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Back Confess to Me Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Sharon Doering
  3. Title Page
  4. Dedication
  5. Prologue
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. 75
  81. 76
  82. 77
  83. 78
  84. 79
  85. Author’s Note
  86. Acknowledgements
  87. About the Author

Goddamn. Tracy Summers, of the glazed preacher eyes and barer of meat gifts, was calling me a dramatic pain in the ass. I had to give him credit though for warning me that Sawyer might be in with the wrong group of friends. I’d have to mention to Trevor that Sawyer might be sneaking out at night.

“I hate this place.” I hadn’t meant to say it aloud. “Thank you for the food. Thanks for telling me about the boys. I have to go.”

He gave me a two-finger salute. “So long, Chicago.”

I hustled to my car with my umbrella, clicked the unlock button, and turned back. “Tracy?”

He turned slowly, like an old man with a bad shoulder and a bad hip.

“What do you know about the Paulson kids? Like, quick summary.”

“Sinclaire’s a doctor. In Rochester, I think. Brandon’s got his fingers in shady businesses. I told you that. He gambles, has debts.” Tracy had told me that. It’s just that he hadn’t mentioned Brandon’s last name. “Pierce is a pig,” he said.

“Chauvinist or police officer?”

“Both. The type of guy who pushes people around, but his family’s money and power keep him out of trouble.”

“Right. Thanks.” I closed my umbrella, tossed it in the car, took the thermos out of the bag, and backed out of the driveway.

The thermos was nice. Aluminum with a sturdy cap. So nice, I would have to return it. Tracy Summers was interested in some sort of back-and-forth relationship.

I jiggled the thermos to clink the ice inside, opened it, and sipped. It was ice cold, mostly tasteless, and refreshing. Far better than Alice Paulson’s syrupy sweet tea. Tracy Summer’s Sun Tea. He really did have a fabulously girlie name.

By the time I pulled up to Emily’s school, sweat popped along my forehead and I felt chilled. Sickness was creeping in. My mind spun back to my conversation with Alice Paulson. She said her daughter Claire was bitter. That maybe she’d been too hard on Claire. You’re always hard on your first.

Tracy called her Sinclaire. Did she happen to go by Sin?

58

58

No running out of the school doors through the grass to meet me. No skipping. No smile. Emily walked with her eyes cast down.

“Hi, Em. I’m happy to see you,” I said. Sweat slipped down my sides, and my stomach cramped.

She ignored me, but slipped her hand in mine.

I tipped my umbrella over her head as we walked. “I’m sorry if you had a bad day, Emily. I’ll listen if you want.”

“I can’t believe I have no cousins. I mean, you had four brothers and sisters. That’s a lot.” What brought this on? Likely one of her classmates had been describing a big family party.

“You have Sawyer,” I said. “He’s better than cousins.”