She sniffled loudly. “You?”
“God, no,” the horrified words were fueled by years of watching my mom go through boyfriends and husbands like it was a game. But even as my mind rebelled against the idea, a pit of jealousy opened up in my stomach at the thought of Reed with anyone else.
“Then why did you kiss him?” Nora yelled. “You say mean things about him and you always tell him to leave. You’re mean to my Reed—maybe you’re the really bad person and not my mom.” A sob left her as she crossed her arms stubbornly. “You can’t kiss my Reed, and you can’t take him when he’s here. He used to talk to me all, all, all the time, and now he always wants to talk to you.”
“You can’t demand a person’s full attention, Nora,” I said as I stood. “You have to be okay if people want to talk to someone who isn’t you—it doesn’t matter who they are. What if I said Lala couldn’t talk to you, she could only talk to me? Would that bother you?”
She murmured her assent after a beat of hesitation.
I nodded and started for the door. “I’m sorry you feel like I’m taking people from you. I promise I’m not,” I said before slipping back into the hall and downstairs.
“Oh, well, isn’t this news of you and Reed just so exciting?” Lala asked as soon as I was in the kitchen.
“Lala . . .”
“Don’t you start that with me again because I’ve seen you with him recently, and I know how you feel about him. So, don’t you go telling me none of that nonsense you’re trying to make . . . yourself . . . believe.” Lala’s expression fell when she noticed the way my chin was trembling. “What happened with Nora?”
“Nothing, no,” I said quickly, my voice thick. “Not her.”
If I hadn’t been so utterly exhausted, I would’ve been horrified that I was on the verge of crying.
If it weren’t Reed, I wouldn’t be at that point at all.
“Everything Reed’s done . . . God, Lala, I don’t know of anyone who would do what Reed does. I don’t think anyone would care to take the time that he has. He asks if he can take a step closer to me. He asks me to reach out so that I’m the one who touches him first. He told me he was going to kiss me unless I told him not to. He told me he’d leave the house if I asked him to.”
Affection softened Lala’s features, but worry still lined the creases around her eyes.
Probably because she hadn’t seen me like this in so, so long.
“In my head, I knew I needed to stop him, make him leave, anything . . . but I couldn’t. Then he kissed me.”
I sat there, replaying it as I had so many times throughout the night and early morning.
Before that moment, I’d never been kissed in that way. Full of need in a way that was gentle and adoring and everything that was Reed.
I’d never been kissed by anything less than unwelcome force.
“I’ve never experienced anything so pure or beautiful,” I whispered. “But it shook my world in a terrifying way. Because I knew I was falling too fast, and I knew in that kiss that I would give my last breath to experience it again. That’s when the panic and worry and reality set in. For the first time, I knew a man had the ability to break me, and I was so afraid of giving him the power to. Of giving him any part of myself. And I freaked out and pushed him away.”
Lala gave a slow dip of her head. “And are some people in this room still pushing him away?”
I tried to smile, but it fell flat. “I have to. I know you see him as this perfect man, and maybe he is, but he isn’t for me. He can’t be.”
“Or maybe he could if you’d just let him.”
“Lala—”
“You’ve only been around fiends and assholes your entire life. Don’t count the good ones out before they have a chance to surprise you.” She sighed as if what she was about to say didn’t matter either way and said, “Reed doesn’t have to be the one who does that, but I think it would do you a whole lotta good to consider opening up your heart to someone for the first time in your life.”
I stared at the floor, but my thoughts were on gunmetal eyes and a wicked smirk.
“I think it would do you a whole lotta good to let someone heal some of those scars on your heart.”
My stare shot over to her and got caught up in the worry and pain and comfort there.
I wanted to tell her she didn’t understand what that meant—what that would entail. No one would understand the wraiths that lived to torment me and the demons that lingered in my bed. Baggage was something in a relationship, I knew.
But not mine.
Lala blew out a long sigh, a distant look in her eyes. “I was engaged to be married to a man.” Her head bobbed subtly. “A man I loved very much. Our wedding was planned, nearly every detail in place. Oh, I was so ready to marry him.” She fell silent for a while before muttering, “There was an accident at the train yard he worked at—he and a few others didn’t make it.”
I sucked in a quick, audible breath. “Lala, no . . .”
Her shining eyes shifted to me. “I was sure I would never love again. That I would spend the rest of my life alone—I wanted to spend the rest of my life alone. But then I met your grandfather.” A wistful smile crossed her face. “It was a chance encounter, truly. My girlfriends and I were walking to the theater and passed by the diner just as some men came walking out. They didn’t live here, were only visiting and leaving the next day. But I knew the moment I saw your grandfather that I was looking at my future. From the way he stopped at the door and just stared at me, I was sure he knew it too. I didn’t go to the theater that night. He and I ended up going back into the diner and talking until closing.”
“Did he leave the next day?” I asked when she didn’t go on.
My grandpa had died a few years after I was born, and my mom hadn’t ever talked about either of her parents unless it was about getting money from Lala. So, I didn’t know a thing about him.
Lala dipped her head in a slow nod. “He did, and I was oddly heartbroken. I felt like I’d lost my entire world, yet I’d only known him for a few hours. But I was walking to the store a few days later, and there he was, asking every single person who passed by if they knew me.” Her eyes brightened. “I married your grandpa not even a week later.”
My mouth dropped open in shock. “Lala.”
“Oh, my parents were furious, but I didn’t care. I knew he was it.” Sadness crept across her features. “When he was taken from me, I knew that was it—that I would never find anyone like him again. And I was okay with that because just a few hours with him had healed so many hurts and held enough happiness and love to get me through a lifetime.”
My mouth had been lifting into a smile, imagining something like Lala described. Imagining a stop-you-in-your-tracks kind of moment. A night that could change your entire world. But when she continued, my smile fell.
“It would do you a lotta good to let someone heal the scars on your heart,” she repeated her earlier words softly. “When you’re ready, of course.”
I offered her a nod, then looked back to the floor as haunting whispers slipped past my defenses.
“Let go!” I’d screamed when I was caught around the waist and hauled back. Thrashing and connecting with another man only to be dropped unexpectedly on my back.
The air had rushed from my lungs and stars burst through my vision for a moment.
I’d blinked them away, already fighting and screaming when hands had clawed at my shirt as the weight of another man rested on my hips, and looked up to see Chris Dennison on top of me, pulling off his shirt. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to fuck you? Since about the minute you stepped into my off—” His grunt and shocked yells had sounded when my fist connected with his jaw.
I’d scrambled away when he’d rolled to the side and was immediately pulled back against another body.
“Where you think you’re going?”
“Fuck you,” I’d cried out. “I’m not a stripper or a prostitute or whatever yo
u think you ordered.”
“Oh, it didn’t take long to realize that,” he’d said, lips at my ear even as I’d tried to get away from him. “But things change, and you’re one hell of a nice surprise.”
“I’ll kill you—you fucking asshole,” I’d screamed when his hand had crept lower and lower.
His dark laugh had vibrated against my skin as his other arm banded around my waist, locking my arms close to my body and keeping me tight against him. “Darlin’, you can’t touch me. You can’t touch any of us.”
I’d cried out in frustration and disgust when he’d slipped his hand into my pants despite how hard I tried to break from his hold, a sickening chill running down my spine when he’d said, “But we can touch you.”
I finally succeeded in forcing away the memories and tightly locking the doors on my mind. My voice was hollow when I asked Lala, “What if I’m never ready?”
* * *
My eyelids popped open at the sound.
Heart hammering and chest pitching with shallow breaths as I was wrenched from sleep.
In seconds, I’d scrambled to sitting and shifted to my knees on the bed, trembling hands out in front of me as I waited. Listened.
Old memories flooding my mind and threatening to swallow me whole as my stare searched the darkened room.
When my phone vibrated on the bedside table, I jumped, a gasp catching in my throat.
“Jesus,” I said on a wheezing breath as I reached over, grabbing up my cell and settling back on the bed when I saw there were two messages, both from within the last minute.
Both from an unknown number with an area code that wasn’t from Colby or New York.
I glanced at the time, noting that it was barely half-past four in the morning, and hesitantly slid my finger across the screen. Unease swirling in my stomach as I held my breath and waited the short moment for the messages to open.
Unknown: I’d like to see you. From what I’ve gathered, the only way I can do that while I’m on shift is by waking you up before the sun rises.
Unknown: You want to watch the sun rise with me, Emma Wade?
My heart took off. This crazy, uncontrolled beat that was as intoxicating as it was frightening.
Glancing around the room as if Reed might’ve gotten through the locked door without waking me, I scooted back against the headboard and tapped out a reply, fingers trembling as a hesitant smile tugged at my mouth.
Me: Stalker.
Me: How did you get my number?
Unknown: Grabbed it from Lala’s phone when she heavily hinted it was in there and then left it next to me.
Me: Of course she did.
I tapped on the screen, saving his contact as my heart and stomach betrayed me. Just hours before, I’d been trying to fortify every wall that Reed Ryan had managed to find ways past. Sure it was for the best. That we were only headed down a path that led to destruction and pain. But as another message from him came through, I found myself anxious to see what he’d said.
Reed Ryan: So how about that sunrise?
Me: When?
Reed Ryan: I’m outside.
I sat up, one foot already on the floor and heart threatening to break free as my mind screamed for me to stop.
To stay. Tell him to leave and remind him that we couldn’t do . . . whatever it was we were doing.
Because this was a terrible idea. Not just that I was slipping out of my room and down the hall to freshen up in the bathroom. But all of it. Letting Reed into my life—or any man.
It was all so bad and so dangerous, and it had a feeling of dread crawling through my veins as I crept down the stairs. Had those wraiths trailing icy fingers down my spine and pushing memories to the surface as I gripped the handle of the door, my head falling to the wood as I let out shaky breaths.
Go upstairs, go upstairs, go upstairs.
You have nothing to offer him. End this.
Taking a step back, I released the handle, something in my chest aching as I resigned to turn around and ignore Reed’s offer completely.
Another step back, I started turning for the stairs but reached out instead. Grabbing the handle and opening the door before I could talk myself out of it again.
And then I was stepping outside, my breaths embarrassingly uneven when I found Reed standing at the bottom of the porch steps, arms folded over his chest and staring up at me as if he knew the battle I’d just endured. Looking like sin and bad memories and still somehow making butterflies erupt in my belly.
“How many times did you talk yourself out of coming down?” Reed asked, voice soft and rough in the pre-dawn morning.
“Once.”
His lips lifted in a slow, knowing smirk. Gesturing to the side of the porch with a subtle jerk of his chin, he said, “If it’s okay with you, I’m gonna walk up there and sit on the swing.”
I inclined my head in both challenge and acceptance. “What would you do if I said no?”
“There are the steps,” he said as he climbed them, his stare dipping over me and voice dropping even lower when he added, “Back of my truck.”
Heat flashed across my skin and stole my next breath, my stare falling to the dark wood at my bare feet before bouncing everywhere else. Anywhere other than Reed and his distracting presence and implications.
Once he was seated on the porch swing, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees, I let out a shuddering breath and headed that way but elected to lean up against the house instead of sitting next to him.
If it bothered him, he didn’t show it. His eyes just tracked my movements with a heated interest that had me worrying over the state of my heart when any kind of interest from a man should’ve had my stomach twisting and souring. Should’ve had every hair on the back of my neck rising.
“The doorknob work out all right?” he asked as soon as I was settled against the house.
My lips parted but only a soft breath blew past them. “You got me one with a lock . . .”
His brows drew together in worry. “Uh, yeah. I couldn’t find anything that looked like what had been there. But I can look online.”
“No,” I said quickly, trying to ease his worry. “No, it’s fine. I . . .” My head shook and I looked out over the darkened lawn. “I like locks.” I cleared my throat of the remnants of the confession and asked, “How much was it?”
“I got it.”
My eyes shot back to him and my spine straightened. Voice hardening as I repeated, “How much was it?”
“Emma, it wasn’t—”
“No, see, it broke off in my hand, which means it was my problem. So, I need you to tell me what it cost.”
He straightened, arms out in a helpless action. “It’s a doorknob. It was nothing.”
“I refuse to be in debt to anyone for anything,” I bit out. “It doesn’t matter how big or how small those debts are.”
Reed studied me for long seconds as if he was trying to understand . . . or maybe he did. Maybe it was that he was piecing me together in ways he shouldn’t. Taking what I’d just given him and putting it with what I’d shared the other night.
When he spoke, his tone was soft and gentle, but no less firm. “That was from a door in Lala’s house—do you have any idea how much your grandma feeds me?” He shrugged. “No matter what I do for her, I’ll never repay her.” He held my stare, voice dipping with some unknown emotion when he said, “There’s no debt.”
He didn’t understand. Nearly my entire life had been the way it was because of my mother’s debts, and I had lived every day trying to pay them while ensuring I never had any of my own.
It was one of the reasons why coming to Lala for help had been so difficult. It was why I knew exactly what day I’d arrived so I could pay for every living cost. It was one of the reasons I was so determined to make Donna’s store everything she’d ever wanted, why I was determined to make it thrive, because it was the only way I could truly repay her for giving me a chance.
But those wer
e things none of them understood, so I simply murmured, “Thank you.” My gaze darted over his fitted gray shirt and dark athletic shorts before drifting to my feet again. “How long are you working?”
“What?”
“You said you can only see me before the sun rises when you’re working. Just trying to figure out how often I’m going to be waking up to early-morning texts.” When I risked a glance at him, he was fighting a smile.
“Just had my first on. I work four on, four off.” He leaned back in the swing, resting his long legs out in front of him and folding his arms over his chest. “If you didn’t hide from me all day, I wouldn’t have to wake you up.”
“I don’t hide from you.”
He lifted a brow at the blatant lie, expression all disbelief and amusement. “Where were you when I came by yesterday?”
“Out.” When he looked content to wait for me to expand on that, I let out a slow exhale and vaguely answered, “Working.”
“You ready to share that with me yet?” Understanding washed over him when my lips pressed firmly together. “Can I ask why you don’t want to?”
Because I don’t owe you anything.
The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I choked them back. Indecision warring within me for long moments before I finally said, “Because this feels very delicate for so many reasons.”
I needed a job. Chris had found me and contacted Donna within days of her hiring me, and I had a horrible feeling that had a lot to do with Jarrod Davis and the size of this town. But I doubted any other employer would’ve responded the way Donna had—would’ve trusted me blindly with work-related accusations and with their business. Most importantly, Donna needed this.
This was her life, her family, and her home.
“I’m afraid of it being taken away, and I’m afraid of failing,” I admitted, voice soft as a whisper. “Not that I think telling you would have an impact on that, I just . . . I feel more protective of this than I think I’ve ever felt of anything.”
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