Now she gets angry and plucks the baby from her breast, making her squeal, as clearly five minutes of feeding is not enough. She starts to get up and I grab her by the waist and force her to stay. “Let go,” she snarls over the baby’s wails.

“No.” I say calmly. “Feed her, Ashleigh. And tell me which way you’d like to do this. Answer my question, or I call Jason and figure out who you are myself.”

“Fine,” she says as she positions the baby over her breast again. “I’m coming from Texas and going to LA.”

She said she was a Stars fan, so that makes sense. But then again… “That makes no sense. Why not just go across New Mexico and into Arizona? Why come north?”

She bites her lip and scrunches up her face as she thinks. Is this a lying pause? Ronin would know, but I’m not as good at this lie-detector shit as he is, so I’m not sure. “I just needed more time. That’s all.” She looks me in the eye and repeats it. “I just wasn’t ready to face things yet, I just wanted a little more time, so I took the scenic route.”

I sit back and laugh. “The scenic route? Through the f**king Rocky Mountains in the dead of winter? Are you crazy?”

“I didn’t know it was so…”

“Cold? Dangerous? Wild? It’s the f**king mountains!”

“I get it now, obviously. But I’m more of a beach person, so I didn’t understand it might be dangerous.”

“What part of LA are you going to?” She might actually be from Texas, but I think her destination is a lie. She heard me tell my mother I was driving to LA on the phone. I think she’s just telling me what I want to hear.

“Westwood. I’m going to Westwood. Satisfied?” she asks with a sneer.

“Hardly. Why are you going there? What’s in LA?”

She takes a deep breath like she’s about to say something important, and then she looks me in the eye. “Tell me why you’re going to LA and then I’ll tell you why I’m going.”

I smile. “You think that’s cute?”

“I think you’re running away. At least I’m running to something.”

Ouch. “Tell me why right now, or I get the car warmed up for a nice drive to Denver.”

She shakes her head and tries to stop the tears, but they roll down her face anyway. A few seconds later I realize she’s holding her breath to stop the sobs, but it starts coming out in ugly gasps.

I sigh and lean back into the uncomfortable modern piece-of-shit couch. “OK, stop. Please.” She doesn’t stop and the baby starts fussing. “Ashleigh—”

“I need to talk to him one more time, OK?” She looks up at me and she is a f**king mess—her eyes are wild and bloodshot, her face is all contorted as she tries to hold it together but simply fails, her skin is pale like she hasn’t slept in weeks, and that coupled with the crying baby makes her look like some poor teen mom from a bad MTV reality show. “Is that a good enough answer for you? I just need to talk to him one more time.” And then she gets up and bolts towards the bedroom before I can grab her.

Chapter Fifteen

I sit in the living room listening to Ashleigh as she concentrates on the baby in the bedroom. She calms her down pretty fast, but her own loud erratic breathing is hard to miss. I lean over and hold my head in my hands as I think this through.

She’s probably insane. Total nutjob. She might be stalking her ex, who knows.

I sit like this for a while, just thinking, and then I hear her playing games in there. “Peek-a-boo.”

The baby squeals, but not in a bad way. She’s laughing.

Ashleigh says it again. More squealing laughter—and then Ash is laughing too. Hell, even I smile.

OK, maybe she’s not nuts. She’s just sad. She has a new baby. The father—for whatever reason—is gone. That’s gotta hurt. She’s got herself into some whackjob of a road trip and maybe she really is going to LA. Maybe she can save whatever it is she’s missing right now. If I were her, wouldn’t I try?

I definitely would. Yeah. I’d give it a shot.

I scrub my hands down my face, get up, and get to the open bedroom door just in time to see the baby laugh. That’s a cure for just about anything. Ashleigh looks a thousand times better already, just because she’s smiling. They’re lying down on the bed. She leans over the baby, her long hair falling over to cover her face. And then they giggle like girls. I reach into my pocket and take a phone picture of them because it’s sorta cute.

The shutter sound gives me away and Ash sits up real fast. “Look,” she says with a hitch in her breath from crying. “I’m sorry, I’m just hormonal, OK? I can’t help it. I miss him.” She has to stop and pull it together here, but she manages and that makes me feel better. She’s just sad.

“I understand, Ashleigh, I do. But if you really are going to LA and not lying to me, then I’m gonna have to take you with me. I’ll have your car delivered to wherever you want when it’s done. But I can’t leave you here alone. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

I half expect a little fight over my perceived opinion of her state of mind, but she just nods. “That is where I’m going, Ford. So thank you. And for what it’s worth, I realize it’s over. That life is over. I get it.” She stops to wait for a response, so I give her a nod. “It’s over,” she says again, trying to talk herself into it. “It’s over. And I just have to accept it.” For a second I think she’s about to cry again but she swallows hard and wipes the tears. “And once I talk to him, I swear, I’ll let it go.” It takes her a few seconds to meet my gaze, but she does it. “I’ll let him go, I just have so much to say.” Her chin starts quivering and shit, it sorta tugs at my heart, all this sadness from her.