exactly?”
“Teagan.” I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, stifling a groan.
More silence followed, longer this time, until I couldn’t stomach it a second longer.
“Uh…Teagan Connolly,” I added, voice high and squeaky. “From Thirteenth Street–”
“I know who you are!” he responded with a bark. “What I want to know is why you’re calling me now?” The bitterness in his voice stunned me and I took a moment to steel myself.
“I’m so sorry about your mother, Noah,” I blurted out, biting the skin on my knuckles anxiously. “I wanted to call you and…well, I just wanted to tell you that.”
I heard his cruel, harsh laugh seconds before his voice was bellowing in my eardrum. “Let me get this straight,” Noah sneered. “You’re calling me, after five years of nothing , to offer your condolences?” He laughed again, crueler than before if that was even possible, before saying, “You’re some piece of work, Thorn – calling me now, with less than three weeks left to serve.”
“That is not why I called you and you know it,” I snapped, feeling flustered and hurt. “I was worried about you. God, Noah, I know how you felt about your mother.”
I opened my mouth to say something else, but he beat me to it, and with his words he buried any hope I ever had for us.
“Don’t worry about me,” he sneered. “In fact, don’t fucking think about me at all. Forget I even exist, Teagan, just like I forgot about you!”
The line went dead, and I sat, frozen to the bone, as his words of malice began to slowly sink in.
All the years I had held myself back from moving on had been pointless because Noah Messina hated me more than I hated him.
It was really over for us.
And my heart was breaking all over again.
“THAT IS NOT WHY I CALLED YOU and you know it,” Teagan hissed. “I was worried about you. God, Noah, I know how you felt about your mother.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I interjected, feeling more furious than I had in years. She had some nerve, calling me up after all this time. “In fact, don’t fucking think about me at all. Forget I even exist, Teagan, just like I forgot about you!”
And then I hung up on her.
“Goddammit to hell!”
Slamming the receiver down over and over again, I tried to rein in the tsunami of emotions raging through me.
“That fucking woman!”
Anger, pain, and most predominately lust, hit me straight in the chest like a fucking wrecking ball. Followed swiftly by a huge churn of regret.
Why the fuck did I hang up on her?
Grabbing the receiver I held it to my ear. “Thorn, you still there, baby?”
Nothing.
Fuck.
Slamming the receiver back down, I stalked back to my cell.
That night, instead of having nightmares about my mother’s last moments on this earth, I dreamt of Thorn.
One phone call.
One fucking call after five years and I was a mess.
Christ, I felt like a dog that had been thrown a bone, a scrap of hope.
Somewhere, deep down inside, there was a part of Teagan that still cared about me and I held onto that thought like it was my last lifeline.
Thorn was still out there, thinking about me, worrying… waiting .
All of a sudden, the prospect of my impending freedom was more appealing than ever.
All of a sudden, I had a goal.
I was getting out of here next month, and when I did, I was going to sign any contract or deal the MFA threw in my direction – I knew they were still interested.
When I had all of that done, I would go and get my Thorn, because there was no way in hell I was turning up empty-handed and broke. No, I was going to make something of myself, something good.
And then I was going to make her regret walking away from me – regret leaving me high and dry when I needed her most.
Knowing I could never trust her again wasn’t enough to deter me – I was going to make her love me so hard she would never contemplate leaving me again.
I was taking back what had always been mine, and Thorn was
“Teagan.” I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, stifling a groan.
More silence followed, longer this time, until I couldn’t stomach it a second longer.
“Uh…Teagan Connolly,” I added, voice high and squeaky. “From Thirteenth Street–”
“I know who you are!” he responded with a bark. “What I want to know is why you’re calling me now?” The bitterness in his voice stunned me and I took a moment to steel myself.
“I’m so sorry about your mother, Noah,” I blurted out, biting the skin on my knuckles anxiously. “I wanted to call you and…well, I just wanted to tell you that.”
I heard his cruel, harsh laugh seconds before his voice was bellowing in my eardrum. “Let me get this straight,” Noah sneered. “You’re calling me, after five years of nothing , to offer your condolences?” He laughed again, crueler than before if that was even possible, before saying, “You’re some piece of work, Thorn – calling me now, with less than three weeks left to serve.”
“That is not why I called you and you know it,” I snapped, feeling flustered and hurt. “I was worried about you. God, Noah, I know how you felt about your mother.”
I opened my mouth to say something else, but he beat me to it, and with his words he buried any hope I ever had for us.
“Don’t worry about me,” he sneered. “In fact, don’t fucking think about me at all. Forget I even exist, Teagan, just like I forgot about you!”
The line went dead, and I sat, frozen to the bone, as his words of malice began to slowly sink in.
All the years I had held myself back from moving on had been pointless because Noah Messina hated me more than I hated him.
It was really over for us.
And my heart was breaking all over again.
“THAT IS NOT WHY I CALLED YOU and you know it,” Teagan hissed. “I was worried about you. God, Noah, I know how you felt about your mother.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I interjected, feeling more furious than I had in years. She had some nerve, calling me up after all this time. “In fact, don’t fucking think about me at all. Forget I even exist, Teagan, just like I forgot about you!”
And then I hung up on her.
“Goddammit to hell!”
Slamming the receiver down over and over again, I tried to rein in the tsunami of emotions raging through me.
“That fucking woman!”
Anger, pain, and most predominately lust, hit me straight in the chest like a fucking wrecking ball. Followed swiftly by a huge churn of regret.
Why the fuck did I hang up on her?
Grabbing the receiver I held it to my ear. “Thorn, you still there, baby?”
Nothing.
Fuck.
Slamming the receiver back down, I stalked back to my cell.
That night, instead of having nightmares about my mother’s last moments on this earth, I dreamt of Thorn.
One phone call.
One fucking call after five years and I was a mess.
Christ, I felt like a dog that had been thrown a bone, a scrap of hope.
Somewhere, deep down inside, there was a part of Teagan that still cared about me and I held onto that thought like it was my last lifeline.
Thorn was still out there, thinking about me, worrying… waiting .
All of a sudden, the prospect of my impending freedom was more appealing than ever.
All of a sudden, I had a goal.
I was getting out of here next month, and when I did, I was going to sign any contract or deal the MFA threw in my direction – I knew they were still interested.
When I had all of that done, I would go and get my Thorn, because there was no way in hell I was turning up empty-handed and broke. No, I was going to make something of myself, something good.
And then I was going to make her regret walking away from me – regret leaving me high and dry when I needed her most.
Knowing I could never trust her again wasn’t enough to deter me – I was going to make her love me so hard she would never contemplate leaving me again.
I was taking back what had always been mine, and Thorn was
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