“Meaning I am one?”
Rain’s grin was sheepish. “I mean you’re you, Rach.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I sniped.
“Not particularly. But if you had a dick, they wouldn’t call you bitch. It’s just that people expect you to be a certain way because you’re a girl, but you’re kinda masculine in how you respond to stuff—”
I gaped at him. “Rain, you need to shut up before you dig yourself a deeper grave.”
He chuckled. “I’m always one foot in a grave with you anyway.” He leaned over the counter and smacked a kiss to my cheek before he pulled back, drained his mug, and got to his feet. “You don’t normally care what people think of you, Rach. I don’t think you should let Scott get under your skin.”
Because he thought I was a bitch too.
Wow.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been hurt because I knew he didn’t think it was a flaw in my character, but I was.
He was accustomed to me being a bitch and didn’t know any other side of me.
And he perceived all that without knowing that I’d given up my baby for adoption, which would only lead to extra judgment.
Because, after all, what woman gave up her kid?
My teeth ached from how hard I ground down on them at the thought.
Like I’d had a say in things.
Like it was my fault I hadn’t been fit to parent my daughter…
He bussed me on the cheek, telling me, “I love you whether you are or not, so that’s all that matters, right?”
I didn’t answer.
As he wandered off, muttering something about an essay he needed to complete before he headed for his shift at Crosskeys, the country club where he worked, I tried not to feel like he’d stabbed me.
Apparently, my baby brother wasn’t as perceptive as I’d thought.
My throat was tight and thick with emotions that I didn’t know what to do with. A part of me could have puked; the other part wanted to cry.
With how weird my body was behaving right now, I might have been able to do both at the same time.
Truth was, I didn’t mind if the rest of the world thought I was a bitch. I lived up to the title in the courtroom and with my clients; it was, after all, one way of corralling the bunch of criminals that called me their attorney.
But first Scott, then Rain?
Ouch.
Scott: Andrea fell in the shower. She almost lost Sarah.
Rachel: I’m sorry to hear that. I’m glad she’s safe now.
Scott: I shouldn’t have said the things I did.
Rachel: No, you shouldn’t have.
Scott: Forgive me?
Scott: Rachel?
Scott: Fine. I didn’t even want to say sorry anyway. Craig just said that I should be the bigger person.
Rachel: You didn’t say sorry, and I don’t think you’re capable of being the bigger person. It’s okay if you lose my number.
FIVE
REX
“Do you think I’m a bitch?”
There was no part of me that was ready for this conversation.
Not even on a good day. Which today definitely wasn’t.
I rubbed my bleary eyes and turned away from the fridge to find Rachel standing close by.
She was being serious.
Although that was probably proof that exhaustion was slowing me down because when wasn’t Rachel serious?
“You’re talking to me?” That wasn’t wishful thinking, either.
She frowned. “Who else?”
Rach had a point—there was no one else in the kitchen.
But that wasn’t what I meant.
“You don’t talk to me after we have sex.”
It had been nearly a week since we’d fucked at the hospital, and she’d been ignoring me as was her usual MO.
Normally, it took her a good month before she approached me again via anything other than email or text.
Her brow furrowed. “That’s not true.”
“It is.”
I almost chuckled at her scowl and dipped my head into the refrigerator to grab a bottle of that water kefir stuff. Its promise to help with my gut health wasn’t the reason I drank it though. It tasted damn good—and I didn’t give a fuck if that wasn’t very ‘Satan’s Sinners’ of me either.
Twisting off the cap, I was on the brink of drinking it down with a gulp when she stormed over and snatched the bottle from me.
“That’s mine.”
I arched a brow at her. “Want me to give you a dollar for it?”
She huffed. “I want you to answer the question.”
“Which one?”
“Am I a bitch?”
Yawning, I asked, “This is either a trap or some kind of joke, right?”
“No. I want to know what you think.”
“You’re a bitch for taking the drink when you don’t want it,” I grumbled.
Her mouth tightened as she stared down at the bottle, then she shoved it at me. “Never mind. And it’s more like four dollars you owe me.”
Four freakin’ dollars?
Holy hell and there was me drinking a couple of these whenever I was in the house.
Before I could apologize, she marched over to the other side of the kitchen. I heaved a sigh as I watched her go and took a sip.
Not as good as JD, but I couldn’t exactly ride to the hospital later if I was jacked up on whiskey.
Pulling out the makings of a sandwich, I grabbed some bread and shoved a few slices in the toaster, aware that she was hovering over by the window and staring out into the yard.
Her voice was small as she told me, “Scott said I threw Wynter away.”
I stilled at that. “Scott’s a jackass. I told you a long time ago to cut him out of your life. He’s a toxic prick.”
“I doubt we’ll be keeping in touch anymore.”
“Good.”
When she gnawed on her bottom lip, I could have slammed my fist into Scott’s head.
Rachel made an ice sculpture look effusive. Her face was about as expressive as a still lake on a fall day. Nervous gestures like biting her lip were the girl of old, not the woman of today.
I missed that girl something fucking fierce, but it didn’t mean I liked the fact that her so-called best friend had hurt her feelings.
“Scott told me I could never understand what he was going through because I—” She swallowed. “—let Wynter go.”
We never talked about Wynter.
Ever.
It just wasn’t something we did.
For both our sanity’s sake.
Mine because it killed me that we’d given up our kid. Hers because life had broken her before she’d given birth.
The woman I’d known would have made an excellent mother. The woman who’d given birth to Wynter had been a broken shell, a wreckage shaped like the Rach I loved.
Shoving those miserable thoughts aside, I settled my gaze on her. “Do you care what he thinks?”
“Obviously,” she sniped, “or I wouldn’t have asked you.”
“You don’t normally give a damn about other people’s opinions.” I arched a brow at her. “You’re the one with a client list that would impress the Joker.”