“I’m not here to say I told you so, Sloane. I’m here to be your friend. I know I have a lot to make up for, but…but I really want to try. If you’ll let me?”
I place two teabags in two cups, focusing on the rote movements necessary to complete the task. That seems about all I’m capable of doing. I can’t even think about all the shit Pippa pulled right now—how badly she betrayed me—because none of that seems important. Only Lacey. Only Zeth. Only my heart breaking into multiple pieces. “Can we talk about this another time?” I ask. “I’m too tired right now.”
“Of course.”
I finish making the tea and Pip and I sit on the couch in silence. Ernie watches us with his little Schnauzer eyebrows twitching every now and then. “Whose dog is that?” Pippa asks.
“DEA Agent Lowell’s.”
Pippa just nods her head, as though the fact we have Lowell’s dog is completely normal.
“Why did he text you?” I ask.
“Who? Zeth?”
“Yeah. He hates you.” I don’t sugarcoat it for her. “Why would he text you and send you over here to take care of me? If he knows I’m as fucked up as he is, why the hell isn’t he here looking after me himself? Or at least letting me look after him?”
Pippa purses her lips at my first statement, staring at the pale, untouched liquid in the mug she’s holding. “You know him better than I do, Sloane. You know what kind of man he is.”
I narrow my eyes at her, ready to kick her ass out if she even so much as breathes a bad word about him. She instantly holds one of her hands up—the one not holding onto her mug. “He’s been alone in the world for as long as he can remember,” she says. “He’s never had someone to care for before. And he’s never had someone to care for him, either. It’s going to take some time for him to come to trust that. Knowing his profile a little better now, I’d probably hazard a guess he’s afraid to rely on you for that. Good things have never lasted long in Zeth’s life. With Lacey gone now, he probably expects you’ll disappear in a puff of smoke, too.”
“So you’re saying he won’t rely on me because he thinks I’m going to die? That’s very reassuring. And what do you mean, knowing his profile a little better now?”
Pip’s already shaking her head before I’m done talking. “Not die. Maybe…just leave him. In his head, you’ve seen that he couldn’t protect his sister. Perhaps he’ll expect you to leave him because you don’t feel safe. And after the very strange session we had the other night, I do have a better understanding of him, Sloane. And, while I’m not entirely sure of him, I do trust him a little more now, too. I know…I know he’s doing everything he can to keep you safe. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”
I’ve heard that speech before, except this time Pippa’s words aren’t said with malice or contempt. I hear the ring of truth in them. That’s not what I’m concentrating on, though. He went to see Pippa? For a session? I had no idea—he never told me he’d done that—but from the look on her face, Pippa doesn’t know. I keep my face straight, not wanting to show my surprise.
“So…you don’t think I’m crazy for being with him, then?”
“I never said that,” Pippa replies. “What I’m saying is, while the situation’s rather crazy, I can see why you’re in it. Why you won’t leave him. And I respect that. I swear, Sloane, I will never breathe another word about you and him again. Never. And I’ll do my best to help him overcome all the crap that’s happened to him, too. Just please…can we try? Be friends again? One day when you don’t have DEA agents breathing down your neck, you’re going to need someone to share a coffee date or two with, right? I haven’t been to Fresco’s in so long.”
I’m still angry with Pippa, but I’ve lost so much over the last few months. Perhaps our relationship will never be what it used to be, but if I don’t have to lose her entirely, then maybe that’s something I can hold onto. I try out a smile; it feels forced, but it’s a start. “We can try,” I tell her. “But the moment you start interfering, that’s it. We’re done.”
There’s nothing forced about Pip’s smile. She grins, and for a moment she looks like she’s going to hug me. She doesn’t though. She just sips her tea, still smiling at me, eyes crinkled at the corners. “Thank you,” she says quietly. “I know I don’t deserve this, but I’m going to make it up to you, I swear.”
I really hope she can. After everything that’s happened over the past few days, a friend would be pretty amazing right now.
I. Can’t. Eat.
Michael told me what he said to Sloane. He told me she was worried about her safety when he left her, and she was right to be. Just shows she’s a smart girl. But Michael was also right—a power vacuum now exists in Seattle, and nearly every single gang in the city is going to be battling it out, vying for the territories that recently came up for grabs. The guys who used to work for Charlie don’t give a shit about Sloane. She’s safer right now than she has been for a weeks.
Me, on the other hand…I am not so safe. I may know the truth of the matter, but Charlie implied I was his son when he paid Julio, the fat bastard, to leave me alone. At the time I’d taken that news as irrefutable evidence that the old man was my father. Now I know he only did it because he didn’t want someone killing me before he got the chance. A severe case of I can hurt, break, kill my toys, but if anyone else tries to…