Page 52 of Indebted

Another ten minutes passed. I’d tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. I drew the line at leaving a whiny voicemail. I wasn’t his girlfriend, I was…his stepdaughter.

I could feel my old fears creeping up on me.

All the calls my mom didn’t take. Being left alone at school. Forgotten. Abandoned.

I gave up at the one-hour mark.

As I got up from my perch on the front step, headlights came up the drive.

My heart jumped.

It had to have been an emergency at the clinic.

“Justin!” I ran to the car only to draw up short when he got out. “What—?” I took in his dark wash jeans, the sexy black button up. Those weren’t work clothes. “Where have you been?” Because he didn’t look like he’d come to get me for a date. He looked like he’d just come from a date and my stomach tightened when I saw the missing button on the top of his shirt where it gaped open, exposing the smooth muscle of his throat and upper chest. His hair, usually swept away from his face, hung at his side, like someone else had run their hands through it.

I felt sick.

I couldn’t read the expression on his face and my gut sank even further.

“Well? Where the hell have you been?” I knew I sounded like a jealous girlfriend, but I couldn’t help it.

He looked tired. “Katie,” he scrubbed a hand down his face and for a second, I thought I caught a glance of something like remorse in his deep blue eyes. “Go home.”

The words cracked something inside me. I started to tremble. I didn’t know which emotion fueled it. Fear or anger. But I didn’t want to feel fear, so I concentrated on the anger.

“Fuck you, I deserve an answer. You invited me over. You made me believe you cared about me.” My lip trembled. “I thought you cared about me, but you don’t. You never did. You never will.”

I was back in high school, back to that day I’d seen my discarded letter. All my hopes and dreams crumpled. I hadn’t meant to voice all my fears. Not really.

Justin’s eyes widened.

I needed to leave. I was done making a fool of myself.

He didn’t want me.

Maybe he never did.

It was all some sick, twisted game. I pressed my hand to my heart to try and ease the pain inside, but it didn’t work.

“Katie, listen to me very carefully,” he tried to approach me but for every step he took toward me, I took two back. “This is for the best. Your future would be ruined, your program, my clinic…”

A manic laugh bubbled up my throat. “Your clinic? That’s what this is about? That’s all you care about?”

It hurt. It hurt so damn much.

His hands fisted, knuckles white. “The investor came to the clinic and overheard us, Katie. Do you have any idea what that kind of information would do for this project in its infancy? All the work, all those people…”

I couldn’t look at him anymore. “I get it. This is your dream.” He’d all but told that reporter when I’d first started. The clinic was his calling, a way for him to really help people—like he wanted to when he’d been my age and first started his career.

“It’s not only my dream, Katie. If that investor goes to the media… I mean shit, you saw how hungry that fucker Gracelyn was at the thought there was anything going on between us. This kind of media attention would pull you in and taint any kind of relationship you have with your buyer. That letter I wrote you?” He shook his head. “I should have never wrote it. It’s more condemning now than anything. It’s a direct link between us.”

His jaw clenched. He looked ready to punch someone out.

The cogs were turning in my head and the reality of what he was saying finally sank in through all my emotional distress.

No one would do business with me if they thought I’d slept with Justin to get a testimony.

I was going to be sick.