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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

“No clue, but those people you were with? I would stay away from them.”

I turned. “What people?”

Rosy sniffed the cougar’s head and licked its cheek.

“Some girl and a guy.”

A guy? “I was with a girlfriend,” I said, picturing me and Desiree lying in the grass, giggling like kids. “There was no guy.”

“Well, all I can tell ya is that I was out walking on the trail around back, and you and this couple were messing with the cougar cage.” He absentmindedly fondled the cougar’s rear paw. Tracy Summers was a natural mother. “So I shined my flashlight on y’all, and the couple ran. I didn’t get a good look at them. Your hand was bleeding pretty good so I brought you home and cleaned it. You zonked out. I rang your doorbell to tell your family, but no one answered.” He was also a mother hen and the neighborhood’s watchdog. “The guy left a pair of bolt cutters in the grass. Nice pair. Take them home with you. Then you’ll find out who the guy was. I’d imagine he’d want them back.”

I picked up the bolt cutters and stepped up the stairs. “Thank you for bandaging my hand.”

He nodded. “I don’t think a cougar bit you. I think it was the cage wire that got you.”

Both statements were equally fucked up.

74

74

I walked down Winding Way toward our house, my limbs heavy, the bolt cutters in my hand. The sun was too bright. My phone was missing. I was pissed at myself for letting Visha down.

I typed in the keycode to the garage.

My car was parked inside.

Some parts of last night were a blur, others were colorful and psychedelic. I didn’t remember parking the car in the garage, but Desiree’s bare shoulder brushing against mine lingered. Her puff of warm cigarette-kissed breath across my face, as she whispered, “I wish you were my sister.”

I dropped the bolt cutters near the garage door and went inside. The kitchen was dim and quiet. My heart ached for the kids. I missed Emily’s constant touches. Sawyer’s stingy grins and blazing eyes. We had our awkwardness, but I wanted that kid to feel peace and happiness. I wanted him to feel loved. And Trevor. Regardless of what he’d done, lied about, there had to be an explanation. He was the backbone of this family.

I grabbed a coffee mug from the cabinet. A photo collage mug made with family photos. The mug Trevor had declared my favorite. He was right. It was my favorite. I filled it with water and drank.