take kindly to outsiders messing with our own.”

“Why? Did she say something to you guys?”

“Nope, just to you.” His eyes connect with mine. “That was enough to ban her from ever returning.” At my blank stare, he clarifies, “That’s your mom, so if you want her here then that’s your choice and I won’t get in the way, much,” he smothers a smile, “but I don’t want to see anyone treat you like that again, no matter if they’re related to you or not. I’d rather watch my right arm be sawed off with a dull blade than watch someone hurt you.”

His hands frame my face and I close my eyes, hoping to hide the building tears.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Anything for you,” he whispers back. “Now, will you be a good girl and let me drive you to work?”

My misty eyes open with a roll.

“How can I argue with you after all that?”

“Exactly, you can’t. Plus, if he knows your boyfriend is there every day, hopefully he won’t even think about trying anything stupid.”

Coty leans down but before he can capture my lips, I pull back, hitting my head on the headboard. “Boyfriend?”

Not blinking, Coty replies, “Yes?”

I shake my bruised head. “I don’t remember us talking about you being my boyfriend.”

“That’s because you were exhausted from all the orgasms I gave you.” His lips meet mine with gentle pressure, then grins. “It’s okay though, I remember.” He even winks, making me laugh.

Bringing my arms up around his neck, I pull him closer until he’s positioned between my legs.

“I don’t think so.”

He cocks an eyebrow above his rapidly darkening eyes. “Do you need me to refresh your memory?”

Using his words, I murmur against his lips, “Give me your worst.”

He wastes no time returning the favor—multiple times.

* * *

My cell rings on my way home Friday night and I answer seeing Drew’s name. Just finished with an interview, I fill him in on how well it went along with the new information I’ve gathered from Joanna in HR so far. She’s been super helpful, and easy to work with, making the whole experience a breeze. The ways I’m grateful for Drew in my life never cease, just like his knack for looking out for me.

My smile stays in place all the way to Creekwood. The interview turned out to be for a coffee kiosk, only able to serve drive-through customers, which makes it that much more appealing. The hours are perfect and the possibility for tips is great. The owner and manager—a woman, thankfully —seemed pretty laidback. The only problem is my lack of experience with anything regarding food or beverage prep whatsoever. The owner, Faye, was confident that a little bit of training would remedy that issue though. The interview went longer than expected, which I’m taking as a good sign, and she said she’d let me know her decision soon.

As much as making fifty or more drink variations intimidates me, I’m hopeful the environment will prove better than the wash. Although this week hasn’t been bad—Joe’s been on his best behavior, almost leaving me alone completely—I still don’t trust him. His mood swings, rivaling any hormonal woman on her worst period, can change often and for no apparent reason.