by Meg Collett
“You think she has a problem?”
She shrugged, reluctant to begrudge anyone their ways of coping because hers wasn’t the healthiest either. “Maybe.”
“Have you said anything about it to her?” Hale turned at a red light and once again headed out of town. He was focused on driving, but she knew he was listening and waiting for her answer.
“Not really… I never feel like it’s my place to talk to her about it. Shouldn’t her family do that?”
“That girl’s family is shit.” The venom was readily clear in his voice, and it surprised her. “Everyone knows they’re the reason Stevie is so messed up. No, they would probably encourage her drinking because it would be good for ratings or publicity or what-the-fuck-ever.”
“I guess—”
“No,” Hale said, cutting her off. “Don’t make excuses. You’re the only one she has, and you two hang out a lot. If you think she has a problem, it’s your responsibility to help her.”
Kyra nodded, feeling like she’d just gotten in trouble. Stevie did drink a lot, and if Kyra was honest with herself, she knew it was something that should be addressed. It just made her feel like a total hypocrite. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow. She’s already drunk, so it might not go over well today.”
“Can it wait until tomorrow?”
She glanced over at him, and he met her eyes briefly before looking back to the road. She hadn’t even paid attention to where they were going, but once again they were surrounded by trees in the middle of nowhere. “I think so,” she said, biting at her nail. “But what if we eat and then we can go find her?”
He pulled off the road and onto a narrow gravel road that cut through the woods. “I think that sounds like a great plan.”
Below the canopy of leaves was all darkness and shadows. Hale didn’t turn on his headlights; he had the road memorized. When they pulled out of the trees and drove across the grass toward a small airstream trailer, Kyra wasn’t surprised. Everything from the grill outside to the workout bench in the corner of the yard screamed Hale. The awning was out and some lawn chairs were placed beneath it. There were two chairs, and she figured only Cade had been out here. And probably Hale’s dates. Surely, he’d been with other woman here. She shook her head to clear her thoughts; she was torturing herself for no reason.
“Do you expect me to open your door or something?”
She realized Hale was standing on his side of the truck with his door still open. He stared in at her while he held the grocery bags. She shot him a dirty look. “I’m going.”
“Move your ass. I’m hungry.”
She grumbled to herself as she walked to the trailer. He banged open the door and disappeared inside. Instantly, old country tunes rolled out from inside to twang in her ears. The music didn’t bother her. After spending the day with Hale, she realized the crooning songs suited him more than the angry rock he often played when he was working.
She ducked under the door and stepped inside. He stood at the small counter, laying out their supplies for tacos. His broad form took up most of the room, and he had to bend his head to accommodate the low ceilings in the trailer. Craning her neck to see around him, Kyra spotted the bedroom with the bed neatly made. Above a narrow, lumpy couch hung some odd drawings full of lines and shading. To her right was a narrow dinette. She hadn’t moved and already she felt claustrophobic.
She opened her mouth to comment on the coziness when she realized what the drawings were. “Oh, gosh,” she said, completely shocked. “These are amazing, Hale.”
She went forward and leaned over the couch to examine the drawings. The pencil marks were light and delicate, each line perfectly straight and precise. Kyra counted nearly ten drawings hanging above the couch, and each one of them was of her house. Hale had rendered the designs freehand, drawing up his own blueprints since the originals were long gone.
She didn’t need to be an expert to see that he was amazing at his job. Even from the drawings, she saw his intentions for the house through the detail in his work. One drawing was of the front of her house, but she barely recognized it. He’d painstakingly drawn in perfect accents for the house custom of a Victorian style. Even the door and windows were done in a manner that suggested Hale had done his research on the era. Another drawing was of her garden with each plant labeled. Other drawings were of furniture he clearly planned to make for her house, one being of a giant buffet for her dining room that Kyra already knew would fit the space perfectly.
Gaping, she looked over her shoulder to see him watching her. He shrugged without a comment. “You’re really good at this,” she said again.
“I like it fine,” Hale said. He turned back to the counter and dumped the vegetables into the miniscule sink for cleaning. With one last look at the drawings, Kyra joined him at the counter.
“Is that what you’re going to do to my house?” She turned on the water and held an onion under the stream.
“It’s what was original to the house, even if I have to remake it. Everything has its place and it belongs there.”
Hale pulled out a cutting board and a long knife. Kyra handed him the onion, which he immediately started peeling and cutting.
“I think it’s great how you try to keep to the original plan for the house.”
“It deserves it,” he said with a grunt. He sniffed at the aroma coming off the onion.
“When did you start drawing?” she asked, washing more vegetables.
“Before I could write my name.”
She elbowed his side, which wasn’t hard to do in the small space. “They’re really good. Stop being so modest.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you. I think they’re good too.”
Kyra laughed at his answer, which won her a crooked grin. They turned up the music and kept making the tacos. She found herself humming and swaying along to the songs as they worked. They didn’t talk, which suited her fine. It was nice just being so close to Hale and doing something she was comfortable with.
When the rice was done, they wrapped up their veggie tacos with hot sauce and settled on the dinette to eat. In between bites, she asked, “Does Cade like the business as much as you?”
Hale frowned down at his taco while he munched. “He likes the number crunching and money side of it. And he’s better with the people. So I guess he likes it fine. We just do completely different things.”
“When I first got here, I thought it was so weird that Cade had to talk with clients instead of you. I thought you must be a monster or something.”
“And then you met me.” Hale smirked.
“And realized that’s exactly what you are.” Kyra laughed. “Are you so honest that you can’t even pretend to be nice sometimes?”
He leaned back in his chair. “I can be nice, but I’ve found that most people don’t deserve it. I like to keep to myself because I can’t stand when people insist on being polite even though they are going to talk about you behind your back.” He cocked a brow meaningfully at her, which made her roll her eyes.
“I was raised to be polite no matter what, even if you didn’t like that person.”
“That’s fine on the kindergarten playground, but I think it’s bullshit that adults can’t honestly tell each other how they feel about the other. Why hide it? Wouldn’t it have made you feel so much better those first couple of days just to tell me I was an asshole?”
“I did tell you that.”
“Days later when I nearly ran you over. Why wait so long? I clearly pissed you off before then. Yet you smiled and acted all nicey-nicey.”
“Nicey-nicey?” Kyra scoffed. “Some people just don’t like confrontation.”
“Some people are just pussies.”
Kyra choked on her taco. “Did you just call me a pussy?”
“Yeah.” Hale nodded. “You were. Jury’s still out on now.”
“Crap, Hale. That’s really rude.” She sat down her food and glared across the table.
“Oh, please. You
know it too.”
“I don’t get how you can be so nice all day, and then be so mean hours later,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
He held up his hands in surrender, but she saw the gleam in his eyes. “You asked. I just answered.”
“I didn’t ask to be called a name. That’s such an awful word.”
“But so descriptive.”
“Are you just wanting to be punched in the face or something? Cause if you keep this up, I’ll be happy to oblige,” Kyra snarled.
“See?” Hale exclaimed, surprising her so much that she jumped in her seat. “Now that’s honest. Why can’t you just say that from the very beginning and get it over with?”
She groaned and shook her head. “You’re impossible. When we first met, I was trying to understand you. I didn’t want to judge you because Cade had asked me not to.”
“He really asked you to be nice to me?” The taco paused on its way to Hale’s mouth. He seemed genuinely bewildered that his brother would stand up for him.
“He asked me to cut you some slack, which I did. Not that you noticed. You were awful to me.”
“I was mean because you were acting so fake all the time. It pissed me off.”
Kyra tossed her taco on the plate and threw her hands in the air. “I was being fake because you gave me no reason to actually, sincerely be nice to you!”
“Well, would you call me out now when I’m being a jerk?”
“Oh, yeah.” Kyra nodded enthusiastically as she picked her taco up and took a bite.
“Then that’s what I call progress.” Hale grinned at her.
Kyra laughed then, her anger fading away. He made her laugh a few more times as they finished their meal. They quickly did the dishes before she tried to call Stevie again.
“Still no answer?”
She shook her head at his question. “I think her phone must be dead or something.”
“Okay. Let’s go find her.” Hale wiped his wet hands on his jeans before heading to the door.
With a sigh, she followed. She wasn’t looking forward to this conversation with Stevie. It felt wrong coming from her; she had unhealthy ways of coping too. Methods that she hadn’t entirely fixed since she still hadn’t contacted a therapist here on Canaan Island. Talking to Stevie about her drinking likely made Kyra the biggest hypocrite in the world, but she didn’t want to see her friend struggle. She hoped Hale would stay with her and help her, but she had her doubts about that. Besides, it probably needed to be just between her and Stevie. Hale was right: Kyra was the only one who cared in Stevie’s life.
“Hit that light, will ya?” He turned around to point at the light switch over her shoulder, but she was following so closely that he bumped into her. He reached out and caught her as she stumbled back.
His hands didn’t move away when she righted herself. Kyra twisted around to turn off the light like he asked. The trailer went dark, save for the streams of moonlight coming through the tiny windows. The music was off now, and she heard only the cicadas outside.
His hands skimmed across her back, pulling her closer and winding up her shirt. The rough, cracked pads of his fingers scraped across her skin and sent chills down her arms. Without even realizing it, Kyra bowed her body into his, twining her hands up his neck and into his hair.
He kissed her then, pressing her back against the counter. She couldn’t help the quivering, dipping sensation in her stomach as he worked his lips over hers. His tongue threaded into her mouth and took control. When he pressed against her hips, she felt how hard he was through his jeans. The warmth from her stomach bottomed out and pooled between her legs, soaking her panties.
She was panting when he eased back, leaving her lips parted and swollen from his kiss. “You didn’t tell me you were a virgin,” he said, his voice low and rasping. Kyra trembled.
“No,” she whispered.
Hale unbuttoned her shorts and tugged them off her hips so that they pooled at her ankles. Without pause, he stroked his fingers between her legs, feeling her wetness through her panties. He pushed the material aside and slipped two fingers inside her. With his thumb, he traced lazy circles around her clit while he pulsed in and out of her.
“Had anyone used his fingers on you before me?” Hale hissed the question into her ear.
Kyra couldn’t speak. She rocked against his fingers, feeling the fullness inside her but aching for more. He was getting her close, but he slowed and waited for her answer. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice cracking.
Hale frowned, not liking her answer. He growled and sped his fingers back up until Kyra came. She arched into him, letting her head fall back as the orgasm rocked through her. Her muscles clenched around his fingers, her body vibrating with electricity.
“Has anyone made you feel like that before?”
Kyra looked back at Hale, his expression wild in the darkness as he watched her. “No. Never that.”
Hale slipped his fingers out of her, and Kyra heard how wet she was. He ran his hands underneath her shirt, leaving a moist trail on her stomach, and cupped her breasts, working his thumbs over her nipples until she felt another ripple through her core.
“What do you want to do, Kyra?”
This was a test, she knew. He wanted her to be honest and to be present. He wanted the truth in this moment. She swiveled her hips against his erection, thinking about what she wanted. Hale seemed to know she was gauging herself so he stayed quiet and still. She pulled her hand away from his neck, where she’d been clinging for dear life, and rubbed her palm down the front part of his jeans. He hissed out a breath when she took him in her hand, measuring his heft. What did she want?
Her eyes flicked up to his. A tiny smirk pulled at her lips. “I want to suck your dick.”
Hale’s mouth parted slightly, and Kyra knew she’d taken him by surprise. His nostrils flared and he nodded. She began to sink to the floor just as her phone rang.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he growled as she stood back up. He turned away and rocked his shaking hands through his short hair. Seeing how undone he was made her smile secretly behind his back. She picked up her phone.
“Hello?” Her voice surprised her. Even she could tell it was thick with lust.
But all that fell away as she listened to the person on the other end. Hale seemed to notice too. He turned back around and looked at her, his expression changing.
“Who is it?” he mouthed. Kyra listened for a moment longer before she responded.
“The hospital.”
eighteen
Kyra saw the video cameras before she saw Stevie. Two burly guys with pit stains held the massive, expensive equipment in their oversized hands in the hospital’s hallway. She hurried past them, shooting glares they didn’t notice, on her way to the nurses’ station with Hale hot on her heels.
“Um…excuse me.” She cleared her throat. Hospitals made her queasy, as if the sickness was something that could force itself down her throat; her hand was locked over her left wrist, wringing her bracelets for all she was worth. A nurse looked up at Kyra’s shaky voice. “I need to see Stevie Andrews. Do you know how she’s doing? I, um, don’t know who to talk to.”
“Her family is in there with her now. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.” The nurse looked back down at the computer while phones rang around her.
Kyra almost burst into tears. “But can you tell me how she’s doing at least?”
The nurse looked up with a bored, dismissive expression. “No. I can’t.”
“But—”
“Is Dr. Faraday here?” Hale stepped from around Kyra. He towered over the nurses’ station. Something about the way his muscles tightly corded beneath his shirt or the way he loomed over the partition or even the spark in his eye set the nurse in motion. She blinked.
“Yes.”
“Can you page him?”
“I can’t just—”
“Page him.”
“Yes, sir.” The nurse
turned away and picked up a phone to page the doctor.
“Who’s Dr. Faraday?” Kyra asked quietly, so only Hale would hear.
“Mom’s doctor. Bit of a hippie, but a good guy,” he said. Now that he wasn’t talking to the nurse, Kyra noticed the paleness of his face and the way his shoulders slumped slightly. Without thinking, she took his hand and squeezed.
They had to wait only a moment before a tall, lanky guy in a white coat that nearly swallowed him came down the hall. His hair was too long and flopped into his eyes, but he smiled when he saw them. Before he was even close enough, he stuck out his hand to shake Hale’s.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?”
“Good,” Hale said, shaking the doctor’s hand. “Ethan, this is Kyra. Kyra, this is Ethan.”
“Good to meet ya, Kyra.” Ethan Faraday nodded at her before he shoved his hair out of his face. “What’s up?”
“Kyra’s friend was brought in earlier. Car accident.”
Ethan ran his hand over his face. “Oh, yeah. She’s pretty banged up, but she’s stable. The ER doc took care of her. Couple broken ribs from the seat belt and a few wicked lacerations.”
Kyra grimaced, forcing the pool of hot saliva back down her throat. “Can I please see her?”
Ethan thought for a moment before he nodded. “Sure. Let me get her parents out of there and check on her. Come by in five.”
“Thanks, Ethan.” Hale shook the doctor’s hand again before he walked away. Kyra watched him disappear into a room she could only assume was Stevie’s. The tears were stirring again when she looked back at Hale.
“I should’ve gone to find her earlier,” she said, her voice cracking. “I should’ve talked to her sooner about this, but I kept convincing myself that it wasn’t my place.”
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug; it wasn’t the condolence she was expecting. “But that’s not how it happened. We just have to deal with what did.”
She would’ve preferred a hug, but he was right. She couldn’t change what had happened no matter how much she wanted to. Just then, a well-dressed man and woman left Stevie’s room. The woman was shockingly skinny with dry, brittle hair and too-full lips. Her makeup was flawless and her clothes expensive. The man had flashy tattoos and wild hair that was obviously painstakingly styled. As they walked out, the cameramen snapped to attention and hustled behind the couple, filming them as they walked away from their daughter’s room.
