Broken Course (23 page)

However, Brett clearly managed to weasel his way out of that one. Now, it’s time to step this up a bit. I reach into my purse, pull out one of my earrings, and toss it under the pillow on the couch. Just so there is no doubt about who it belongs to, I picked the same ones I wore the first time I met Jesse.

Damn it. I really liked that pair too.

I then move to the bathroom and search through the drawers. Just as I hoped, I find a few women’s toiletries. I pull a handwritten note from my purse and begin to search for somewhere to hide it. Just for good measure, I grab the pink toothbrush before shoving them both in the drawer.

I pull the red panties from my purse and make my way to his bedroom. The minute my eyes lock with the wooden picture frame on his nightstand, the breath is stolen from my lungs. My arms fall limply at my sides and I stagger forward. With every step closer, a knife is twisted in my gut. I immediately recognize the picture of Brett holding Jesse, but it’s the frame that causes a sob to rip from my throat.

It’s one of Manda’s frames. Caleb made them for her all the time. His house used to be littered in them before she passed away. She loved to take pictures and he, well…loved to display them. As far as I know, he has never once made a picture frame for anyone else. It was something special he did only for her. Yet here on Brett’s nightstand sits an image of Jesse Addison inside one of them. The pain starts to subside as my blood begins to boil.

Jesse…in Manda’s fucking frame.

Did Brett ask Caleb to make this for him?

No. No! There is no way he would have made this for Brett.

This is Manda’s!

My pulse begins to race and I fight to breathe. Anger rages through my veins, struggling to find it’s way out.

That fucking home-wrecking whore is inside my Manda’s frame.

I snatch it off the nightstand and sling it as hard as I can to the floor. It shatters the glass, but the sturdy frame remains intact. I roughly pull the picture out, purposely ripping it in half as I go.

Why in God’s name would Brett put her picture in Manda’s frame?

"Manda." I gasp her name out loud when just the thought of her isn’t tangible enough. "Fuck!" I scream.

Suddenly, a thought explodes into consciousness. Jesse must have stolen this from Caleb. Oh my God! She isn’t just replacing me—she’s trying to replace Manda as well.

The roaring in my ears becomes almost deafening as the very thought renders my mind unable to process anything else. My vision tunnels, blocking out everything around me except the severed picture in my hands. I purposely rip it again—this time dividing it directly across her face. She can fuck with me, but I will never allow her to make people forget about Manda. I fucking hate that manipulative bitch for even trying.

Then again, if I hadn’t murdered Manda, no one would even have the chance to forget her. Oh God, this is my fault.

"No!" I croak as I begin to hyperventilate. I might be the reason Manda is gone, but I am not going to let the world just move forward without her.

How is it so fucking easy for Brett and Caleb to move on without her?

Why am I the only one stuck?

Why? Fuck! Why?

Time is frozen as I stare at the jagged glass still attached to the inside of the frame. Right about now, it would feel fucking amazing slicing across my skin. And fitting. So. Fucking. Fitting. The silence it would give my mind is so attractive that it makes my mouth water. But I’m sick of playing games. If I’m going to end this once and for all, I’m taking her down with me. She has no right to try to fill Manda’s shoes. She can try to take Brett from me, but…she has no right to fill that frame!

I rush to Brett’s closet, praying that the combination on his safe is still set to my birthday. My hands are shaky, but I somehow manage to type in all the correct numbers. With a click, the door swings open, revealing three guns. I tuck one into my purse and head to the front door.

I’m over it. I’m over Brett.

I’m over trying to ruin his life.

I’m over my life as well.

Today, this ends for me…and Jesse too.

I suddenly snap back to the present. It’s been years since I’ve seen Brett Sharp. I saw him briefly the day Emma had the baby, but before that, the last time I laid eyes on him was while holding a gun after firing it at him. My stomach twists, and the guilt in my memories is more than enough to send me on a wild spiral downward. Tears fill my eyes and my legs become unsteady. I brace myself on Leo as the shame spreads like wildfire through my veins.

"I’ve got you,
ángel
. You’re my Sarah. Nobody else," Leo begins to eerily repeat in my ear. His innate ability to say all the right things has never been more unsettling—or appreciated.

I scour for the truth in his words. I search within myself as the broken bits crumble and I mentally try to piece them together.

"What the fuck?" I hear Brett growl, but Leo’s breath against my ear reels me back in from the approaching breakdown.

I focus on his warm arms, which make me feel safe and cared for—and, if I’m being honest with myself,
loved
. In some ways, Leo
only
knows the real Sarah. Then again, maybe it’s Brett who knows me—the terrible woman who put him through absolute hell. If I can’t distinguish the difference, how can I expect anyone else to? My hands begin to tremble and my mind races in circles between my past with Brett and my present with Leo. Seeing Brett isn’t the problem at all. But remembering who I was is searing.

"You’re not that person anymore," Leo whispers.

As much as I want to question how the fuck he is reading my mind, I allow his words to infiltrate my thoughts. I’m not that person anymore. At least I don’t feel like I am, and Leo’s words confirm it. I take a few deep breaths and finally get my emotions under control.

When I lift my head and swipe the tears from under my eyes, I give Leo a weak smile.

"Let’s get out of here." He brushes my hair off my neck, dragging his finger over my skin like he always does. And just like that, Leo does far more than just center me. He anchors me to his soul in a way that solidifies that I’ll never be the same without him.

"I’m okay," I mumble, pretending to be strong, all the while wishing I could crawl into a hole and sleep for a hundred years. I turn to face the rest of the group with Leo securely at my side. "Hi," I say softly, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

Brett’s eyes bounce between me and Leo, curiosity and confusion covering his face.

"Hey, Sarah," Jesse responds with a sweet smile.

"We’re out of here," Brett bites out, giving Caleb a nod but not bothering to acknowledge anyone else.

"Brett, wait. I can leave. You don’t have to," I call out, feeling horrible that, once again, even inadvertently, I’m ruining something for him.

"Don’t do me any favors, " he replies roughly.

"Hey," Leo interrupts, but I quickly silence him with a shake of the head.

"Right. Okay, then. I’m sorry, Jesse," I tell her around the lump in my throat.

For reasons known only to her, Brett’s new wife has always been kind to me. I don’t know her well, and she has more than enough reason to hate me. But even with all the hell I put her through, she spoke on my behalf at my sentencing and has reached out to me several times over the last few years, all of which has been behind Brett’s back.

"Don’t worry about it. Goodnight," she calls over her shoulder with a smile. Her eyes flash to Leo as Brett marches her out of the restaurant.

"Come on,
ángel
. I’ll take you home." Leo strokes a hand over my back.

"No. I’m okay. Really," I answer with an Oscar-winning smile. On the inside, I’m freaking the fuck out. "I’m just going to go fix my makeup. Come on. Let’s eat."

"You sure?" He eyes me warily.

"Of course," I say sweetly, securing my Golden Globe win as well.

"I already have to pee again anyway," Erica announces, bracing her swollen stomach.

"All right. Girls’ trip to the bathroom two point oh," Emma says, linking her arm through mine.

Not even a half second after the bathroom door closes behind us, I sprint to the big stall and dry heave into the toilet.

"You need to ignore Brett," Emma calls out. "He can be a real asshole sometimes."

"He’s not the asshole," I grumble from behind the closed door.

"No, but it’s more fun to talk shit about him than it is to listen to you puke," Emma states with a laugh.

My hands are sweating, and I lean against the wall as Erica decides to join the conversation.

"I dated this guy in college who used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear like, ‘You’d be really hot if you got a boob job.’ Unfortunately for my apparently small breasts, it didn’t work out. A few months ago, when news broke that I was with Slate, he tracked me down and asked to borrow ten thousand dollars. We all have an asshole ex."

"Brett’s not a bad guy. I’m his version of the guy who asked for money." I walk out of the stall and start washing my hands.

"We still all have them. Everyone gets a turn in life at being the asshole. We’re no exception," she replies, and I stare at her curiously. "Regrets will only hold you down. Own the wrongs and move on." She shrugs. "Come on. Let’s get back out there. If I know Slate and Leo, they are probably arguing about something by now. You going to be okay?"

"Yeah. I think I am. Sorry you had to witness that."

"Sarah, you never have to explain yourself to me. Just keep doing what you’re doing to make Leo happy and I’d be willing to forgive anything." She smiles kindly.

"Thank you," I say, returning her smile. Then I clean my face, apply lip gloss, and head back to Leo—needing to feel his touch more than ever.

"Hey,
ángel
." He stands from his chair as soon as I walk up.

I fold my arms around his waist and fill my lungs with as much of Leo as I can possibly hold. "I’m sorry about all that. That was—"

"The ex-husband. No biggie. Caleb filled me in."

My eyes immediately flash to Caleb, who gives his head the tiniest shake, letting me know that my secrets are still safe.

"Okay then." I slide into the booth with Leo right behind me.

The rest of the evening is spent laughing. I am quiet at first, but the atmosphere at the table is infectious. Caleb and Slate get along like old friends, and Erica is great too. It’s clear why she and Leo are such good friends. She’s really funny. A brief argument ensues at the table as all the guys fight over the check. Finally, it’s Erica who wins. She sneaks out to go to the bathroom and pays for it behind everyone’s backs.

Wednesday at five p.m.

Leo: I can’t make it tonight.

Me: Well, you suck. ;) Want to do lunch tomorrow?

Leo: I’ll let you know.

Thursday at ten a.m.

Me: Lunch?

Nine p.m.

Me: Hey, where you been today? I’ve missed you!

Eleven p.m.

Me: Okay, I’m starting to worry. Did you fall off the face of the Earth? This isn’t like you to not respond.