Page 85 of Slapshot Bride

“Riley, Sweetheart, where are you?”

“I-I’m safe, mom. I’m staying with a friend.”

“A friend we know? Where? I’ll come pick you up now, if you can just tell me where you’ve been. I’ll tell your dad, Mason, Preston… We’ll… We’ll all be there for you, honey.”

Listening to her breaks my heart all over again. She still doesn’t see it. She doesn’t get it.

She still believes everything will go back to how it’s always been. With me. With Preston. The fairytale he’s sold to them. She doesn’t understand.

“Mom…” A lone tear rolls down my cheek, and my chest constricts.

Maybe the call was a mistake. Maybe it’s too early to believe they’ll see him for who he is and stand up for me.

“Riley, your father is beside himself. Preston has been devastated. He came to see us this evening. He was so upset, he…”

My heart skips.

He met them after he left here. He’s told them.

“He has been so patient with all of this, Riley. He understands that you have been struggling. He just wants to talk. He’s searched for you all over, but no traces. Please come home. Or at least give up your location. I’ll come for you myself. If you don’t want to see him yet, that’s understandable. But please promise me you’ll be home soon.”

He didn’t tell them.

That scares me more. He knows where I’ve been but hasn’t revealed it.

Preston has never been that nice. This is another strategy. He’s plotting.

My heart races as I think of the possible headlines that’ll come up soon.

Famous Hockey Player, Easton Blake, kidnaps the Sinclair Bride? Has an affair with Preston Sinclair’s fiancée?

Oh God…

He’s up to something. The freaking bastard.

I need to leave Easton’s home. Need to get out of this city. Move to a new place.

“We’ve all been so worried about you, Riley. But the poor man has been through hell. He looks a mess. You need to…”

“Mom!” My voice comes out harsher than I intend.

A wave of remorse immediately hits me, but that gets her to keep quiet.

I exhale.

“Mom. Listen to me.”

I close my eyes. There’s no point hiding it anymore. I need to spell it out.

“I'm not coming back to Preston. Not in a week. Not in a month. Not in a year. I'm done. I need you to hear me when I say that. I'm done.”

“Riley.”

“I can't tell you everything yet. I'm not ready.” My voice wavers. “But when I am, I'll tell you everything.”

I swallow hard. “I'm just asking you to wait until then before you decide what to believe. Please.”

A tear slips down my cheek.