Steadfast (True North, #2)

by Sarina Bowen

“You don’t want to hear this crap.” I pushed up on an elbow, giving up a kiss from Jude for the first time that I could remember. “Actually, I do.”

I pinched him again, and he rolled onto my body for a kiss. And we were both smiling.

Somehow I’d slept the whole night through. While grinning at my ceiling, I had a private chuckle. Sex had thrown a switch and put me right to sleep.

“In the first place, I didn’t have a new dealer.” The guy all but rolled his mean little eyes. “Gavin Haines, asshole. Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

it was time to go to the Shipleys’ dinner. Thank fuck.

He knew Sophie hadn’t had a boyfriend before, and he’d never rush her. And the wait would be totally worth it. The rule he’d made about her eighteenth birthday was meant to help him stay strong—to make the moment less arbitrary.

“Uh…uh…uh…unnngh. TRACE!” a male voice shouts. Jude and Sophie stare at each other for a second before they both burst out laughing. Jude wraps her into a hug

“I listened to my friends moaning for twenty minutes before you got here, because I was afraid to leave the living room in case I missed your knock. And I have been waiting a long time for you to have sex with me. If you don’t whip it out right now, I may not be responsible for my actions.”

Love you, his tongue says against hers. Need you, her hips say against his.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he grunts out. “Take off your jeans.” She lifts her chin. “You first.”

She stands up and sheds her jeans and a little pair of white panties, while Jude quietly dies five times over.

She kneels over him, her breasts right in his face. If he died right now he would still consider this a perfect life.

He’d wanted to make her first time perfect.

High on victory and satisfaction, he drops his face into her neck and whispers all the sweet, lovesick things he can think of. And every one of them is true.

I walked into the church kitchen with fear in my heart. But this time I wasn’t afraid that Jude would be there. Instead, I was afraid he wouldn’t be.

Somehow I’d already begun measuring my time in terms of Wednesdays.

I was gone for him. Always had been.

“I’m leaving my door open tonight in case you feel like swinging by.” “Okay.” My knees felt wobbly. But I knew they’d be wobbling right over to Jude’s place after the dinner service was over.

Jude had shored me up in so many ways. The least I could do was show a little faith. And what’s more, he’d always told me that I could beat the odds.

First thing I remember is getting smacked around in an interrogation room.” Wait. “They hit you?”

I may be the dumbest guy you know, but you’re going to have to do a little better than ‘I changed my mind.’” I craned my neck to look at him. “You’re not the dumbest guy I know. Not by a long mile.”

“I count down the days until Wednesday,” he whispered. “Keeps me sane, knowing that if I stay strong all week I get to see you.”

Until he’d showed up again I hadn’t realized how lonely I was.

“Have a good week. I’ll be thinking about you.” “I’ll be thinking about you, too. Every day,”

“I wish I could just tuck you in and let you sleep.” She’d sighed. “Me too.” But we couldn’t do that, and we both knew it.

It’s not a relationship, I reminded myself. Just two people relieving some sexual tension on Wednesday nights. That’s all we could ever be. And even while I wanted more, this arrangement prevented me from relying too much on Sophie’s company.

I walked everywhere else I needed to go. The police had made me into the most eco-friendly resident of Colebury. Griff Shipley would be so proud.

“Bye,” I said, instead of I love you. Saying it out loud would only be more depressing. Because I couldn’t have her. Not for keeps. “Bye,” she’d said instead of I love you, too.

I got cleaned up and then took a walk to Crumbs. I’d become quite the regular customer. Their cakes were far from cheap, but they were quality. And K.K. was my new bff. She usually gave me a free cookie for the road.

Across the table from her sat a guy. Shit. As my stomach bottomed out,

we hadn’t run into each other like this before, and to watch her actually ignore me gave me heartburn. It really drove the reality of the situation home—all I would ever get were a few stolen moments. No more than that.

“If one of my dad’s deputies had a hunch that we were…” She cleared her throat. “They’d harass you.” This was true. They were harassing me already, but I wasn’t going to worry her about it.

“Soph, you should go on as many dates as you want. With people you don’t have to pretend not to recognize.” There was a deep silence on her end of the line. “I don’t want to date anybody, Jude.”

“What? Tell me how this ends.” “I don’t want it to end at all.”

When I was released from prison, people told me to “stay out of trouble.” But what the fuck do you do if trouble comes looking for you?

Chopping onions at the kitchen counter made me think of Jude. Hell, everything made me think of him.

My honesty was a gift that I chose to bestow on the people who deserved it. And lately, Jude was the one who best fit that description.

I wanted to stand next to him in a kitchen somewhere and watch him work, without having to disguise my interest. Hell, I wanted to stand together in our kitchen. Wherever that mythical place might be.

“I was wondering if you edited out the photos to take it easy on me, though.” “Well, I would have considered it, except there weren’t any.”

I began to list every detail that bothered me. 1. Jude waives rights, but Jude is wasted. 2. Where were they going that night? 3. No photos of the car. Why? 4. No mention of drugs found? Yet Jude was charged with possession. 5. Two tox screens? 6. Wrong door/side in notes

These days I was more patient with bodywork. I liked the idea that rough patches could be sanded out and that bumps could be smoothed again. If not in my life, than on a car.

I feel like you’re ducking me. That makes you just another person in my life who won’t tell me the truth. You’re supposed to be the one who does, Jude. You.”

She peered up at me, and I saw judgment in her eyes. I’m sure I deserved it, too.

“You think that’s bad? Tell us where the shit is or I will finish you.” Not cops. Fuck.

There was no way to text him to confirm any of these theories. I hated how tricky it was to reach him, so I’d bought Jude a pre-paid phone for Christmas.

“Everything okay?” Denny asked. “Sure, why?” “Because you’ve been staring at that oven door for a long time.”

The truth was that I’d never be able to look at Jude with the same naive eyes as my teenage self. Even if he and I were able to be a normal couple, I might always worry about him turning to drugs.

That first night when Jude had appeared, we were serving this same meal. I’d been comically distracted by his presence. And now I was distracted by his absence.

I felt drugged. My eyes flew open again. Wrenching my head to the side, I peered up at the IV bag again.

Fucking painkillers. I’d had six months! Six whole fucking months. And some asshole doctor just fucked me over.