The One That I Want (Scorned Women Society Book 3) by Piper Sheldon (e book reader android txt) 📕

“Well, this is just a little closer, don’t you think? Also, it’s mostly cement, so the mosquitoes aren’t as bad.”

“Mozzies. Evil bastards.” I swatted at my neck just thinking about them.

“Swing or spin?” she asked.

“Let’s start with the swings.”

That way if she felt like sharing, we wouldn’t be facing each other. I found that Skip was more likely to open up that way.

“As teenagers we would come here, Gretchen and I, when things were shitty or we were bored. She’d stay with me when my parents forgot to pick me up.” Her voice cracked. “I smoked my first cigarette over there when I was eleven.” She pointed to a tunnel on the jungle gym. “We hid in there and thought we were so cool.”

“When I was eleven, my dad was taking me on camping trips,” I said not sure why. “Do you miss Gretchen?” I asked hoping to keep her as the topic of conversation.

She looked sad and distant. “Yeah. I’m remembering some of the things she did to distract me when my parents forgot about me.”

“She’s a good friend?”

“She is.” Roxy slowed her swing and drifted back and forth. “I pushed her away when I should have just talked to her.”

“It’s a defense mechanism.”

“I’m a walking defense mechanism.”

“Can you call her?” I asked.

“I almost did. Still working through things.”

“Is that what’s got you down tonight?” I slowed my swing to move in tandem with her.

“No. I just talked to my parents and that always sets me off.”

“I understand,” I said honestly.

“I’m sorry. You just lost your dad. I shouldn’t complain.”

“You can be frustrated with your parents even though mine are dead. Want to talk about it?”

She glanced over at me. “There’s not much to say. They don’t know me. They never have. They liked me best when I brought booze from the bar and partied with them. Now, we’re mostly strangers.”

“It’s hard when we realize our parents are just people.”

She made a hum of agreement. “So why were you about to go hiking in the dark with another storm blowing in?”

As though hearing her question, the wind picked up and blew her fringe and hair all around her.

“Ah, no reason,” I said.

“Hey.” She kicked my foot. “I showed you mine,” she said with a teasing smile.

I grabbed her feet with mine and gripped her so we faced each other, rocking a little. I couldn’t meet her eyes though.

“Honestly, nothing happened. Not sure why I got so down. Skip was just telling me about this camping trip with Ford and then my dad’s home called. I need to go get his stuff from the care facility.”

“I’m sorry. That must be so hard.”

I rubbed my chest. Above us, heavy gray shapes covered the stars.

“I’m just happy he’s at peace now,” I said. It was my canned answer. She must have sensed that.

“How are you really feeling?”

“I’m fine.” I smiled and released her legs to face away. She didn’t let me. She looped her legs around my thighs, bringing us closer.

The heat, as always, was there in an instant.

“Roxy, I don’t want to talk about this. It’s too ...”

Hard? Depressing? Pointless?

“Who do you talk to about it?” she asked ignoring me.

I rubbed the heartburn from my esophagus.

“I don’t have anything to say. It won’t change anything.” My skin started to itch. Even feeling the weight of her legs on me wasn’t distracting enough.

“It might help you process.” Her legs tightened, not letting me move even an inch. I was being held captive and any other time I would have loved it but I didn’t want to talk about this.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because I am fine. Why don’t you or Skip seem to understand that? I’m glad he’s not suffering anymore,” I said feeling my voice rise despite my attempt to be cool.

“You can be upset. Nobody would blame you. You can feel what you feel.”

The words were too close to the truth I clung to desperately. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t feel her body on mine. I couldn’t talk about my dad for a second more. I couldn’t sit here feeling like my chest was being pried open and she was gripping my heart in her hands.

I broke out from her grip and stood up.

“Sanders!” she said affronted.

“Roxy, I don’t want to do this.”

“That’s bullshit!” she yelled and I stopped in my retreat and turned back to her.

“What?” I asked feeling sad and defeated.

“You pushed and pushed me. I opened up about things in my past I never wanted to share. I shared with you, Sanders. And you can’t do the same for me? You can’t let me help you?”

“There’s nothing to help. I’m fine,” I said, tossing out my arms. “I’ve had a charmed life. I’ve got nothing to complain about.”

“That’s bullshit. You can’t even look at me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. As far as I’m concerned, I’m glad my father is dead!”

Her face went blank. As soon as I said the words, a crushing wave of guilt crashed over me. I had felt that way for so long but to say it out loud made me feel like the lowest level of scum. I shook my head, furious at her. At myself. She pushed me too far. She couldn’t relent.

“Fuck!” I yelled. “Why couldn’t you just listen to me when I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

The pain in my chest was so acute I had to stop talking and focus on my breathing. I stopped and bent forward and dropped my hands to my knees, half bent over.

She stepped closer until I could see her shoes in front of me. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know how you meant it.”

It was too late though. I’d said it. I put it out there like an absolute piece of shit.

Roxy

Sanders was half crumpled in front of me. I had pushed him too far and I regretted hurting him.

“I’m sorry,” I said again.

When I put my hand on his shoulder,