Crossing the Line

Battered Hearts - 3

by

Kele Moon

Part One

The Storm

Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.

—Mike Tyson

Chapter One

July 2012

“I’m happy you’re finally home.”

“Sure.” Tabitha squeezed her mother’s hand, not recognizing the stranger who stared back at her. Thirteen years had turned her mother into an old woman, and it was jarring to see, but she tried not to let it show as she forced a smile. “I’ve been meaning to come back and visit for a while now.”

“Your brother misses you.”

Tabitha visibly cringed.

She might be able to pretend it was no big deal to come home, when the reality was it required her to face over a decade of raging fear to do it, but she couldn’t hide the loathing she felt for her older brother, even for her chronically ill mother.

“I wish you two would make up.” Her voice was pleading, her gaze needy. “Once I’m gone—”

“Come on, Mom.” Tabitha smoothed the bedsheets with her free hand rather than meet her gaze. “Let’s change the subject.”

“I know you’re making a lot of money, and you’ve been sending me checks all this time like it ain’t nothing,” her mother went on as if she hadn’t heard her. “I want you to keep sending the money after I die. Send it to Brett. You won’t miss it, and he needs it.”

Tabitha made a choked sound of shock. Her mother expected her to send Brett three thousand dollars a month. Hell would freeze over first. Deathbed or not, there was no way that promise would leave Tabitha’s lips, let alone come into actual fruition.

“You’re not dying, and besides, Brett’s a big boy.” Tabitha used every ounce of strength she had to hide the anger. “If he wants three thousand dollars a month, he probably ought to get off his ass and make it.”

“Things are harder for him. He ain’t smart like you.”

“I think you need to rest.” Tabitha smoothed out her mother’s sheet once more. “Tomorrow we’ll go see that new specialist I lined up for you in Mercy. He’s supposed to be amazing.”

“Shoot.” Her mother snorted. “There ain’t no point in driving all the way out to Mercy. You and me both know I’m dying, fancy doctor or not.”

“You gotta stay hopeful,” Tabitha argued. “All the books say a positive attitude is the key to recovery. There’s a surgery for this sort of heart condition.”

“Once the heart’s gone, it’s all over. Might as well save your money.”

Tabitha sighed, knowing this conversation was pointless. Her mother was not one to look on the bright side.

Rather than harp on a sick woman, Tabitha looked around the bedroom, taking in the peeling wallpaper and cracked plaster on the walls and ceiling. The house had been old and crumpling before she left; now it was a literal hazard.

Her gaze rested on a pot in the corner, currently being used to catch the water dripping from the leak in the ceiling. The entire house was decorated with cookware to combat the nasty bout of summer storms hitting her small hometown of Garnet. The steady drip, drip, drip echoing through the decaying house was like nails on a chalkboard.

“Are you gonna be okay if I leave?” Tabitha finally asked in a tiny voice, because being back in the house was making her feel young and vulnerable in a way she hadn’t in a long time. “It was a long drive from Key West, and I have to make some phone calls. I’m gonna see if I can line up a home health aid to come stay here with you and—”

“Go do your thing,” her mother said dismissively. “I ain’t an invalid yet, and Brett’s here.”

Tabitha reached over to the portable phone charging on the nightstand and placed it next to her mother’s hand. “Call me if you need anything. I’m just five minutes away. Terry rented me that big cabin on the lake.”

“Terry.” Her mother huffed indignantly. “There’s something wrong with a man who ain’t never had a wife in thirty-some years of living. I don’t think he’s dated since y’all stopped going together. He owns half of Garnet; boy should’ve been able to find himself a wife.”

Tabitha stood up, sadly accustomed to her mother’s abrasive attitude. “Well, Terry’s my friend, and he was nice enough to rent me one of his properties on short notice. So we’ll just have to butt out of his personal life and be grateful for the charity. Brett doesn’t have a wife either.”

“If you pay for it, it ain’t charity,” her mother snapped, obviously deciding to ignore the rest.

“Very good point,” Tabitha agreed passively as she leaned down to brush her mother’s graying hair away from her forehead and press a tender kiss there. “I’ll be here at noon to pick you up for your appointment. Call me if you need anything before then.”

Her mother patted her hand affectionately, which seemed like a small gesture, but from a woman as callous as her mother, it was a huge improvement. Maybe thirteen years changed more than the physical, and for just a moment Tabitha felt guilty for being gone so long. Then she looked around the house once more and felt that shiver of fear that had nausea bubbling up in the back of her throat since she arrived tired and shaky after a long road trip. All things considered, Tabitha thought she was doing pretty darn good.

“Call me,” she reminded her mother, knowing it was almost a sure bet she wouldn’t, because accepting help was never her nature. Maybe if her mother’s pride hadn’t been such a huge obstacle, Tabitha’s childhood wouldn’t have sucked quite so intensely. She turned to leave on that thought, suddenly needing to get out of the house before she lost what little lunch she’d managed to choke down past her nerves. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

Tabitha tripped over one of the pots in the hallway, splashing water on the creaking wood floor. She swatted at her hair when she felt moisture on her scalp. She shuddered and scrubbed harder at her head, not knowing what sort of rat-infested attic nightmare that rainwater had traveled through to get to the leaks in the ceiling.

“What the hell happened to the money I gave Mama to fix the roof?” she snapped as she walked into the living room. “I gave her four thousand dollars to get it done. I wanna know what happened to it.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

Tabitha actually growled out loud as she stared at the back of Brett’s head, knowing he’d taken that money and probably most of everything Tabitha had sent their mother. Looking unremorseful, Brett sat on the couch that had once been a flowered print, but now was so threadbare it looked like a swirl of the worst colors from the seventies.

Brett was playing one of those violent video games, completely uncaring that Tabitha continued to stand there fuming at him. He didn’t even have the decency to look uncomfortable in her presence. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she came back home. Some sort of guilt, some semblance of humanity, some indication that he’d grown up and found a conscience, but it shouldn’t be shocking that he was the same heartless bastard. She, more than anyone, knew Brett only cared about himself.

Maybe she was surprised by his juvenile attitude, because like their mother, Brett had aged horribly since the last time she’d seen him. He might act the same, but he certainly didn’t look it. He was thinner than before, more wasted away by life and the abuse he put on his body. His skin was sallow and dry. Dark circles lingered under his eyes that were still the same coldhearted brown she remembered.

The fact that Brett looked so much older than his thirty-six years was a small consolation when Tabitha felt her stomach lurch. Unbidden the memories surfaced, causing a sickening hot rush of fear to wash over her.

She was going to puke, and her consciousness clawed for some way to keep her mind off the inevitable. Her mother needed her to be strong. That thought had carried her all the way from Key West to Garnet when every instinct she had demanded she turn the car around and head back to the safety of her tiny house on the island, her laptop, and the stories that let her hide the demons long enough to feel normal.

The money, the leaking roof, her mother slowly wasting away, it all faded to the background as the reality of standing in this house again really hit her. It was a physical incarnation of the nightmares that had plagued her the past thirteen years, and no amount of levelheadedness was going to help her move past the panic attack now.

Tabitha turned on her heel and dashed for the front door. Even if throwing up on that hideous couch would probably improve it, she couldn’t let Brett see the weakness. She’d rather die than let him know the scars still ran bone deep.

She kicked the front door closed behind her and rushed down the steps. She leaped past the bottom stair that was broken thirteen years ago and like the rest of the house had only gotten worse with time. The second her sandals hit the mud, she lost her footing and fell backward before she even had a chance to shout in surprise. There was no grass for treading in their open, barren yard, and she knew that. Why hadn’t she worn her sneakers? Who cared if they weren’t as comfortable for cross-country travel?

Her head hit the bottom stair; the wood crumpled on impact. Her leg must have hit the rake on the way down, and she could feel the sting of torn skin along the back of her calf. Worst of all, her shoulder connected with the edge of a cinderblock that was the last support for a dying porch.

Tabitha would have screamed if she could breathe. The fall stole every ounce of air she had. She lay there in the mud, the rain hitting her face as she fought a battle for oxygen and sanity. For that one moment, the pain was everywhere, tingeing her vision gray from the force of it. Her head throbbed, her leg stung, and her shoulder hurt so intensely it made her forget everything but the agony of it. When she did find the ability to breathe again, she was almost grateful for the physical pain because it gave her a brief reprieve from the emotional hurt that was a thousand times worse.

The only thing more horrifying than having Brett see her puke all over that hideous couch would be for him to find her flat on her back in the rain. She’d never been one of those graceful, athletic females Garnet produced so easily. Her hometown probably had more pretty cheerleaders, dance team members, soccer and softball players per capita than any town in the country. Her graduating high school class had eighty-one students but still managed a full athletic program that never ran into spacing issues. She was a sore thumb, a redheaded stepchild who wasn’t just born into the wrong family, but to the wrong goddamn town as well.

She rolled onto her hands and knees, uncaring of the mud because it was already everywhere, and struggled to get to her feet. The pain might have temporarily hidden the anxiety, but it was still there, rolling dangerously under the surface. She made it to her car and got in, trying not to think about the grime dripping off her clothes.

She peeled out of the long driveway, hoping to get to her newly rented cabin before she came undone. The roads were wet and slick. The winding drive through the hills was more treacherous than anticipated. She drove slowly despite the need to put distance between herself and the horrible memories. She was too stubborn to die in a fiery car crash. She surely wouldn’t give her kin the satisfaction. They’d all be killing each other for the fortune she’d earned doing the very thing they’d mocked through the length of a truly terrible childhood.

Little did they know—uncles, brother, even her mother—they all had the right to jack shit if she bit the bullet. It would almost be worth dying to see the looks on their faces when they found out. She might’ve considered it if she knew God would give her the satisfaction of a peek.

And with that morbid thought, Tabitha realized she wasn’t going to make it back to the cabin. She pulled off to the side of the road and opened the car door. She fell onto the embankment on her knees. Hidden in the wildflowers that grew everywhere this time of year in Garnet, she puked her guts up.

She retched so hard and for so long, she felt like she was ripping all the pain of her soul out through her stomach, and even then it wasn’t enough. The rain fell harder, soaking her hair as the thunder rolled. Lightning cracked in the distance, illuminating the gray sky. It’d be just her luck to get struck. She certainly didn’t see how things could get much worse than they were at that moment.

As soon as she formed the thought, it was shattered with the short, impatient sound of a police siren. The flash of red and blue colored the pretty lavender and white flowers around her. The groan of a big police vehicle pulling up behind her car made it obvious she wasn’t going to be left to wallow in her misery. Welcome back to Garnet, where nothing was private and everything was up for public entertainment.

This was truly unbelievable, and Tabitha found herself saying a prayer, out loud, just to make sure any celestial being in the near vicinity heard her, because the situation was that desperate.

“Please don’t let it be him,” she whispered frantically, her voice hoarse from all the throwing up. “Please, please, please. Anyone but him. If there is a God, you will not do this to me.”

She sat there on her knees, shaking in exhaustion and pain as the sound of a car door being opened and shut actually made her jump. She kept her back to the intruder on her private meltdown, because she just couldn’t bear to look. Life could not be this cruel. It just couldn’t, even to someone born with the last name McMillen.

Her stomach rolled once more, and she fought to hold back the urge to be sick again. The sound of boots squishing in mud and grass had her silently wishing for the earth to open up and just swallow her whole.

“Tab?”

Tabitha stiffened when she heard the low, stunned voice of Wyatt Conner, the man who was impossible to get over.

It was official—there was no God.

She squeezed her eyes shut and hung her head. She was sitting there, covered in mud, throwing up in the grass after driving nonstop from Key West to Garnet. If there was a worse way to see him again after thirteen years, she couldn’t think of what it could be.

“Are you okay?”

Tabitha answered his question by leaning over and retching again. Her stomach was empty. She hadn’t eaten all that much in the past twenty-four hours due to nerves. Now she was actually shaking, though if it was the exhaustion, the low blood sugar, or the trauma of coming back home again, she didn’t know. Wyatt fell down on his knees behind her as her stomach continued to rebel, and she didn’t have the strength to argue.

“I’m gonna call Tommy. He and Frank Duffy take turns running the ambulance up to Mercy General.” Wyatt stroked her hair, his other hand resting over the small of her back as if she’d never left.

“God, no,” she choked out, because that was the very last thing she needed, to get hauled to Mercy General in an ambulance driven by the former quarterback from her graduating class. “I’m fine. Just nerves.”

“I ain’t buying it. You’re hurt.”

“No.” She shook her head frantically and wiped her mouth as she struggled to pull herself together. “I’m fine, Wy.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“Just the dumb bottom step back at my old place. I slipped. It’s nothing. I’m okay. I just need a moment. You don’t have to—”

“I do have to,” Wyatt said firmly. “Is your stomach better?”

She nodded silently, still refusing to look at him. This just felt too hard. It made the loss of innocence a little too much to bear if she actually had to look eye to eye at what she’d lost.

“Stay here. I got some water back in the car.”

Wyatt didn’t really give her a choice in the matter, just jumped to his feet and turned to go back to his squad car. She wiped at her mouth once more and pushed at her hair, tucking the wet strands behind her ears. As ridiculous as it was, she was trying to pull herself together.

She looked down to her navy-blue tank top and khaki shorts, now both covered in mud. Then she brought her leg up, finally acknowledging the cut from the rake when she fell. It ran nearly the full length of her calf, which was just perfect. She couldn’t imagine what her shoulder looked like.

Wyatt made it back in record time and silently offered her the bottle of water. She took it without looking up and rinsed her mouth out. She spit the water into the grass a few times, knowing her dignity was already in tatters. Then she took several long gulps of water. She was still working on washing the taste of fear out of her mouth when Wyatt dropped a blanket over her shoulders—one of those trusty police-issue brown blankets that were thick and scratchy but served their purpose.

Then, without further ado, certainly without asking or even warning her, Wyatt bent down and picked her up. She gasped from the shock of it. The water bottle slipped out of her hand and dropped to the ground as she flung her arms around his neck out of instinct. She blinked past the rain and finally stared up at him simply because she had nowhere else to look.

Tabitha had the same crushing breathlessness she’d experienced in the yard after falling on her ass, because she’d forgotten how good-looking Wyatt was in person. She’d seen him plenty over the years on television. His best friend, Clay Powers, was a UFC heavyweight champion. Since Wyatt was his right-hand man and training partner, he’d always been featured heavily in those pay-per-view fights. Tabitha had watched every single one. She enjoyed watching Clay fight. They’d been friends a long time, and she was beyond thrilled to see him become so successful. No one deserved it more. But the reason she saved those fights for years afterward was to play back the parts with Wyatt in them—like a lovesick fool. No mixed-martial-arts fan had mourned Clay Powers’s retirement quite as much as Tabitha. It’d cut off her lifeline to a time and a dream that was long dead but impossible to let go of.

Now here Wyatt was, all six feet five inches of him. He was much bigger at thirty-four than he was at twenty-one, stronger, more powerful and intimidating. His blond hair was longer, curling at his nape. Despite the rain, it still held the unnatural impression from his hat, which he must’ve recently abandoned. Without thought, she reached up and ran her fingers through golden strands, a habit thirteen years dormant rising to the surface as if she’d never left. His hair was as silky as she remembered, flowing through her fingers easily as she flattened it out.

Wyatt stopped his trek and stared down at her for one stunned second. She looked into his eyes that were the lightest shade of blue, like sun hitting the ocean on a clear day. They were haunted, filled with pain that was stark and cutting when she realized she was the one who’d caused it. She wanted to touch the fine lines at the corners of those beautiful eyes, and the worry creases on his forehead just to smooth them out and give his innocence back. He was still stunningly handsome, far more so than she remembered, because Wyatt was one of those men who just got better-looking with time, but she could still tell life was taking its toll.

“You shouldn’t have stopped.” She sighed. “It wasn’t necessary. I was just having a moment, and I know I don’t deserve—”

“I’m your husband,” Wyatt interrupted, his low voice filled with pain. “Taking care of you was supposed to be my job.”

Chapter Two

There was a quiet moment between them because Wyatt said out loud what neither of them had forgotten. Despite the long separation, they were still married, and not a single paper had been filed by either of them to change that fact.

Quite the opposite—Tabitha had gone out of her way to make sure everything had Wyatt’s name firmly in place. If something happened to her, Wyatt would get every dime, and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone in her family could do about it.

There had been papers and letters from Wyatt’s side of things over the years too, all business related. It’d been obvious early on that Wyatt knew exactly where she was and what she was doing. When his father had died, she’d gotten letters from Wyatt’s attorney listing her as his sole beneficiary. He never made a secret of tracking her from Garnet, to New York, then Portland and finally to Key West. In every new city, she could count on getting mail from Wyatt’s mutual funds and a sea of other investments that listed her as his wife.

It’d been odd, a way for them to reach across the country and touch each other. For her part, leaving everything to Wyatt was a no-brainer. His reasons were more of a mystery, considering he had a sister he actually liked and a best friend who was more a brother to him than anything. Why would he leave everything to the woman who left him?

Tabitha found herself lost in thought as Wyatt resumed his trek back to his car, which was actually a big white SUV with the words Sheriff, Garnet County written across the side of it. It was a very nice vehicle, certainly much better than the old jeep Big Fred, Wyatt’s father, used to patrol in.

“I guess Garnet is moving up in the world,” she observed. “Nice car.”

“We’re doing all right.” Wyatt bent his knees as if Tabitha weighed nothing. “Open the door.”

Tabitha reached out and opened the passenger side door. She made an effort to look like she was crawling out of Wyatt’s arms and into the car herself in an attempt to preserve some dignity. She pulled the blanket tighter around her, finding it a nice shield from reality as Wyatt closed the door and turned to walk back to her car.

She saw him stop and pick up the water bottle she’d dropped, which was predictable enough to make her smile. Then he leaned into her car, retrieved her purse and keys. He looked to the backseat, obviously searching for luggage.

Tabitha’s heart was beating the hell out of her chest. If she hadn’t already done the puking thing, her stomach would be churning. She couldn’t believe she was sitting in Wyatt’s car. Her life was too surreal to deal with, and she looked around the vehicle that had the scary police glass separating the backseat from the front. It was tricked out with all the latest police tools, which was also different and sort of impressive when she considered the backwoods town she’d left behind.

Garnet really was moving up in the world. They had a new, fancy sheriff’s department and a new, handsome sheriff to match.

She glanced to the floorboard, and her heart dropped for a different reason. A hardback book peeked out from underneath the seat, and she reached down and picked it up, staring at the familiar cover.

The Vigilante, A Heroes of Sapphire County Novel by T.C. Rennoc

She opened the book that was heavily earmarked and well read to the point that the binding was weak. She flipped to the dedication page, and the first real tears of the day rolled down her cheeks because she was simply too overwhelmed to fight them. The dedication was deliberately cryptic. All of them were, and more than a few fans and reporters had attempted to decipher them.

Between pain and regret, the sweetness still lingers, and in that ray of light I cry out to you—Why.

The car door opened, and Tabitha looked up guiltily. Wyatt paused for a moment, staring at the book on her lap before he climbed into the car and handed over her purse. “I didn’t find any luggage.”

“I dropped it off already. Terry’s renting me that cabin of his on Winding Ridge.”

Wyatt stared at her, his gaze intense. “I heard.”

“Oh.”

Tabitha felt her cheeks heat as she absorbed that information, having the brief thought to kick Terry very hard in an uncomfortable place for meddling. Was it built into the genetic makeup of every Garnet resident to stick their nose in everyone else’s business?

“That one’s my favorite.”

Tabitha looked up at him curiously. “What?”

“That book.” Wyatt pointed to the book still in her lap, open to the dedication page that was as well-worn as every other page in the book. “It’s my favorite of the series.”

Tabitha set her purse next to her and then closed the book self-consciously. Her hands were less than clean, and she was worried she’d gotten it dirty, which was bizarre for her. Coveting something she had boxes and boxes of back home.

“I think it’s my favorite too,” she agreed, giving him a wan smile as she leaned down and tucked his book back where she’d found it. “It has, uh…a special place in my heart. I hope I didn’t get it dirty.”

Wyatt shrugged. “If you did, you could probably replace it.”

“I could,” she said quickly. “I will if you want me to. Replace it, I mean. Get you a better copy. An autographed copy.”

Tabitha winced at that last part, knowing it probably sounded uppity and presumptuous.

“I sort of like my old copy.” Wyatt pulled the car door closed and sat there with his hands on the steering wheel, staring ahead as rain splashed against the windshield. The silence was deafening, the tension pulsing off him nearly choking the air out of the car before he finally asked, “Why’d you come back?”

Tabitha wished she had a different answer for him, one he wanted to hear. Instead she just admitted, “My mom has a blockage in her heart. She needs surgery, and you know Brett’s not gonna take care of it. She’s got diabetes too, and a whole host of other medical problems that have to be handled.”

Wyatt flinched. The pain showed on his face for one brief moment before he turned his head to look out the side window and take a long, cooling breath. “I’m sorry ’bout your mom.”

Tabitha nodded and considered him. He was so big in person, so overwhelmingly broad and muscular. His wide shoulders were tight, the tension was still bleeding off him to the point that she wanted to reach out and comfort him somehow, but there was nothing to be done. She finally whispered, “I’m sorry too…for everything.”

Wyatt didn’t respond. He just sat there quietly for a few moments and then started the car as if there was nothing else to say. Tabitha hadn’t really expected him to say it was fine that she’d walked out on him less than a week after they’d gotten married, but the deafening silence wasn’t any easier to bear for being predictable.

Tabitha stared out the window as they drove. She tried to worry about her mother, her abandoned car, or even her fear and resentment over being forced back to Garnet. Even the hatred for Brett seemed better to focus on than the pulsing sorrow that was welling up inside her chest and making the rural scenery grow blurry in a way that had nothing to do with the rain.

When he turned down the long driveway that led to the lake house, Tabitha was ready to leap out of the car and run away from the heartache. Wyatt must have sensed her urge to flee and grabbed her wrist gently. He gave her a look that said he expected her to stay put.

Tabitha shook her head in denial, because being with him was ripping her apart on a soul-deep level. She’d rather be back home with Brett than alone in that lake house with Wyatt. “I’m fine. Really, Wy, you don’t have to fuss over me.”

Wyatt opened the car door and stepped out as if he hadn’t heard a word of her argument against it. “Just lemme get the first-aid kit out of the back.”

Tabitha huffed in defeat, knowing how stubborn Wyatt got when he had his mind set on something. She had a ring that proved that. Only now realizing it, she looked to her left hand, seeing the golden band, and felt a sinking horror. Not for Wyatt to see she still wore it, but for Brett or her mother to notice and start asking questions. Why hadn’t she thought of it before this moment?

She pulled at the band, trying to wiggle it off her finger, but the summer heat made it hard to get off. She managed to slip it a little up and saw the deep groove left from thirteen years of wearing a ring she never took off, along with a noticeable white tan line. Too much Florida sun. On or off, it made no difference. Anyone who bothered to look would know she was married.

Her car door opened, and Tabitha dropped her hand self-consciously, hoping to God Wyatt didn’t see her fight with her wedding ring. She grabbed her purse, clutched the blanket tighter, and jumped out of the car before Wyatt could do something like try to carry her again. If he wanted to follow, she couldn’t stop him. Even if he wasn’t sheriff, which made him something akin to God of Garnet, he was still bullheaded.

She fished in her purse for the small set of keys as she walked up to the lake house, that was surrounded by woods and hidden so far off the main road few knew it was still there. It was bigger than she needed, but the only other place Terry had to rent was next door to Clay Powers, and she sure didn’t need that.

“Wow, Terry really did fix this place up, didn’t he? It’s like Better Homes and Gardens in here,” Wyatt mused behind her. “I hadn’t really paid attention to it the last time I was in this place, but I surely can’t believe he turned that old, rotting cabin into this.”

“Well, that’s what he does.” Tabitha opened the front door. “Fixes places to work off a lifetime of too much energy. He should’ve stuck to those simple little one- and two-bedroom houses. They’re easier to rent. A place this big is harder to sell and even worse to rent, too darn expensive.”

“You seem to know a lot about what Terry’s been up to,” Wyatt said suspiciously. “Have ya been keeping up with him?”

Tabitha turned to Wyatt, who stood behind her, a backpack over his shoulder, a large white first-aid kit in his hands. An explanation was on the tip of her tongue. Terry was her friend, one of her only true friends from childhood except Clay Powers, whose loyalty certainly wasn’t in her court anymore, but the words were trapped in her throat. She couldn’t make excuses for staying in touch with Terry and spilling her secrets to an old friend while keeping her husband in the dark.

She could always tell him the truth, which was the best explanation of them all, but she wouldn’t risk that. Keeping that secret from Wyatt was the reason she’d left.

“I’m gonna go take a shower.”

Tabitha turned back around and promptly tripped over her luggage still in the foyer. Wyatt dropped the first-aid kit and caught her before she could face plant on the hard European tile. It took amazingly quick reflexes to save Tabitha from herself at this point in the game. She should be impressed, but all it did was humiliate her further. She looked down to the bandages scattered over the floor and felt her cheeks heat.

“Please lemme go.” She closed her eyes, feeling Wyatt’s big hands holding her upper arms through the blanket, and whispered, “I need to go drown myself now.”

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay alone in the shower?”

Tabitha turned to arch an eyebrow at him, misreading his intentions before she saw nothing but concern shining in his light eyes and softened her defensiveness. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not so sure ’bout that. You’re obviously still shaky. I think you ought to leave the bathroom door unlocked.”

She nodded, deciding it was a reasonable compromise given her track record over the past twenty minutes. “Fair deal.”

Wyatt let her go, and Tabitha wanted to run to the sanctuary of the master bathroom, but she didn’t. She walked—cautiously.

It’d make sense for Tabitha to toss out her clothes. It wasn’t like she couldn’t afford more, but old habits died hard, and she had a difficult time wasting things. She took them into the shower with her, using the hot water to wash the mud off before she hung them over the rack on the wall to toss in the washer later.

She took just as much time on her body, scrubbing until her skin was pink with the effort. Her shoulder burned something awful, and her leg felt worse, but she welcomed the pain to distract her from a wealth of other problems.

It wasn’t until she was out of the shower, wrapped in a towel that was included in the furnishing of the house, that she realized she didn’t bring clothes with her. She had her toiletries in the bathroom because she’d freshened up before heading to her mother’s place, but not a stitch of clothing to change into.

With nothing else to do, Tabitha just brushed her teeth with the same manic enthusiasm she used on her clothes and body. Then she combed her hair, wincing at her reflection and wondering for the first time what Wyatt thought of it so short.

She rinsed off her toothbrush, put it away, and then fingered her chin-length dripping red locks and pondered putting makeup on. As crazy as it was, she found herself wanting to impress him when usually her looks were very low on her priority list. Now there was that small part of her not broken and damaged by life that wanted to be beautiful for the man who still owned her heart.

Coming back to Garnet was a disaster just waiting to happen.

She walked out of the bathroom casually before she lost her nerve. Part of her hoped Wyatt had put her suitcases in the master bedroom while she took the long shower, and she would’ve thought life was finally smiling on her when she spied all her bags in the corner if Wyatt wasn’t sitting on the bed waiting for her.

She stopped in her tracks, losing all sense of nonchalance when she saw the way Wyatt looked at her. Hot and greedy, his gaze ran over her body covered in nothing but a white towel. It made all the fine hairs on her arms stand on end. Her stomach clenched, and for the first time in a very long time she experienced something she thought had died forever.

A wild rush of sexual desire washed over her, and it left Tabitha breathless in the face of it. She’d forgotten how good it felt. For that one crazy moment, it seemed like life had been on hold for all these years, frozen in a nightmare of painful memories and even more agonizing regrets. That one look from Wyatt kick-started her into breathing again.

She actually took a choking gasp of air as she stood there shaking, feeling things that left her terrified and invigorated at the same time. Wyatt had changed out of his sheriff’s uniform and looked much more like the man she’d left behind in a pair of well-worn jeans and a blue shirt that clung to his massive biceps and stretched across his powerful chest. The color made his eyes seem lighter, his face more tan and handsome, and its effect left her standing there gawking at him.

“I, um—” Wyatt cleared his throat, recovering much easier than Tabitha was able to. He held up the first-aid kit and a blue-foiled nutrition bar. “I got ya a protein bar out of the car. I thought I’d doctor your shoulder while you eat it.”

Tabitha just stood there trying to find her voice. He wanted to play doctor with her. Is he serious?

Their past loomed between them like a malevolent dark cloud, tearing open all the painful wounds that had never healed for either of them. It was obvious Wyatt hurt just as badly as she did, which made everything a thousand times more agonizing. She’d never wanted this for him. She loved him far too much to bear the thought of the pain her life inflicted bleeding into his, but she supposed it’d been inevitable.

She’d warned him, but there’d been a time when Wyatt thought he could be her hero. That he could somehow save her from the difficult existence God saw fit to give her. All his chivalry had done was allow Wyatt to drown with her, and the guilt was almost too much to endure.

Tabitha shook her head. “Wyatt—”

“Sit down.” He gestured to the spot on the bed next to him. “We both got things to be mad at each other ’bout, but right now you’re hurting, and I don’t want you to get an infection. Have you had a tetanus shot recently?”

“Yes.” Tabitha swallowed hard and looked down at her leg that had stopped bleeding. Too stunned and shell-shocked to think of an argument, she just walked over to the bed and sat next to Wyatt. “I hurt my leg too.”

“I see.” Wyatt winced and handed her a protein bar. “It’s chocolate. It ain’t half-bad. Good fuel if you’re feeling peaked, which I figured you probably were. Got a good dose of vitamins in ’em too.”

Tabitha took it, having forgotten until just now that high-protein products like shakes and bars were a way of life for Wyatt who lived and breathed for the next workout. It was so distinctly him, she almost didn’t want to open it. She had the crazy urge to hide it in the box she filled with the mementos of all the small, perfect moments in life that were rare and cherished because of it.

“Thank you.” She opened it and tried not to wince as she destroyed the memento. She took a bite. It tasted more like cardboard than chocolate, but she smiled anyway. “It’s good.”

Wyatt nodded, and then he slid off the bed with the first-aid kit, falling to his knees in front of her. Extremely aware of sitting in front of him in nothing but a towel, Tabitha squeezed her legs tighter together and then turned to present her injured calf. She tugged on the towel, making sure it covered everything.

Wyatt smirked as he opened the kit. “I’ve seen it, Tab.”

“Not for a while.” Her cheeks flamed as she looked away from him and took another bite of the protein bar as a distraction. She chewed and swallowed before she added, “A long while.”

“Trust me, it’s committed to memory.”

That didn’t help the heat in her face or the dull throb between her thighs that pulsed to the rapid rhythm of her heartbeat. The bizarre collision of the familiarity of Wyatt mixed with the unaccustomed pulse of lust left her feeling almost light-headed. She hadn’t expected being around him to be this easy after all these years, as if a part of her soul recognized the other half of itself and relaxed all her tightly honed defenses.

“This is gonna hurt.”

“Good.” Tabitha squeezed her eyes shut, hating the image of Wyatt on his knees in front of her. Guilt. Want. Loneliness. Loss. The emotions were too much, and she wanted something to wash them away, even if it hurt like hell. “Do your worst.”

If Wyatt thought her reaction was strange, she didn’t see it. Her eyes squeezed tighter from the sear of pain caused from whatever cold, horrible fluid he was pouring over her leg. “Holy shit!”

“That ain’t the kinda language you expect to hear out of a woman who’s famous for writing children’s books.”

The craziest thing happened while she sat there in a towel with her leg on fire as her husband that she hadn’t seen in the past thirteen years played doctor like she’d never left. Tabitha laughed. She had forgotten how easy it was to do around Wyatt.

She brushed the wet hair off her forehead as her giggle turned into a pained moan. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Wyatt’s big, calloused hand slipped around to the back of her calf, his thumb rubbing over it soothingly as he blotted the wound dry. “Your secret’s safe.”

“And they’re not children’s books. They’re more YA. Young adult.”

“I know what YA is. I was just distracting you. I’ve been following your career for the past ten years. I know what you write.”

The warmth started to turn to something else besides the fiery burn of embarrassment. It tore away the last remnants of the strong, almost impenetrable walls Tabitha had built up around herself to help her survive a lonely existence she had never wanted.

Without thinking about it, she reached out and stroked Wyatt’s hair away from his forehead. “I’ve followed your career too.” She wasn’t talking about his career as sheriff, though she heard things about that too. The Wyatt she’d left behind had been heavily involved in mixed-martial-arts fighting, and he’d gone nearly all the way in the sport he was so passionate about in his youth. “I was sorry you had to retire. I know you loved it.”

Wyatt shrugged. “It’s just fighting. Ain’t worth crying over, and I’m still participating in it. I’m in the cage, just not professionally.”

Tabitha took another bite of her bar. “Do you miss the circuit now that Clay’s retired?”

“We got some other fighters at the Cellar. Damn good ones. Chuito won a title last year and is set to grab himself another one soon. My brother-in-law by default’s looking pretty good too. He keeps fighting like he does, and he’ll get himself a UFC contract by next year.”

“Your brother-in-law by default?”

Wyatt snorted. “Tino is Jules’s brother-in-law, but seeing how I’m always tripping over him, it sorta feels like I inherited him too.”

“I saw on the news about Jules getting married to Romeo Wellings.” Tabitha tilted her head, watching as Wyatt worked at meticulously taping up the wound with tiny strips of clear medical tape that he was cutting from the roll with a pair of scissors from the kit. “That was something.”

“Yeah, well, it’s Jules. We ain’t all that surprised she had to go and do things over-the-top when she did decide to fall in love. She’s pregnant now, you know? It’s twins. As if that wasn’t predictable. She never does anything half-assed.”

“I didn’t know.” Tabitha raised her eyebrows, trying to imagine Wyatt’s very driven, very intimidating twin sister now married and having babies. “Are you happy about it?”

“Yeah, I suppose. I could’ve done without the mafia in-laws, the shootouts, and Jules’s life-threatening injuries. Not to mention all the media drama afterward, but Romeo and Tino got away from all that. She’s happy now, so I guess I am too. I’m excited to be an uncle.”

“I bet.” Tabitha laughed again, finding the image of Wyatt as an uncle a lot easier to accept than Jules as Betty Homemaker. “I heard Clay got a girl too. Y’all have been on the news a lot lately. I saw the footage of him and that Romeo Wellings fella taking down her ex-husband.”

“Don’t remind me.” Wyatt pulled a face of distaste. “Clay and Melody got that trial coming up here in August, and they surely aren’t looking forward to it. I personally think they ought to keep her ex-husband behind bulletproof glass ’cause Clay is likely to try for a second chance to kill him if he says something dumb, and you know he will. He doesn’t strike me as the smartest Cracker Jack in the box.”

“Seemed strange that Romeo was willing to help him right after their big fight, but I suppose if Jules was dating him—”

“She wasn’t dating him then.” Wyatt finished with the last of tape, pulling the cut closed tightly so it wouldn’t scar. “It’s complicated. It’d take all night to explain it, but let’s just say it’s been an exciting year in Garnet.”

She finished the bar and leaned over to set the wrapper on the nightstand. She sat back up and admired his handy work after he used the last little piece of tape on her leg. “You’re pretty good at this. Who needs a doctor?”

“I have taped up my fair share of cuts over the years.” Wyatt gave her a wide smile that made him so handsome it nearly stole Tabitha’s breath.

“I guess you have.” Tabitha knew Wyatt had spent his life fighting in and outside the cage and yet wasn’t really any worse for the wear for it. “And here I was worrying about a scar. Like I need another one.”

“Nah, you’ll be fine.” Wyatt caressed her leg once more, making her shiver against her will. “Let it heal. Put some vitamin E oil on it for a few months, and it’ll be good as new.”

Before Tabitha could respond, he stood and sat back down on the bed with the kit in hand, this time behind her. He ran his finger over her bare shoulder, gently touching the tender spot that hit the cinderblock. Underneath that frisson of desire from the gentle caress was the novelty of being touched by a man. It was something simple, something most women probably took for granted, but it was something Tabitha thought she’d never have again.

“It’s more bruising than anything. I’m going to just put some ointment on it and a bandage. No sense doing the peroxide thing again.”

Tabitha took a shuddering breath. “Much appreciated.”

She let Wyatt doctor her shoulder, savoring the feel of his touch that was tender despite his large size and dangerous fists. Her nerves had settled considerably, and for just that moment she focused all her energy on trying to remember everything about being with him again. Like the combined smell of Wyatt’s soap and expensive aftershave. The cool feel of the ointment on tender skin. The sound of the bandage being opened. The general hum of powerful energy that seemed to vibrate off men like Wyatt. Assured, successful, handsome, and charming, he’d always had such a strong sense of self. The path Wyatt was supposed to take in life had been crystal clear for him from a very young age. Knowing the right route to take had made him extremely self-confident, and that’d forever be appealing to Tabitha.

“All better,” Wyatt announced as he closed the first-aid kit. “Unless you’d like me to kiss it to speed up the healing process.”

She laughed. “I’m sure that’s the last thing you want to do.”

“I wouldn’t be that sure.”

Tabitha’s heart did a little flip when she heard the catch in his voice that sounded like the cross between a promise and a threat. She craned her neck curiously, looking at him in surprise. “Wy—”

“I’m gonna take off and let you rest.” Wyatt made a move to leave, but Tabitha grabbed his hand on instinct and squeezed like her life depended on it. Something about that desperation must have translated, because Wyatt closed his eyes as if looking for strength he didn’t have. “Tab, you should lemme go. I ain’t so sure I can be the fella you remember. I’ve been lonely for too long. That can make a man go feral after the first decade.”

Tabitha heard the warning that she was holding on to something akin to a caged tiger—one who was angry, lonely, and neglected by the very person who’d sworn in front of a justice of the peace to love him. The confession held terrible implications. It was something she’d never even considered, that Wyatt had been as sexually isolated as she was, with only the memories of something long lost to sustain her. She hadn’t wanted that for him, not once in all the years they’d been separated. The pain welled up between them as he stood there stoically. She squeezed his hand tighter, willing all the loss to disappear, if even for one day.

“I want you to kiss it better,” she whispered, not knowing how else to convey the need to fix what felt irrevocably broken. “Please.”

Wyatt shook his head. “I ain’t kidding. I haven’t been with—”

“Don’t—” She cut him off, not wanting to hear the confession. “You need it. I do too. It’s been such a long day. Let’s just forget the rest for a little while.”

She expected him to deny her. A part of her sort of hoped he would, because she wasn’t even certain she could do what she was suggesting, but at the same time, she needed it desperately. Just once. Some sort of confirmation that she was still human and could live and love and experience real passion like everyone else.

Even before things went bad, Wyatt had always been the only one for her. If she didn’t take this opportunity, she might never have another one, and that was easily the most depressing thought of the day, which was saying something.

Rather than turn and leave, Wyatt released her hand and sat behind her once more. Even without seeing it, she could actually sense the tension as he remained silent behind her, but so close she could feel the heat from his big body. Then he touched her shoulder, making her jump, because the reality of what she’d just gotten herself into hit her like a ton of bricks.

She jumped a second time when he leaned down to press his lips against the tender spot to the right of the bandage on the back of her shoulder instead. She was still trying to recover from the shock of pleasure it caused when he moved up to the curve of her neck, his warm breath fanning over her sensitive skin, leaving a wave of goose bumps in his wake.

Tabitha shuddered from the rush of emotion that was so overwhelming it left her choked up and struggling for breath. “I love you, Wy.”

It came out of her so easily as if the past had never happened, and she couldn’t take it back even if she wanted to, because it was one of the most heartfelt things that had ever left her mouth. She was shaking. The tears rolled down her cheeks without warning, and Wyatt didn’t question or doubt any of it.

He just wrapped one powerful arm around her waist and then pulled her close to whisper in her ear, “I love you too.”

Wyatt kissed her ear before she could say something to ruin the moment. It was obvious he needed this too, and Tabitha was so glad they’d both made it real. They hadn’t been able to be together, and the reasons they’d been torn apart were terrible and unfair. There were deep, life-changing secrets looming between them that were a little too transparent now that she was back in his arms, but they still loved each other, and neither of them were going to do this without acknowledging it.

This was probably a mistake, but it certainly didn’t feel like it as Wyatt’s lips moved down her neck. He let out a low groan and his arm around her waist tightened as if he were afraid she would suddenly disappear.

She grabbed his strong thigh through his jeans, squeezing tightly to let him know this was real. Her voice was gone, trapped in her chest somewhere beneath the nostalgia and crazy rush of desire that surged through her bloodstream. It was like a breath of fresh air, washing out over a decade of fear and solitude.

Starved and more turned on than she thought imaginable before this moment, Tabitha turned in his arms. His beautiful eyes were wide and stunned, as if the tidal wave of lust had slammed into him the same time it knocked every thought out of her head except the throbbing need for more of her husband.

Wyatt reached up and fisted her hair as if losing the tight hold on his urges. He tugged her forward and claimed her lips without asking. His kiss was harsh and demanding, but Tabitha parted to him rather than freeze, allowing him to own what belonged to him.

When he used his bulk to push her back against the bed, she let him. They never broke the connection. If anything, it got more intense as he arched his hips against her, letting her feel the hard outline of his cock through his jeans. She just clutched at his shirt and savored the feel of his tongue pushing into her mouth and brushing against hers over and over, finding that she still liked being under him.

They kissed like wild, frantic teenagers, as if they were back in Wyatt’s room and hiding from the world. Everything was exactly how she remembered it, and it left her feeling like the person she once was before life burned her. Her towel fell open, and she would have been too far gone to notice if the brush of Wyatt’s cotton shirt against her nipples hadn’t forced her to arch into him. She was suddenly hypersensitive and wound tight. Her fingers were in his hair, and she clenched them tightly as a tremor of pleasure seized her.

Wyatt grunted in response and broke the kiss to study her face as both their chests heaved from the unexpected cataclysm of desire that exploded between them. After several breathless seconds, he looked down at her completely bare beneath him, making it obvious he’d noticed the towel falling to the wayside, probably before she had.

She didn’t feel fear or shame when he groaned and became blatant about studying her naked body, but she did feel the hot flush of desire that burned her neck and cheeks at the flare of possessiveness that shone in his eyes. Wyatt’s breathing was harsh as he lowered his gaze and stopped to stare hungrily at her breasts. Then he leaned down and sucked on one taut pink nipple as if it was too much a temptation to resist. It was all happening really fast, but it didn’t matter. She tossed her head back against the pillow at the lightning bolt of bliss and unexpectedly found her voice.

“God, Wyatt!” she shouted, because she’d forgotten how good it felt to have his mouth on her.

She pushed her fingers into his short hair once more. She was panting. Her body was already tense with the need for release, and every tug on her sensitive nipple sent a white-hot rush of pleasure straight to her center.

Nothing existed but the need for more of everything. For one day, Tabitha was free from what felt like a lifetime of post-traumatic stress, and she seized it like a woman starved. What made it even more amazing was Wyatt met her every step of the way. His hunger was palpable. His need was overwhelming and humbling. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she felt more loved and feminine than she did as she watched Wyatt worship her small, pert breasts that were never anything to brag about.

Then he pulled up to tug at the neckline of his shirt, and Tabitha helped him get it off. She didn’t have a chance to admire his cut, muscular form before he fell over her, forcing the air out of her chest from the weight of his heavy body, but who needed to breathe? The warm press of his bare skin against hers had Tabitha clinging to him. She turned her head to the side as he kissed and licked at her neck once more.

“I need you,” he groaned into her ear. “I’m sorry. I can’t wait. It’s been too long, and—”

“I need it too.”

He lifted his head as a look of uncertainty crossed over his handsome face. “I wasn’t kidding before. I haven’t done this since—”

“It’s okay.” She winced, finding that the tears were threatening despite the yearning. Her voice was choked as she admitted, “I haven’t either.”

“I guess we’ll just have to relearn together.” He gave her a hesitant smile. “Won’t be the first time, right?”

The tears spilled over without warning as she remembered what was once beautiful and perfect. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, don’t,” Wyatt pleaded, the tears sounding in his voice too. “I don’t wanna cry right now. Let me love you instead. We’ll take a rain check on the rest.”

She nodded silently as she fought the urge to come apart. Wyatt reached up and rubbed a thumb over her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut against the emotion, but she still felt his gaze on her. When he kissed her again, she tasted the salty tang of tears, but she wasn’t certain if they were hers or his.

She ran her hands over the thick ridges of his back muscles, savoring the feel of his warm skin. The sound of Wyatt reaching between their bodies to undo the button to his jeans and then pull his zipper down sent little darts of anticipation through her, and she found herself reaching down to help him push his pants off.

When there had been so much separating them for so very long, she needed to be skin to skin with Wyatt, stark, honest, with nothing between them. Once they got his jeans and underwear past his hips, she hooked her feet under the waistband and helped him kick them off.

They were still kissing, with Wyatt’s tongue pushing into her open mouth over and over again. Bare skin against bare skin, she could feel the hot slide of his thick cock against her thigh. She remembered that he was big, that’d it been a challenge at first, but now it was likely an issue once again when it’d been so very long.

“I’m gonna get you off first, okay?” Wyatt whispered when his lips broke away from hers. He placed a kiss against the curve of her neck as if having the same thoughts she was. “It’ll be easier if you’re really wet and relaxed, because I’m not sure how slow I’m gonna be able to go once we get started.”

“I’m really wet now.” Tabitha panted, hating the idea of Wyatt having to rein himself him. “I think it’ll be fine.”

Wyatt’s hand slipped between their straining bodies, because they couldn’t seem to stop moving. It was as if they were instinctively trying to come together. Tabitha kept shifting under him, alternating between spreading her thighs wide and then wrapping her legs around him, letting her feet trail down his strong thighs.

His touch was soft as he rested all his weight on his other hand and pushed up a little to give himself the room to maneuver. He traced the line of her wet folds, making her squeeze her eyes shut.

“You weren’t kidding.” Wyatt’s voice was a low rasp of need. “You really are wet.”

“I want you,” she admitted as he slipped one finger inside her. She arched into the feeling of it. “God, Wy.”

“Christ.” His groan was almost pained. “We’re definitely gonna have to get you off first. You’re way too tight.”

Tabitha wasn’t sure why he was such an expert when he just admitted to having exactly as much experience as she did, but then she remembered Wyatt always did seem to have a knack for these things. He found the spot inside her that had stars bursting behind her closed eyes, and she gasped from the feeling.

“You want my fingers or mouth?”

She moaned and tossed her head to the side when she remembered what it felt like to have Wyatt’s mouth on her. Just the memories were enough when all she could feel was his warm skin and his knowing touch. All she could smell was the blend of her shampoo and his aftershave. All she could hear was the sound of their low, labored breathing as he relearned her body.

“I think I’m gonna come,” she admitted with an embarrassed moan. “I’ve had a really hard week, and I haven’t had time to touch myself. It’s all pent up, and being with you again is making me—”

“Tab, shh, you don’t have to explain yourself.” His touch moved up to her clit, soft and featherlight, as if he knew too much stimulation would overwhelm her. “Better?”

Tabitha clutched at the sheets and arched her hips into his touch as a low, keening sound of pleasure burst out of her. Words were gone, obliterated completely as Wyatt rubbed her clit like it’d been thirteen hours instead of thirteen years since they’d last done this.

“Just let go.” Wyatt’s touch grew faster, a little firmer, making the need wind tighter. His voice was husky with a hunger Tabitha thought she’d never hear again as he groaned and said, “God, I used to love to watch you get off from my fingers. Seeing you get all flushed and sweaty and desperate while I touch you, it’s still one of my favorite fantasies to jerk off to.”

Tabitha reached out to him blindly, needing to touch him as she strained for completion. She wrapped her arms around those wide shoulders and pulled Wyatt closer as she arched deeper into his touch and moaned from the fight for completion.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” Wyatt groaned against her ear. “Fuck, but I’ve missed you.”

Tabitha came with a shout, her entire body shaking from the force of it as she clung to Wyatt and rode out the wave after wave of pleasure that crashed over her. It was wild and shameless and one of the most amazing things she’d ever experienced in her life.

When the rush started to ebb, Tabitha ran her hands down Wyatt’s back, still holding him close. “What else do you think about?”

“Huh?” Wyatt’s voice was dazed.

“When you touch yourself? What else do you fantasize about?”

“Oh.” Wyatt swallowed hard, the quake of suppressed need making it come out in something close to a croak. “Everything, really. Seeing you. Touching you. Tasting you.”

“Fucking me?” Tabitha asked, sensing he was holding back.

“Yeah.” Wyatt shuddered in her arms and pressed his lips against her shoulder. “I think ’bout that a lot. Just completely drowning myself in you. Feeling you all around me. I miss it so much.”

It was Tabitha who guided him to her, because she thought about that too when the loneliness got to be too much. What it felt like to be so totally connected with Wyatt it was as if they were wrapped together into one, and she needed it desperately. Even if their souls were broken and fragmented, it felt like if they could just come together again, they’d fill in all those cracks and holes and be one whole, perfect soul instead of two damaged ones.

Wyatt really was a big man, and Tabitha was extrasensitive after such a powerful orgasm, but somehow they still fit. His cock stretched and filled her, and the pleasure was so white-hot all she could do was moan and push her hips up to take more of him.

His large hand held her hip as he took her slow, despite Tabitha shifting against his hold and begging for more. By the time he bottomed out, they were both panting and breathless. So full. It felt as if he had been made to be in her.

If he didn’t move, Tabitha felt like she’d die.

Fortunately the moment seemed to shatter the tight hold Wyatt had on his control, and that dangerous tiger he’d warned her about surged to the forefront. With a growl of defeat, he pulled out of Tabitha, only to take her hard the second time. She gasped from the reverberating surge of bliss it caused, and that seemed to be enough for him. He took her again before she’d even had a chance to catch her breath, and the pleasure was even more shocking the next time.

This wasn’t a gentle reunion; it was a claiming and rough in a way neither of them anticipated. Wyatt held down her hands and took her body over and over again with feral growls of pleasure. He dragged Tabitha along with him on the sea of ecstasy even if it felt a little like he was punishing her. It was harsh and filled with hurt, but they were together and that was so much better than being alone. She still felt safe and wrapped up in him until all she could feel were the strokes of his body moving in hers, every single one pushing her higher and higher until she was shaking with the need for a second release.

It became too much for Wyatt, and he stiffened over her with a furious gasp, making it obvious he hadn’t planned on it. Tabitha was afraid she’d have to finish another way, but then he leaned down and demanded in a harsh rasp against her ear, “Do it. Come for me, Tabby.”

And she did, just like that, Tabitha bowed to the pleasure. She came because he told her to, proving that his hold over her hadn’t lessened in time. If anything, it was more encompassing than ever.

They rode out the storm together, trembling in each other’s arms as Wyatt’s hips slammed into hers to the hard, erratic pulse of his orgasm and her body milked him in response. Then Wyatt was over her, crushing the air out of her chest and panting in her ear. She just savored the feel of being pressed into the mattress and holding him as tight as possible as he took several minutes to come down from the high.

When his breathing finally evened out, Wyatt said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Tabitha assured him. “It was perfect.”

“I don’t think it was perfect. It was quick and messy and not at all how I pictured it. I need more time.” Wyatt pushed up, making his massive biceps bunch as he looked down at her in concern. “Once’s not gonna cut it, Tab.”

Tabitha’s gaze darted to the ceiling uncertainly. Things were nice now, but she had so many issues Wyatt didn’t know about. “Wy—”

“I know you had plenty of good reasons to end us,” Wyatt started, his voice cracking with emotion. “Don’t think I don’t take at least half the blame, but you’re here now, and I think you owe it to what we were to give us more time.”

“I can’t live in Garnet,” she said in anguish. “I’m not staying.”

“And I’m not asking you to.” It was a harsh reminder that neither of them might be able to recover from what leaving had done to a love that was once beautiful and perfect. His light eyes narrowed as he studied her. “But I am telling you I need more than one afternoon with my wife who’s been MIA for the past thirteen years. I got a big house all to myself with a whole lot of empty rooms. Makes no sense for you to be renting this place from Terry. You can stay with me till you get everything settled with your mother.”

“We can’t just—”

“We sure as heck can.” Wyatt cut her off. “And I ain’t taking no for an answer.”

When Tabitha would’ve argued again, Wyatt kissed her. She’d like to think she was a strong, independent woman who wasn’t prone to being swayed by his cavemannish tactics to persuade her, but the truth was she wanted more time too.

They’d lost too much, too soon, and a little more time was too tempting to resist.

It was foolish and impractical and likely dangerous as hell for both of them, but then, Wyatt had always been the one to make Tabitha believe in the impossible.

Still connected like they were, she could feel him get harder as they kissed, reminding her of sweaty nights a long time ago when they could stay wrapped up in each other for hours. His lips became softer, less demanding as his hips started moving in her a second time, and everything became enveloped in the misty memories of the past when youth made them invincible and love made them courageous to the point of stupidity.

Every story had an innocent beginning, even theirs, and Tabitha found herself wishing she had a chance to go back and relive it one more time, because she didn’t want to let go any more than Wyatt did.

Part Two

The Beginning

You just don’t heal that easy unless you’re young.

—Sugar Ray Leonard

Chapter Three

September 1986

Wyatt Conner loved red hair. He liked the way it shone in the early-morning sun, like the brightest, newest kind of penny. He liked freckles too. He found himself wanting to spend a day trying to count all of them sprinkled over one pert, slightly upturned nose.

Wyatt pressed his face to the window, stretching the seat belt.

“Stop it.” Wyatt’s sister Jules punched his arm. “You’re making it pinch me.”

Wyatt stayed where he was. “Good.”

“Daddy!” Her voice was shrill enough to make Wyatt wince. “He’s making the belt pinch me.”

“Boy, sit up straight.” His father reached around Jules and lightly smacked the back of Wyatt’s head for good measure. Then he turned back to his police radio and pushed the button on the mic. “Sorry, the twins are fighting again. Go on.”

The police radio crackled with the voice of Deputy Henry Caraway, properly distracting their father. Wyatt sent a scowl at his sister, but she just gave him a smug smile before she worked on straightening her headband and then ran her fingers through her long blonde hair.

“I hate you,” Wyatt told her matter-of-factly.

Unfazed, Jules stuck her tongue out at him.

“Dang it, lemme call ya back once the school opens up.” His father hung the microphone back on the police radio mounted on the dash. Then he turned to glare at Jules. “Ladies aren’t supposed to be letting their tongues hang out like that. What would your mama think if she just happened to be looking down from heaven? On the first day of school, don’t think she ain’t watching.”

Jules glanced up at their father with big blue eyes that shone with false innocence. “I didn’t.”

“Juliet Emma Conner. I saw you with the eyes God gave me.”

“I had something on my teeth. I’m just trying to look good for the first day of school.”

Their father frowned, his dark eyebrows scrunching together in disbelief. “You’re saying you weren’t just starting something with your brother?”

Jules blinked, still maintaining a look of perfect righteousness. “I give ya my word, Daddy.”

Wyatt snorted in disbelief. If his father fell for that, he’d put himself up for adoption.

“Well, seeing how Conners know better than to lie.” Their father leaned down, looking at Jules critically. “Lemme see your teeth. Can’t be showing up a mess for your new teacher.”

Jules beamed, showing off a sparking smile that smelled like mint toothpaste.

Wyatt thought he might lose his breakfast.

“Pretty as a penny,” their father announced as he leaned down and kissed the top of Jules’s head. “You look just like your mama in that color blue.”

Jules preened and smoothed out her new dress that she’d been anticipating wearing for the past three weeks. “Thank you.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes and looked back out the window. He stared at the kids sitting on the benches outside the building waiting for the doors to open. Most of them were the bused kids who got free breakfast. Their clothes weren’t pressed and new like Wyatt and Jules were wearing.

Speaking of pretty pennies.

He studied Tabitha McMillen, who was sitting next to that big oaf Clay Powers. She had a book in her hands, and her head was bowed as she read intently. Her long hair hung shiny and loose past her shoulders. Unlike Jules, who always wore something in her hair, Tabitha never had any fancy headbands or bows. It was just that bright, glimmering red that actually sparkled in the sunshine.

“Daddy, he’s making the belt pinch me again.”

Wyatt huffed and turned to his father. “Can’t we just go and sit with the bused kids?”

“Naw, ain’t fitting to just dump you off on the first day of school. I was gonna walk ya to class.”

“We’re in third grade now,” Wyatt said it with authority, because third grade felt like an accomplishment. It seemed so much older than second, and he was as excited to be going back to school as Jules, though maybe not the same reasons. “We’re okay.”

“We are okay,” Jules agreed very diplomatically. “We know how to get to Miss Hatly’s class, and we got all our things.”

“I guess.” He shrugged, making it obvious he was anxious to get to work. “Your grandpa has been working a long night shift. I know he’s beat.”

Wyatt opened the door, desperate to get out of the police jeep and put some distance between him and Jules. If they sat him next to her for another school year, he’d lose his mind. Why’d everyone think he wanted to spend every waking moment with his sister?

Jules pinched him when he tried to jump out. “The belt, dummy.”

“Dang it.” Wyatt struggled to get the belt undone. When he did, it snapped back, hitting Jules in the hip. “Sorry.”

Jules huffed. “No, you ain’t.”

Wyatt jumped free of his father’s reach and announced, “You’re right, I ain’t.”

“Wyatt!”

He took off, pretending not to hear the reprimand. His father had to go straight to work, and after a long shift, he’d be so darn tired he’d forget he was mad by dinner. Wyatt was free for the rest of the day. Grandpa Charlie wasn’t nearly so inclined toward Jules’s charms, and he was the one who picked them up after school.

Wyatt was finally back in school, instead of stuck spending his spare time hanging around the sheriff’s office with only Jules for company—life was good.

He made a beeline toward the bused kids, taking a moment to run a hand through his hair. He approached the benches, throwing out his chest like his father did at the station. He wasn’t real sure why, but he was pretty sure it was supposed to make people respect you.

This was a new year. He was in third grade. It was time to be bold.

He grinned at Tabitha. “Hey.”

She didn’t seem to notice him, and Wyatt got the distinct impression it was Clay Powers’s cough under his breath that sounded distinctly like piglet that had her glancing up from her book. When she did, her brown eyes grew wide in shock.

“Yes?”

Wyatt was fighting down the urge to punch Clay, so his voice was tense as he tilted his head to the bench. “Y’all don’t mind if I sit there, do ya?”

“Oh.” Tabitha looked at the bench between her and Clay, where her worn-out backpack rested. “’Suppose not.”

Clay brushed away his bangs that were so long they covered his eyes, and then gave her a look of horror. “No way.”

Wyatt arched a challenging eyebrow at Clay. “It speaks. Next it’ll get a haircut. Your hair’s as long as my sister’s, Powers.”

“Fuck you, piglet,” Clay said in slow, concise words. “Seat’s taken.”

Wyatt took a threatening step toward him.

“Here,” Tabitha said quickly as she grabbed her bag and threw it on the ground and then scooted up next to Clay, making room at the end of the bench. “Room right there.”

It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. He sat next to Tabitha, flashing her a smile. “So what’d you do for summer?”

Tabitha looked over at him uncertainly. “Nothing.”

“That’s cool.” Wyatt nodded, doing his level best to pretend Clay Powers didn’t exist, and he wasn’t seeing Tabitha practically crawling on top of him to keep her distance. “Well, I got my purple belt last month. The folks at the rec center say they ain’t never seen a guy as young as me get it. I reckon I’ll have my black belt before sixth grade.” He glanced back at her, looking for recognition on something he considered a big accomplishment. Tabitha just stared at him blankly, making Wyatt feel like he was speaking Japanese. “In karate,” he clarified. “Like Bruce Lee. I’ll be as good as him.”

“Oh.” Tabitha gave him a half smile of encouragement. “Great.”

Wyatt grinned, thinking he was doing an excellent job of impressing her. He was just about to tell her about peewee football season starting up when a shadow was cast over his good morning.

“You forgot your bag.” Jules made a point to drop his bag, causing his lunch box to make a reverberating clash when it hit the ground. “And it ain’t like you’re the only one to move up. I got my purple belt this summer too.”

“Yeah, after I got it,” Wyatt reminded her. “I was first.”

Jules huffed, looking unimpressed. “By an hour. Big deal.”

“Jules!” A group of girls squealed from other end of the bench. They jumped up, waving for her because everyone seemed to want to be Jules’s friend. “Come sit with us.”

“Hey, y’all.” Jules waved back, smiling enthusiastically as she left Wyatt without a backward glance.

Wyatt scratched at the back of his neck as Jules walked off. “I’m pretty sure our sensei goes easy on her ’cause she’s a girl.”

Wyatt turned back when he didn’t get a response, finding that Tabitha was reading again and Clay was casting him long, angry glares, making it obvious he was very unwelcome. Wyatt grabbed his backpack to cover the silence. His lunch box had opened when Jules dropped it, and he made quiet work of putting everything back in. He liked lunch. It was his favorite part of the school day.

He glanced up when he sensed Tabitha looking at him. He followed her line of sight, seeing that she was eyeing the cookies in his hand. Thinking quick, he offered them to her. “You want ’em?”

“Really?” Tabitha’s eyes widened. She turned to Clay, and the two of them had a strange sort of silent exchange, because his eyes were wide too. Then she turned back to Wyatt. “Ain’t ya gonna miss ’em?”

Wyatt shrugged. “Naw.”

“But I ain’t got anything to trade, and—”

Wyatt frowned when Clay cut her off by kicking her foot. He was just about to say something when Tabitha snatched the small stack of cookies wrapped in cellophane out of his hand.

“Thank you.” She held them close to her chest, sort of reminding Wyatt of the way Jules used to hold her baby dolls when she was younger.

Weird.

“Wyatt!”

He turned to see Greg and Doug Hart walk up with identical smiles of excitement and matching new haircuts. The only way someone could tell them apart was Greg always wore blue, whereas Doug had to own at least thirty green shirts. Wyatt thought their mother did that on purpose, but he didn’t ask or make fun like the other kids. He was hypersensitive to twin things and felt sort of fortunate there was another set in their grade, even if they were always in the other class. Wyatt supposed one set of twins per classroom was enough.

“Hey.” He jumped up off the bench and stepped between the brothers, bumping his shoulders into both of them out of habit since they were on the same football team. “Did y’all start busing?”

“Naw, our mom’s working here this year.” Greg sounded miserable. “So we got to come in early now.”

“Teacher’s aid,” Doug added, looking equally unhappy.

Wyatt grimaced.

“She said she’d talk to your dad ’bout giving you rides to practice.” Greg shrugged. “She’s gonna talk to Tommy’s mom too.”

Wyatt gave them a wide smile. Mrs. Hart was one of the better carpoolers. She had this great idea that kids needed to eat before sports. She always brought them snacks or took them out for burgers before practice.

“Cool.”

“Now we don’t got to worry over your grandpa arresting us for making too much noise.”

Wyatt shoved Greg playfully, thrilled when he fell, but then Doug hit Wyatt from behind, making him lose his balance. Wyatt’s knee cracked hard against the cement, but he ignored the stab of pain and glanced back at Tabitha to see if she’d seen him fall. She was back to reading her book, but she still cradled the cookies, as if afraid to put them down.

“Y’all settle down over there,” Mrs. Govely called from her spot by the door as they waited for the door to open. “Don’t think I don’t see you three. Wyatt Conner, you know better! What would your granddad think?”

Wyatt and Greg got to their feet and headed back to the benches with Doug. There weren’t enough seats for the three of them, so Wyatt stood against the wall with the Hart twins. He made sure to retaliate and shove Doug the second Mrs. Govely turned her head, and he couldn’t care less that Tabitha missed him do it. He didn’t need the attention right then, not when he’d learned something very important this morning about the girl he’d been fascinated with since kindergarten.

Tabitha McMillen liked cookies…a lot.

Chapter Four

Tabitha waited for three hours after her first day of third grade, making sure her brother was gone before she slipped quietly into the kitchen. She opened the fridge, but her shoulders slumped when she found it nearly empty. Brett had eaten the last of the pizza from the weekend when their uncle Ned had gotten paid and was feeling charitable.

The pizza was a long shot, and Tabitha hadn’t had much hope Brett saved her a piece. She didn’t waste time being disappointed. She grabbed a carton of milk and opened it, sniffing it hesitantly. She jerked back from the scent and took it to the sink that was stacked with dishes. She found a small spot in the corner to dump it out, then put the carton on top of the garbage can that was full.

She went back on her search. There was a block of cheese. The edges were hard and cracked, but if she cut those pieces off, it should be good. There wasn’t anything green on it. That was it for the fridge, so she went to the cabinet next, searching for something and coming up with some boxed pasta mixes. One she needed meat for; the other she needed milk and butter.

She studied them intently, her young mind working to decide what she could use to make it better. She went back to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of ketchup; then she worked on quickly putting everything into her book bag.

She glanced at her mom as she walked to the front door. She was sitting on the couch, drinking something straight out of the bottle with one hand, and holding a cigarette in the other as she watched a late-afternoon game show.

“I’m leaving, Mama.”

“Don’t be out all night. Ain’t school starting next week?”

Tabitha paused with her hand on the doorknob. She opened her mouth, wondering if she should mention it had already started, but then she decided against it. When her mom’s words were that slurred, it was a sure bet she wasn’t going to remember anything Tabitha told her anyway.

She just slipped out the door with a final good-bye and then glanced down the driveway nervously. She was hoping Brett’s bike was gone, but instead he worked on it in the corner of the yard, trying to fix a rusted chain that had slipped off the track.

Brett lifted his head from his work on the bike and narrowed his eyes at her. “Whatcha hiding in the bag, runt?”

“Nothing,” Tabitha said a little too quickly. “I’m going to Clay’s.”

She was hoping that’d deter him. Clay might be two years younger than him, but he was a big eight-year-old. Even the sixth graders were sort of nervous around him, like they knew something about Clay Powers that Tabitha didn’t.

“Why do ya hang round that trash? Makes us look bad.”

Tabitha shrugged as she walked down the steps, willing herself invisible to her older brother as she did it.

“Not so fast.”

Tabitha heard the warning in his voice, and she took off running on instinct. She was halfway down the yard before he tackled her. It knocked all the air out of her lungs, and a wild panic seized her when she realized she couldn’t breathe. Tears sprang to her eyes, and a silent scream lodged in her chest while she fought for air.

Brett pulled her backpack off her shoulders and undid the zipper while Tabitha flailed under him. “What the fuck are ya gonna do with Hamburger Helper, runt? You know ya got to cook it, right?”

Tabitha answered him by letting out a scream she couldn’t keep in when she finally got enough air to make sound. Tears were streaming down her face. She felt like she was dying. Brett knocked her down all the time, but this scared her.

She couldn’t breathe.

“Stop it!” He shoved her face into the dirt. “You keep wailing like that, and that stupid Mrs. Harris at the trailer park will call the sheriff again.”

Tabitha struggled to keep her crying silent. She fell limp under him as little choked sobs burst out of her. She wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping it in.

“Fine.” He threw the bag on the ground. “Go eat your crunchy pasta. Brat.”

Tabitha could breathe a little easier once Brett got off, but even after he left, she lay on the ground trying to relearn the smooth, easy rhythm of breathing. It came back faster than she anticipated, and she stopped crying. She scrambled to her feet, grabbed her backpack, and didn’t even bother brushing off the dirt on her face and clothes.

She ran down the driveway without looking back. She could have cut through the back to get to the trailer park faster, but that would mean she’d have to walk past Brett. No way was that happening, so she walked along the road, watching for cars and working on cleaning herself up.

Both her knees were bleeding, and when she wiped at her forehead to get the dirt off her face, she found it sticky with blood too. The tears made everything so much worse. She needed a shower, but she didn’t want to go back for one. Maybe she’d just sleep at Clay’s and go home in the morning to get ready before the bus came.

Tabitha hefted her bag up on her shoulder once she got to the trailer park. Everything in her was tense and waiting to be attacked. What if Brett followed her? What if Vaughn was hanging around? As bad as her brother was, his best friend was twenty times worse.

The coast was clear, and Tabitha breathed a huge sigh of relief as she bounced up the steps to Clay’s trailer and knocked on the metal door. She was so happy to have avoided Vaughn or any more trouble, she temporarily forgot her injuries, but Clay noticed the second he opened the door.

“What the heck happened to you?” His dark eyes were wide in concern. “Brett?”

“Yup,” Tabitha confirmed as she walked past Clay. “Hi, Mrs. Powers.”

“Ya know she can’t hear you.”

Tabitha let her gaze dart to the couch, where Clay’s mother was sprawled out and sleeping. She tried not to look at all the needles and pill bottles on the table. She could hear the bitterness in Clay’s voice, and she turned around to see his glare of contempt at his mother.

“I hate food stamp days,” he grumbled. “First thing she does is sell ’em and buy all this shit.”

“Yeah.” Tabitha sighed, because her mother did it too, started selling the food stamps to someone at a discount and used the money to buy the booze she really liked. Even if they bought different stuff, the end result was same. “I hate ’em too, but at least we got cookies.”

Clay turned to her, and a small bit of hope shone in his eyes as a smile tugged at his lips. “True.”

“Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure.”

Clay followed her in there, and he didn’t offer anything over the state of her clothes. He just handed her a towel while she worked at trying to get all the dirt and blood off. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her beaten up because of Brett.

“Maybe you ought to have the piglet kick his ass for you?”

Tabitha was working on dabbing one of her sore knees and looked up at Clay expectantly. “Huh?”

“Brett,” Clay clarified as he gave her another gap-toothed grin. “Have the piglet beat him up since he’s such an awesome ninja.”

Tabitha giggled and went back to dabbing her knees. “Wyatt Conner ain’t that bad. I think it hurts his feelings when you call him piglet.”

“That’s what he is,” Clay said as if that made it perfectly acceptable. “A little pig that’s gonna grow up into a big, mean one just as bad as his granddaddy.”

“Sheriff Conner ain’t mean,” Tabitha argued. “Just nosy.”

Clay rolled his eyes, clearly unconvinced. Then he studied one of her knees that didn’t want to stop bleeding. “Next time I’ll walk with you.”

“S’okay.” Tabitha looked up and smiled. “Can’t be there all the time, and here is so much better to make stuff. No Brett to steal our food.”

“I’d have beaten him up for ya.”

“He’s in fifth grade now,” Tabitha reminded him. “Him and Vaughn would kick your butt for even thinking of trying it.”

“I ain’t scared of Vaughn,” Clay said with a dark, malicious glare. “Or Brett.”

“Yeah, you’re dumb like that.”

Clay laughed at the insult. “So what’d ya bring?”

Tabitha abandoned her work on her knees and turned to her book bag. She pulled out the box of Hamburger Helper and looked at the back again. “I think I can cook it. Just need water.”

“Ain’t ya supposed to use meat with it?”

“I was thinking we could mix ketchup with the sauce powder stuff and put that on top. Sort of like pretend meat.”

“That ain’t nothing like meat.”

Tabitha looked up hesitantly. “I got cheese, but it’s sort of rotten-looking.”

Clay considered her quietly for one long moment and then took the box out of her hands. “You still got the cookies?”

Tabitha grinned. “Yeah, he didn’t find ’em. I had ’em in a side pocket.”

“Then let’s make ketchup pasta,” Clay agreed, “and have cookies for dessert.”

Chapter Five

“I need lots of cookies.” Wyatt jumped on the counter, then kicked his feet back against the cabinet as he watched his grandpa pack his and Jules’s lunches for the next day. “Like twice as much as yesterday.”

Grandpa Charlie sent him a sideways look as he worked on putting peanut butter on bread. “Boy, what aren’t ya telling me?”

“Nothing.” Wyatt shrugged. “I like cookies.”

“Someone stealing your cookies? I know it ain’t always easy being a Conner. I’m an old sheriff, but I remember. You getting picked on?”

Wyatt gave him a look. “I got a purple belt, Grandpa.”

“He gave his cookies to Tabitha McMillen,” Jules announced as she sat at the table in her nightgown, reading something, probably for extra credit even though school just started because she was annoying like that. “Sara told Marcy at recess that she saw him hand over the whole stack.”

Wyatt really wished he were one of those guys like Clay Powers who had no problem cussing and flipping people off, because he’d surely like to say something colorful to his sister.

“Ah.” Grandpa Charlie sent him another sly look. This time a smile tugged at his lips. “You sweet on that little McMillen girl?”

“No,” Wyatt said quickly. “She just looked really happy to get the dang cookies.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Grandpa hummed in disbelief.

“I ain’t lying.” Wyatt threw his hand down defensively. “You’d think a couple of crumbly cookies were the greatest thing in the world with the way she was holding on to ’em. It was like Jules with a new doll.”

“I don’t play with dolls anymore.”

“She’s the liar.” Wyatt pointed at his sister accusingly, because they both knew she still played with them. “She told dad she was trying to get gunk off her teeth when he caught her sticking her tongue out at me, and he believed it.”

Grandpa Charlie laughed, which annoyed Wyatt. Jules got away with everything, but if he slouched, it was a smack on the head and a reminder that Conners don’t do things like that. It was like the world expected him to be perfect.

He hopped off the counter and was two steps from storming out of the room, when Grandpa Charlie’s big hand wrapped around Wyatt’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“I didn’t call ya a liar.”

“Yeah, you did. You don’t believe me about the cookies. You’re always saying I’m supposed to look out for people smaller than me, and when I do, you—”

“I’ll pack the cookies. Two sets, one for you and one for your girlfriend.”

Wyatt growled, and Grandpa Charlie laughed again.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

In a lightning-fast move, Wyatt twisted his arm, forcing his wrist against his grandpa’s thumb, using a common self-defense technique to break his hold. He dashed out of the kitchen. He was almost to the stairs when he got caught a second time. This time his grandpa wrapped both arms around his waist and hauled Wyatt off his feet while he fought tooth and nail.

But his grandpa was still laughing, which made Wyatt laugh. He let his guard down enough that he ended up tossed over his grandpa’s shoulder while he wheezed from laughing so hard.

“Boy, you keep taking life so serious, you’re gonna end up as grouchy as your daddy.”

Not to be left out of the game, Jules came barreling in from kitchen. “Don’t pick on my daddy!”

Even upside down Wyatt could see Jules’s hair flying behind her as she launched herself at their grandfather. She wrapped both her arms around his legs and threw her shoulder into an impressive tackle.

Grandpa Charlie went down like a ton of bricks, but Wyatt knew he was faking it, because neither Wyatt nor Jules ended up hurt. He pushed Wyatt off him and grabbed for Jules, who let out a squeal and tried to escape.

“You don’t like me picking on your daddy, huh?” He wrapped an arm around her middle, hauling Jules to her feet. “What’re you gonna do ’bout it?”

Jules curled herself into a ball, making herself at least twice as heavy, but she was nothing under Grandpa Charlie’s strength. He tossed her over his shoulder the same as he’d done with Wyatt, while she kicked and made those same high-pitched screeches of hilarity that could only come from a girl.

“Did you really tell your daddy you were trying to get gunk off your teeth?”

“Yes,” Jules confessed in a peal of giggles. “But it was the truth.”

“Girl, you might as well be a lawyer instead of a cop, ’cause I ain’t heard someone spin a tale like you can. What bullshit. You got your daddy totally hosed.”

“Dad, come on. Don’t be teaching ’em to swear.”

“Ah, hell, Freddy, a little swearing don’t hurt no one. You got to lighten up.”

“He’s a grouch,” Wyatt added bravely, looking boldly at his father when he stepped off the bottom step freshly showered and dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt. “Everyone knows it.”

His father narrowed his eyes. “Who you calling a grouch, boy?”

Wyatt tried to mimic his icy stare, but he cracked and started laughing. “I’m calling you one.”

He saw his father move, and he turned to run, but he wasn’t fast enough. His father actually dived for Wyatt, like the former linebacker he was. When his father caught his ankle, Wyatt hit the floor with a thump, but he was laughing so hard he didn’t feel it.

Then Wyatt found himself completely upside down, being held by his ankles while all the blood rushed to his head and his flannel nightshirt completely covered his eyes.

“What was that you were saying?” his father asked, now laughing as hard as the rest of them.

“Freddy, that boy just ate. He’s gonna end up puking on your shoes.”

Wyatt’s shoulders shook with mirth, but he managed to choke out, “T-that ain’t a l-lie.”

“Do it!” Jules said encouragingly from somewhere.

“Pass, ’cause y’all know I’m the one who is gonna be cleaning it. Grandpa doesn’t do puke.”

His father put him back on the ground, and Wyatt lay on his back, laughing for a long time. Then he rolled back and sprang to his feet in a move he thought was extremely impressive if he did say so himself.

“Boy, you are the biggest show-off I ever did see,” his father confirmed. “I surely don’t know where you got all that ego from, ’cause it ain’t from me, and your mama was humble as can be.”

“That’d be me,” Grandpa Charlie said proudly. “I was all cock and balls when I was a kid and a lot longer after that if we’re being honest.”

“Christ, Dad. Sometimes I just give up.” Their father patted Wyatt on the shoulder. “Time for bed. You got school tomorrow.”

“Ah, man.”

“Come on.” His father leaned down, letting Wyatt hop on his back. Which he did without hesitation. He stood with Wyatt on his back and walked toward the stairs. “We got to let Grandpa get ready for work anyway.”

“I ain’t finished with their lunches,” Grandpa Charlie said, and Wyatt turned to see him carrying Jules on his back up the stairs behind them.

“I got it.” His father stopped on the top step and waited for Grandpa and Jules to make it up behind them. Then he leaned in and kissed Jules’s cheek. “Night, princess.”

Jules beamed. “Night, Daddy.”

“I heard you defending me. You know how to take down the bad guys. That’s my girl.” Wyatt could see their father’s smile even from behind; that’s how big it was. “I love you, baby.”

“Night, Grandpa,” Wyatt said as he rolled his eyes behind his father’s back at the two of them, knowing he’d get the joke. Jules really did have their dad hosed. “See you after school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you go have sweet dreams ’bout that McMillen girl.”

“Tabitha,” Jules offered helpfully.

His father craned his neck, a frown marring his forehead. “What’s this?”

“Nothing.” Wyatt gave his grandpa a look of pleading.

“Don’t sound like nothing.”

“I got a town to sheriff,” Grandpa Charlie complained, properly distracting him. “Now are you gonna help me put these twins in bed or what?”

“I guess.”

Wyatt did the usual “brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed” routine. He had his own bathroom, thank God, so it didn’t take him long to get it all done and hop into bed. His dad was still in his room, picking up his discarded football uniform and then tucking it under his arm to be washed.

“You got karate after football tomorrow. Where’s your gi?”

“Hanging up.” Wyatt yawned and stretched out under the covers. “I washed it myself.”

His father paused in picking up and turned to look at him in concern. “You did?”

“Jules helped me.”

“She did?” This didn’t seem to offer any comfort.

“We wanted to make sure our new belts were clean.”

He turned to go to the closet and groaned out loud. “Ah, heck, Wy. You dyed it purple. Is Jules’s purple too?”

Wyatt shrugged, not sure what the right answer was. Jules’s gi might have been a little purplish, but he wasn’t going to be the one to break the news now that he found out it was an issue.

“What the hell. Ain’t worth crying over.” His father pulled it out of the closet and tucked it under his arm with the football uniform. “I guess that’s what bleach is for.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to swear,” Wyatt mused, hoping to take the heat off himself. “You’re always saying—”

“With Grandpa Charlie around, I reckon I already lost that battle.” He grinned and leaned down to kiss Wyatt on the head. “Have nice dreams.”

Wyatt yawned again. “You too.”

“Love you.” He ruffled Wyatt’s hair.

Wyatt rolled over in bed and tucked his hand under the pillow. “Love you too.”

Chapter Six

Late November 1986

Tabitha didn’t care what Clay said; Wyatt Conner was a nice kid.

He gave them cookies every single school day clear into the start of winter. Well, he gave Tabitha cookies, and she shared them with Clay, but it didn’t make much of a difference. The fact was even on the nights when they couldn’t find anything to hold them over until breakfast at school the next morning, they still had cookies, and she’d been diligent at hiding them from Brett.

“We won our last game.”

Tabitha turned and gave Wyatt an encouraging smile. “Congratulations.”

“You could come to one next week if you wanted. It’s a home game. Just over at Garnet Park. They have a guy who sells hotdogs and sodas. It’s pretty fun. Jules goes, and lots of other girls go too. We even have cheerleaders.”

“I don’t have a ride.” Tabitha gave him an apologetic smile. “And my bike’s broke.”

“Oh.” Wyatt looked crestfallen for about two seconds before he turned to her and said, “My grandpa could pick ya up.”

Clay snorted, but Tabitha did a better job at hiding how ridiculous that suggestion was. “I don’t think my mama would like that.”

“We don’t ride with cops, piglet,” Clay clarified in case Wyatt missed the point.

Wyatt frowned and for once didn’t have a response.

“I’m sorry,” Tabitha whispered softly, hoping Clay didn’t hear her as she admitted, “I wish I could go. Sounds like fun.”

“It is fun.” Wyatt perked up a little. “Tommy’s a good quarterback, but ya know a quarterback’s only as good as the defense backing him up. That’s what the coach says, and I’m a darn good linebacker, just like my dad.”

“I don’t know what a linebacker does,” Tabitha admitted with a wince.

“Oh yeah, lemme tell you. See, a linebacker—”

Clay cut him off with a long groan. “Even cookies ain’t gonna be worth this. He’ll never stop yammering.”

“I like his yammering,” Tabitha said defensively before she turned back to Wyatt. “Are the linebackers the ones who throw the ball?”

“No, that’s the quarterback. Linebackers are the fellas that protect the quarterbacks. That’s what I am—a protector. No one touches Tommy if I’m on the field.”

Tabitha smiled. “Like a hero.”

“Or a cop.” Wyatt shrugged and returned her smile, his cheeks suspiciously pink, but it was cold out. “But a hero too—I guess.”

“That’s neat.” Tabitha hugged herself tighter. The wind was blowing, and her sweater wasn’t keeping out the cold like it did a month ago. She found Wyatt’s talking a nice distraction. “You can tell me more if ya want to.”

Wyatt frowned. “Where’s your coat?”

Tabitha winced. Her coat was so old it was ripped in a lot of places. It was way too small, and she hated wearing it. “It’s old. The other girls’ll make fun of me for it.”

“Then ya tell ’em to fuck off,” Clay offered helpfully. “If it keeps ya warm, who gives a shit?”

Tabitha did, but she tried not to admit it out loud. Sometimes those thoughts just slipped out. Her mama would go insane if she found out Tabitha admitted to Wyatt Conner that her jacket was too old.

“Jules ain’t making fun of you, is she?”

Tabitha lifted her head to see Wyatt’s look of concern. “No, your sister’s fine. Ain’t nothing wrong with her.”

“How come you don’t talk to her? All the other girls do.”

Wyatt’s sister Jules was too pretty. Too good at sports. Too perfect in every single way. She made Tabitha feel very uncomfortable, but she had never been mean to her.

“I could have my dad buy you a new coat,” Wyatt offered before Tabitha had to answer. “He buys them for Jules all the time.”

“Please don’t tell your dad what I said.” Tabitha’s heart dropped. The surge of fear made her forget about being cold. “Not your granddaddy neither. If they think I ain’t got a coat, they’ll send the state out.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Tabitha knew Wyatt had no idea why that would be a terrible thing for her family, and just begged, “Promise me.”

“Okay,” Wyatt said, sounding a little unsure about the commitment. “I promise.”

Tabitha wasn’t sure why she did it, but she leaned forward and kissed Wyatt’s cheek quickly. “Thank you.”

She looked around, hoping no one saw. The doors had opened, and everyone was heading in. Tabitha let out a sigh of relief, knowing no one had seen but Clay, who had a disgusted look on his face. He pulled her over to him, his hand tight around her arm.

“Have you lost your dang mind?” he murmured into her ear. “You just kissed the piglet.”

“He gives us cookies,” Tabitha said in a defensive whisper.

“I don’t like you, Powers,” Wyatt suddenly growled, reminding them both he was still there. “You ain’t the boss of her.”

Clay responded by flipping Wyatt off and then standing up to walk to the doors. Tabitha sat next to Wyatt quietly for a few seconds, feeling embarrassed and awkward. Then she hopped up and followed after Clay.

* * *

The thing about Clay Powers was, he had a reason to be mean. Tabitha understood it even if none of the other kids did. He didn’t have uncles who would buy pizza sometimes like Tabitha did. Her mom had a lot of sober moments. If it lasted long enough, she’d clean the house when she started to get paranoid about the state coming over. Sometimes she bought food and stocked the pantry.

Clay didn’t have that. His mother never got paranoid about the state. She just didn’t care anymore. One night, when Sheriff Conner showed up at the trailer park, Clay flushed all her drugs down the toilet and woke her up and managed to make things look almost normal before the sheriff knocked on their door.

His mama didn’t go to jail, but when the guy who was staying with them found out Clay flushed all their drugs away, he beat Clay so bad he had to miss a full week of school. So all things considered, Tabitha thought Clay was pretty darn nice. He wasn’t cruel like Brett or his friend Vaughn, who’d beat her every day for the cookies Wyatt had been giving her if they found out about it. Mean was the wrong word for Clay; he was just shy in a growly sort of way.

Clay’s last report card said he had socialization issues.

He asked Tabitha what that meant, since she was the only one who read the darn thing for him. She wasn’t real sure, but she thought it meant Clay had a hard time making friends.

To which Clay had mused, “I guess you don’t count.”

And Tabitha had laughed. “Probably not.”

It was really too bad Clay hated Wyatt so much, because Tabitha was starting to think she had socialization issues too, and she found herself considering the idea of trying to be Wyatt’s friend. She sort of liked the way he talked all the time and filled in the empty space left by her shyness.

Plus, he did neat things like karate.

He was like a safer Jules Conner, who was easily the most popular girl in the class. Around Wyatt she didn’t feel ugly in her old clothes, with her red hair and freckles and all the things that made her a runt. Jules Conner was so tall she stood at the back of the class with the boys when they took their class picture. Tabitha was always in the front row holding the sign.

“Tabitha, did you hear me?”

Tabitha turned from looking out the window, snapping her attention to the front of the class. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Do you know whose birthdays we celebrate on Presidents’ Day?”

“George Washington?” she guessed.

Mrs. Hatly arched an eyebrow. “And?”

“Thomas Jefferson?”

“No.” Mrs. Hatly pointed to the open book in front of Tabitha. “If you were reading your social studies, you would’ve known it was Abraham Lincoln.”

The class laughed. Tabitha’s cheeks burned, and she sank down lower in her seat as she focused her attention back on the book.

“I didn’t know it either.”

Tabitha turned around, seeing Wyatt lean against his desk to make her hear him from two seats over and one back. She smiled.

“Mr. Conner, do you have something you’d like to add?”

He shook his head, looking undisturbed by the attention. “Not really.”

The teacher might have said more if the door to the classroom hadn’t opened. The principal came in, with her eyes bloodshot and watery. Everyone in the classroom just looked at her as she walked over to Mrs. Hatly and said something under her breath the rest of them couldn’t hear.

Mrs. Hatly cupped a hand to her mouth. “Oh no!”

She didn’t say more. The principal nudged her and then cleared her throat. “Wyatt and Jules. Gather your belongings for the day. Your father is here to take you home.”

“Why?” Wyatt’s voice cut across the silent room, and Tabitha turned around to see his gaze darting from Jules to the teachers standing at the front of the room looking horror struck. “What happened?”

“Grab your things, Wyatt,” she said a little more firmly, but the command lacked authority, as if she really wanted to hug Wyatt instead of reprimand him.

Wyatt and Jules collected their school bags and books. Tabitha saw that Jules was already crying, and she ran out the door first, leaving it wide open for the entire class to see. She stopped when her father stepped away from the wall, and there must have been something in the look on his face, in the slump of his shoulders as he stood there in his tan deputy’s uniform.

Jules let out an ear-piercing scream that Tabitha knew right then would haunt her for the rest of her life, especially when Tabitha turned around and saw the look on Wyatt’s face. He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t screaming, but it was as if Jules was verbalizing what he didn’t know how to express.

In that moment, Wyatt and Jules Conners’s perfect life tarnished in her eyes. How could they know without words what had happened unless there was an undercurrent of fear already? Maybe being in the sheriff’s family wasn’t as easy as Tabitha and Clay thought it was.

“Where is he?” Jules’s wail echoed in the halls. “Where’s my grandpa? I want my grandpa!”

“Come on, baby. Where’s Wy?” Big Fred Conner scooped her up, making tall and perfect Jules look small and broken as she wrapped her arms around him and started sobbing onto his shoulder. “We’re gonna go home and do this.”

When Wyatt walked out of the room, his father reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him to his side. Then he draped a big arm around Wyatt’s shoulders and turned to walk back down the hallway with his children.

Jules’s cries bounced off the walls until they left the building, but there were no apologies. No explanations.

Death was their companion, looming around the corner like a dark threat they understood more than the rest of them. It took years for Tabitha to figure out that most people get there eventually. They realize that life is fragile, that death is inevitable, but for Jules and Wyatt Conner, it’d been there from the very beginning. There was something so sad and terrible about it. Tabitha realized she’d rather go hungry every night than know by just a look that someone she loved was gone forever, as if expecting it all along.

Part Three

The Fallen Hero

Mistakes are always forgivable, if one has the courage to admit them.

—Bruce Lee

Chapter Seven

July 1989

“Excuse me, Mr. Dower, but I was wondering—” Tabitha wrung her hands and glanced nervously at Mr. Dower’s wife Marisa. She didn’t like Tabitha, but she tried to forget that and glanced up at the dark-haired man. “Have you seen Clay?”

Terrance Dower stopped mopping the front of Maple’s One Stop shop and arched an eyebrow at Tabitha. He lowered his voice so his wife couldn’t hear him. “I try hard not to see Clay when he’s in here, if you catch my drift?”

Tabitha nodded, knowing what he meant. Clay had developed the habit of shoplifting. Which was the reason Marisa Dower hated her so much. She had inherited the store from her mother, and it was her pride and joy. She sat at the front counter where they sold the lottery tickets, watching the place like a hawk. Even if Tabitha didn’t steal, she was usually with Clay when he did. Mrs. Dower’s anger wasn’t odd. It was Mr. Dower who was the unusual one because he’d caught Clay stealing food plenty of times and just looked away when he did.

“I can’t find him,” Tabitha said in a hushed whisper, knowing Terrance Dower was her best bet at finding Clay. “I’ve looked everywhere, and I figured if he was hungry, he’d—”

“Darlin’, you’re mumbling.” Mr. Dower leaned down lower and looked her in the eye. “Now tell me again what’s the problem.”

“He ran away.” Tabitha’s voice was soft and fearful because she didn’t want Clay to get in trouble. “And I don’t know where he’s at.”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” he said confidently. “He’s probably just off finding trouble like boys do.”

Clay hadn’t been home in three weeks. When his mother moved out and left him with her boyfriend, Clay packed up and left after the first black eye. Up until two days ago, he’d been keeping in contact with Tabitha, but now she couldn’t find him. He wasn’t finding trouble. He was homeless and hungry, and Tabitha didn’t know how to verbalize all that in a way that wouldn’t have Mr. Dower calling the sheriff.

She nodded and turned away. “Thank you.”

“I might have seen him this morning,” Mr. Dower called out as Tabitha walked to the door.

Tabitha breathed a sigh of relief as she turned around and smiled at him. “Really?”

“You want Terry to help you look for him? He’s just in the back doing inventory.”

She shook her head, because Mrs. Dower was sending long, furious glances at her husband that made it clear she didn’t want Terry anywhere but in the stockroom. Tabitha would have declined anyway. Their youngest son, Terry, seemed like a decent kid, but he was already in middle school, and that made her nervous. She was always waiting for older boys to turn mean like Brett and Vaughn.

Boys could be cruel. She didn’t trust them, even the nice ones like Terry Dower.

Which was why it was so weird that her only two friends were boys.

Maybe Wyatt would help her look without telling his dad. He and Clay hated each other more than ever, but this was different. It sort of felt like an emergency. Clay had been getting thinner since he ran away. She couldn’t leave him out there all alone. He thought he didn’t want her help, which was basically what he told her the last time she’d seen him, but Tabitha didn’t really care. He was getting her help if he wanted it or not, and she’d even risk telling Wyatt about it to make sure he was okay.

Clay was going to be furious. Being homeless was making him really grouchy.

“I’ll find him.” She gave Mr. Dower another smile of gratitude, because now she knew Clay was still in town, and he’d at least managed to steal something to eat this morning. “Thank you.”

She got onto Brett’s old bike she’d parked outside the store and decided to ride to the rec center. Wyatt practically lived there since his grandfather died. Big Fred Conner had taken over as sheriff, and he was a very busy man. He took full advantage of all the after-school and summer programs and signed the Conner twins up for everything.

Unlike Clay, Wyatt was always easy to find.

The rec center wasn’t a far ride, but the bike didn’t cooperate that well, and the summer heat was unbearable. She was sweaty and miserable by the time she got there. She parked her bike in the rack on the side of the building, putting it next to Wyatt’s brand-new Huffy that he’d gotten for his birthday. She didn’t bother locking her bike up. No one would want it.

She worked on retying her long hair in a ponytail and wiped at the sweat running down her temples. Her shirt was sticking to her, and her jeans were stained from the rusted chain. She brushed at them as she walked up the front of the rec center.

Tabitha hated for anyone to see her looking dirty, but Wyatt most especially.

She made a detour to the ladies’ room to wash her face. She winced at her reflection in the mirror. Her freckles had multiplied under the summer sun, and she was burned from riding around looking for Clay the past few days.

“Hey, Tabitha.” Jules walked into the bathroom with Serena Dennis, sounding bouncy and upbeat as usual. “What’re you doing here?”

Tabitha turned to the two girls, who were both pressed and perfect-looking in their karate outfits. Jules was exceedingly tan, which caused her light blue eyes to stand out more than ever and made her hair seem even blonder.

“I was just looking for Wyatt.”

“Ain’t gonna find him in here.” Serena giggled.

Tabitha flushed, feeling stupid, but Jules didn’t notice. She just smiled and offered, “He’s boxing.”

“Ah.” Tabitha smiled back, because that’d save her from wandering around and peeking in all the classes. Wyatt took so many, he could be in any one of them. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing.” Jules had a look on her face, as if she knew something Tabitha didn’t. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

Serena giggled again, and this time Jules laughed with her.

Tabitha walked out of the bathroom feeling as if she wasn’t just left out of the joke but was somehow part of it. She’d given up trying to understand other girls. Scared of boys, uncomfortable around girls. Tabitha had more issues than Clay.

She knew where the boxing was, because she’d come to the rec center sometimes. It was cool in there, and it got her out of the house over the long summer months. Even if she couldn’t afford to take any of the classes, there were activities that were free on Tuesdays, and sometimes she just liked to watch Wyatt take his classes.

He was one of those people who was good at everything. In that respect, he was very much like his sister. He might not excel at school, but he did well enough, and once school was out and they let him loose on the football field or put him in a boxing ring, he was amazing.

Tabitha’s fingers itched to grab one of her notebooks just thinking about it. Sometimes she wrote stories when she was on the outs with the library. Brett liked to rip up her books. He knew it took her forever to find the money to pay the library back for them and re-earn the privilege of borrowing more.

So she wrote her own stories, but she always changed Wyatt’s name so no one would know she was writing about him. Tabitha learned a long time ago that her imagination was one of the few things that couldn’t be taken away from her. She liked stories with real heroes and over-the-top adventures, ones that she could get completely lost in. Wyatt Conner made good hero material.

She walked into the room, seeing that Wyatt was actually in the ring with Manny Hardan, who was thirteen and bigger than him. That didn’t seem to deter him. Wyatt bounced around him, red boxing gloves held up as he dodged each of Manny’s blows. She winced every time Manny took a swing, but Wyatt ducked and moved in a way that was almost like dancing.

Tabitha sat on one of the benches in the corner, willing to wait patiently until he was done with practice. Fighting didn’t bother her like it did some girls. She saw it all the time in her backyard or around the corner at the trailer park. Her uncles would get into fights. Her brother would get into fights. Last month, before he’d run off, Clay had gotten into it with both Brett and Vaughn, and he’d held his own.

Growing up where they did, fighting was just a way of life, but Tabitha liked watching this version of it much better, without the dirt or asphalt breaking their falls. Here there were rules.

“Dang it, Conner, does this look like a martial arts class?” The coach leaned over the ropes, his face flushed red as he glared at Wyatt. “If I catch you kicking again, you’re sitting on the bench in the corner with the girls for the rest of practice!”

She glanced around her to see if she’d missed some other girl. Six boys were hanging out and talking on the other side of the room, but the only person in the corner was her.

Wyatt looked toward her, and Tabitha could see him frown. Then Manny capitalized on his distraction and punched him hard enough that Tabitha flinched. Rather than go down, Wyatt responded by punching him back, making Manny’s head snap roughly to the side. Then he bounced back and kicked Manny in the stomach as if to make his point.

“Foul, Conner!” the coach yelled and pointed to where Tabitha was sitting. “You’re out for the rest of practice! Disqualified.”

Wyatt ducked under the rope as the coach called one of the other boys in to finish the round. He was shirtless and covered in sweat, but he didn’t seem to mind as he walked over to where Tabitha was sitting.

He fell down on the bench next to her and held out his gloves. “Untie ’em.”

She didn’t question his manners. He was mumbling through his mouth guard, and she knew he couldn’t say much. She just made quick work of untying his first glove. When she got it off, he pulled out his mouth guard that was covered in spit and blood.

Gross.

Tabitha went to work on his other glove rather than say anything.

“What’re you doing here?” Wyatt asked because he was always good at filling in the silence. “Did they change community days?”

She shook her head as she pulled off his other glove and set it down on the bench next to the first one. Then she looked up and studied him in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Right as rain.” Wyatt tossed his mouth guard on the bench. “I think I was winning till the coach got technical.”

Tabitha tried to bite her tongue, but she couldn’t help but point out, “You put that in your mouth.”

“What?” Wyatt frowned at her. “The mouth guard? So?”

“And you just put it on the bench.” Tabitha gave him a look when he didn’t seem to be getting what she was saying. “People sweat on that bench.”

He laughed as he started picking at the white tape wrapped tightly around his knuckles. “You’re weird, Tab.”

Tabitha couldn’t argue with that. She knew she didn’t fit in, so she just pointed out, “I don’t think it’s sanitary.”

“My dad washes ’em in the dishwasher. It’ll be fine.”

Double gross.

“Poor Jules.”

If she had to eat on dishes washed in the same machine as her brother’s dirty mouth guard, she’d pull a Clay and live on the streets.

“Poor Jules? Poor Me. I’m stuck living with her.” Wyatt snorted as he looked up and frowned. “You sunburned?”

Tabitha cupped her hot cheeks, feeling embarrassed. “Yes, a little.”

“Is your brother picking on you? Is that why you’ve been outside so much?”

Tabitha shook her head as she silently debated with herself about Clay. She often sugarcoated things. Wyatt knew Brett was an annoyance, but he didn’t know how cruel he could get. He knew Tabitha and Clay were poor, but he didn’t understand there were still nights when she didn’t eat. Telling Wyatt about Clay running away felt like a huge betrayal of trust. If only she had more friends, but Wyatt was the only other person she talked to.

“You know you can come hang out at the rec center,” Wyatt went on like he always did when Tabitha was searching for the right words. “Or you could hang out at my house after my dad gets off work. I know you hate my dad, but—”

“I don’t hate your dad,” Tabitha said defensively. “My family does.”

“Figures.” Wyatt looked away and huffed. “Only criminals hate my dad.”

That was true, so Tabitha didn’t argue with him. She just sat there silently and thought about Wyatt’s world in comparison to hers. To him, Clay would be a criminal. That was likely why he hated him so much. Even if he didn’t know the details, he could probably sense it. Clay stole things all the time. Food, clothes, one time he even stole a headband for Tabitha. She wore it because she didn’t have many pretty things.

“I have to go now.” Tabitha stood up, determined to look for Clay on her own. Asking Wyatt for help was a horrible idea. Heroes didn’t help the bad guys. They only helped people who lived in nice houses and had food to eat without having to steal it. “I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Oh, hey!” Wyatt reached out and grabbed her arm. “You don’t have to leave. I was being a jerk.”

“No, you weren’t.” She shook her head quickly, because she wasn’t mad at him. He was always honest, and she liked that about him. She pulled her arm out of his. “I just have something to do. Bye, Wyatt.”

She ran out the door before she could change her mind, because she really wanted to believe she wasn’t one of the bad guys, but the truth was she wasn’t so sure. Just like Clay, she often thought it was a matter of time. She knew stealing was wrong, but she sort of agreed with Clay—being hungry was worse.

She ran down the hallway, having the thought that maybe today was a good day to start being what she was meant to be. She really needed a hat. Her face burned so badly from too much sun. Or maybe some sunscreen they kept at the front of the store during the summer months. She knew because she spied them all the time, and she wanted it desperately. She loved the sun. It just didn’t love her.

Sunscreen would solve everything. The Dowers wouldn’t miss one little bottle.

She was so caught up in thought, she almost ran smack into someone at the end of the hallway. She skidded to a halt and shouted triumphantly when she saw who it was. “Clay!”

Without thinking, she jumped at him and wrapped both her arms around his neck. Clay stood there awkwardly, letting her hug him.

“You’re sunburned.” Clay was clearly looking away to cover up how uncomfortable he felt with Tabitha hanging on him, but he didn’t push her away, which was a minor miracle. He had been meaner than a grizzly bear the last time she’d seen him. He even offered helpfully, “I could steal ya some sunscreen.”

Tabitha laughed and hugged him tighter, seeing the peace offering for what it was.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Tabitha hit his shoulder when she pulled away. “Why didn’t you—”

Clay cut her off by coughing loudly. “Piglet.”

Tabitha turned around, seeing Wyatt standing there. “Oh.”

Bold as ever, still dressed in his boxing shorts with the white tape wrapped around both knuckles, Wyatt walked up to them. He eyed Clay’s stained clothes and long hair with a look of distaste. Clay was dirty, but Tabitha still stiffened in his defense.

“Ain’t you got somewhere to be, Conner?” Clay growled, his voice low with danger. “I know you ain’t got a mama, pig, but the sheriff’s always got someone round to make sure his piglets follow the rules.”

Tabitha gasped and turned to Clay in horror. She couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He didn’t even notice her shock. His eyes were narrowed menacingly, but then so were Wyatt’s.

“Better a mama who’s dead, than one who has been behind bars more times than you can count, not that that’s saying a whole lot far as you’re concerned. We all know school’s not your thing,” Wyatt retaliated without even flinching as he met Clay’s furious glare fearlessly. He leaned in, giving Clay an evil smile. “I’ve seen them drag her in, Powers. Most of the time, she’s so out of it she can’t even walk.”

“Fuck you, Conner!” Clay took a threatening step forward. “Don’t you talk ’bout my mama.”

“Why not?” Wyatt laughed. “Everyone does. The whole dang town knows she’s trash.”

Tabitha had backed away from both of them, sensing impending violence, and she wasn’t even surprised when Clay lashed out first. His fist connected with Wyatt’s jaw, making a responding crack that had Tabitha wanting to close her eyes, but she didn’t.

“Clay, no!” she shouted before she could stop herself when she saw Clay was going to hit him a second time. “Please don’t—”

Her words were cut off when Wyatt lashed back with stunning speed, dodging Clay’s second punch and then catching him in the side with a hard jab that made Clay gasp out loud in pain. Maybe it was the tape on his fists, maybe it was because Wyatt was better cared for and well fed, maybe it was just the black belt he’d earned at the beginning of the summer. Whatever the reason, Wyatt Conner was able to drag Clay Powers, the biggest kid in their grade, to the ground with very little problem. The horror of it trapped her voice in the back of her throat.

Tabitha flattened herself against the wall, watching with wide eyes as the only two friends she had in the entire world went after each other with a wild fury she’d seen too many times before.

A crowd of kids gathered around the fight, but Tabitha barely noticed them cheering on the violence with rabid enthusiasm. It felt like all the color fell out of her world to the sickening sound of fists against skin.

She’d never believed in Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. They never came to her house. She’d always known they weren’t real, but she had unwaveringly believed in real-life heroes with every fiber of her being until the moment she saw Wyatt Conner slam Clay’s head against the cement hard enough to make a sickening thud.

All boys turned mean eventually.

Tabitha turned around and left before she could see who won.

It wasn’t until she’d started burning all her notebooks in the bin in the backyard that she snapped out of her shock enough to feel guilty about leaving Clay. It wasn’t his fault Tabitha had been naive enough to still believe in fairy tales. He would think she was stupid for believing Wyatt was a hero to begin with. If he’d known about her stories, he would have probably stopped talking to her.

She threw some sticks into the fire that was dancing up past the metal rim as the smoke curled toward the sky. She had more notebooks than she realized, and all her hard work burned impressively well. She wanted to watch them for a few more minutes; then she’d go look for Clay and say sorry for being a bad friend. He was tough. She’d seen him fight many times before, and she knew he’d be okay, but she still needed to find him. Maybe she’d try her hand at stealing and grab him something to eat from Maple’s.

“If Mama catches you playing with fire, she’ll tan your ass.”

Tabitha jumped when Brett came down the steps in the backyard. Then she quickly looked around the yard, making sure she hadn’t forgotten to throw one of the notebooks in the fire. She’d been hiding them for years. It’d be terrible for him to get ahold of one now and make fun of her on the day she knew they weren’t true. All those stories about one unique boy saving lost orphans, feeding the homeless cookies, or rescuing puppies out of abandoned mines, and it’d been a lie. He’d grown up mean just like the rest of them.

She was still distracted with looking for the notebooks when Brett walked past her.

“Don’t burn the house down, runt.” He shoved her, forcing her to throw out her hands to stop herself from falling into the fire. She screeched when both her open palms connected with the metal bin. He paused when Tabitha jumped back, holding out her hands from the shock of pain. He narrowed his eyes at her. “You start wailing, and I’ll give you something to cry about.”

He walked off quickly, which was a small blessing. He must have wanted to put distance between them in case the burns were serious enough for him to get in trouble. Tabitha fell to the ground, looking at her hands that were already scorched red. As she watched, blisters formed, and the pain radiating out from the burns was so intense she tasted blood as she bit her lip to keep from screaming again.

It wasn’t until Brett was riding his bike down the driveway that the first sob was torn out of her. The burns gave her the excuse to cry, and she used it to her full advantage. Tabitha curled up in the dirt and sobbed over make-believe heroes and real-life villains until the sun went down and all her dreams turned to ash.

Chapter Eight

“I’m telling, Wyatt! If you don’t stop hitting him, I’m telling right now!”

It was Jules’s voice ringing over the shouting crowd that caused the first thread of clarity to filter in past the red haze of fury. Wyatt hated Clay for his constant piglet jabs and scowling bad attitude. He was the meanest kid in their class. No one liked him. Which was why it really galled Wyatt that Tabitha was always hanging on him. She’d never hugged Wyatt like that, and he was nicer than Clay Powers.

He was better-looking too.

Tabitha didn’t pay half as much attention to him as she did to Clay. It wasn’t fair, and he hit Clay again out of the burning frustration that had been building for as long as he could remember. He wasn’t even sure why it made him so angry, but it did.

“Coach Jasper!”

Dang, but Jules was loud. Her voice echoed all the way down the hallway as she took off running toward the boxing ring. Several of the girls followed after her, and other students turned away rather than get caught gawking at the fight.

Wyatt had the good sense to try to get off Clay before the coach showed up, but that didn’t stop Clay from punching him one more time in the side. The punch lacked the strength his other jabs had, but on instinct Wyatt pulled his fist back in retaliation to get another good hit in. He paused when he looked at Clay’s face.

Clay was covered in blood, so much so Wyatt couldn’t tell where it was all coming from. The icy rush of fear and horror was so overwhelming Wyatt got sick to his stomach between one heartbeat and the next.

He couldn’t have possibly done that. Clay’s lip was split. His eye left eye was already swollen shut, and his mouth was bleeding so much he had to spit blood rather than choke.

Wyatt had been fighting all his life. On the mat. In the ring. He never appreciated all those annoying rules until right then. It was horrifying what a little fit of fury could cause, and it was his fault.

“Are you okay?” Wyatt managed to whisper past the nausea rising in the back of his throat.

“Get off me, piglet.” Clay’s voice was slurred, but there was a snarl to it as he shoved at Wyatt for good measure, forcing him to the ground.

Wyatt stayed where he was, staring at Clay, who wiped at his mouth. Clay’s one good eye was still narrowed menacingly at Wyatt. The hatred was so blatant the few students left watching backed up when Clay got to his feet.

He wavered where he stood, and on instinct, Wyatt reached out to him. Clay flinched, and Wyatt had never felt so low in his entire life. It was as if he were looking at a person outside himself. He couldn’t put it together that he had been the one to do this, that he had somehow turned into everything he had been raised to fight against. Someone who hurt rather than helped. A person who let his anger overrule his common sense, and all because he’d seen Tabitha hug Clay. It had caused such raw fury to surge through his bloodstream he actually saw red.

He was in so much trouble.

As he stood there considering how many different ways his father was going to bury him for this, Clay took off, and Wyatt couldn’t even think to stop him before Jules’s shrill voice carried down the hallway again.

“I think they’re both hurt! Hurry!”

“Conner!” Coach Jasper was running full-out but stopped to glare down the hallway before he turned to Wyatt and studied him with wide, horrified eyes. “Did that Powers boy do that to you? I got half a mind to call the sheriff on him. I would if I didn’t know he was gonna lose his marbles over you.”

“What?” Wyatt frowned and wiped at his mouth and then looked at his hand, finding it covered with blood.

“Are you okay, Wy?” Jules asked in concern as she came up behind Coach Jasper. “Your eye is swollen near closed. Coach Jasper, I think we do need to call my daddy.”

Coach Jasper huffed in defeat before he leaned down to look at Wyatt’s face. It was obvious he wasn’t thrilled about the idea of calling up the sheriff to tell him his son got into a fight when he was supposed to be in boxing. “Why the heck didn’t ya send someone after me before you let that big redneck beat ya near to death?”

Wyatt blinked in shock. “You think it was his fault?”

“Wasn’t it?”

Wyatt looked to Jules, who was glancing between the coach and Wyatt. Her lips were pinched in disapproval, but amazingly his sister stayed silent. She wasn’t going to rat him out. Too bad Wyatt’s conscience wouldn’t let him run with it.

“I did it.” Wyatt shook his head in defeat. “The fight was my fault, and he’s hurt worse than me. A lot worse. Someone ought to go find him.”

Wyatt turned to leave, because he was fairly certain he should be the one to go make sure Clay was okay. Even if he didn’t like him, he sure didn’t want him dropping dead for hugging Tabitha.

“Whoa, there, boy.” Coach Jasper grabbed his arm. “You ain’t looking too peachy either. We got to put in a call to the sheriff’s office right now.”

“Are you gonna tell him it’s my fault?” Wyatt couldn’t help but ask.

“Well, I surely ain’t gonna lie to him.” The coach laughed bitterly. “If I’m going under the bus, you’re going down with me. Why the heck couldn’t you wait until after boxing to start the dang fight?”

* * *

Wyatt’s father studied Wyatt’s face under the flickering florescent lights in Coach Jasper’s office. “If he hit you first, why do you think it was your fault?”

Wyatt shrugged. He wasn’t real sure why everyone was set and determined to make this fight Clay’s fault instead of his. “I just think it is.”

“What aren’t you telling me? ’Cause I know we ain’t hearing the whole story.” His father turned to glare at Coach Jasper. “And what the heck was Wyatt doing out of class? Is the Powers boy taking classes here? Why’s he just walking in off the street? It ain’t even a community day. What the heck kinda operation are you running, Jasper?”

Coach Jasper noticeably paled; he opened his mouth, and the words seemed stuck in his throat. “I, um—”

Jules kicked Wyatt’s leg from her seat next to him, and Wyatt grunted, hearing her silent communication loud and clear.

“I sorta said some things ’bout his mama,” Wyatt mumbled under his breath.

His father’s head snapped around, and he narrowed dark eyes at him. “What did you say?”

“Something ’bout her being trash.”

Coach Jasper winced. “Well, it can’t be the first time he heard that.”

“I might’ve mentioned something ’bout seeing her being dragged into the sheriff’s office.”

His father groaned. “Christ, Wyatt.”

Wyatt felt his face flame. It sounded so much worse when he repeated it to his father.

“Well, I’d surely have decked you for that.” His father shook his head. “That mouth of yours. It’s always way ahead of your brain. What made ya say something so half-cocked?”

Wyatt shrugged and looked to Jules uncertainly because he was almost positive she knew the real reason.

“Clay wasn’t looking too good, Daddy. He was bleeding more than Wyatt is,” Jules whispered as if choosing that to be the better confession than Wyatt’s crush on Tabitha. “I think he needs a doctor.”

“How bad was he?” his father asked in concern.

“Bad,” Jules and Wyatt said in unison in the way they were apt to do in stressful situations like this.

“Wyatt does have a black belt,” Jasper said with a sidelong glance at the sheriff. “And he’s fighting way above his age group in boxing.”

Wyatt couldn’t help but sit up at that. “Really?”

His father turned to arch an eyebrow at him, as if daring him to say more. Wyatt shrank back and lowered his gaze rather than ask how far above his age group Coach Jasper thought he was fighting, but it was on the tip of his tongue.

“Okay, come on.” His father stood up and picked his sheriff’s hat up off Coach Jasper’s desk. “We got to go find the Powers boy.”

It wasn’t until they got into his sheriff’s jeep and away from prying eyes that his father let loose.

“I swear, Wyatt, you’re gonna be the death of me. What gives you the right to go run your mouth ’bout things you see at my place of work? That sorta thing’s supposed to be kept private. The way you’re heading, Jules is gonna be the next sheriff ’cause I ain’t even sure I can trust you anymore.”

Wyatt turned to narrow his eyes at Jules, expecting her to add insult to injury. Instead she was looking out the window, flinching when their father started in again as if it were her under the gun.

“What’d you got to say ’bout all that?”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Well, sorry surely ain’t gonna cut it this time. I hope you’re thinking of a mighty fine apology for Powers, ’cause I ain’t doubting for a moment that it was your fault. That mouth of yours could make a saint violent.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“I ain’t never been so ashamed of my kin. I got half a mind to lock you up. You know what aggravated assault means, don’t ya?”

Wyatt nodded. “Yes, sir. I know what it means.”

“That’s a mighty serious offense. You feel like explaining to Judge Carter why you decided to run your mouth just ’cause you like the sound of your voice and then beat a boy that ain’t got half as many privileges as you to make yourself feel bigger and meaner?”

Wyatt shook his head as he avoided looking at his father, who was driving faster than usual, which was saying something. “No, sir.”

“Then what’re you gonna do to make up for it? ’Cause I’m truly considering it. Since it’s fun to run your mouth ’bout being hauled into the sheriff’s office, maybe it’s time you find out what it feels like.”

Wyatt shrugged again. He had no earthly idea what he could do to make up for this. On instinct he looked at Jules. His sister had an answer for everything.

“I wouldn’t say Wyatt was bigger than Clay,” Jules put in without missing a beat, as if she couldn’t resist his silent cry for help. “I think Clay’s taller.”

“Well, taller don’t mean—”

“And bigger.” Jules held out her hand as if imitating a giant. “And I heard from Susie that he got into a fight at the trailer park and beat both Vaughn Davis and Brett McMillen, and they’re two years older.”

“But—”

“And Clay threw the first punch,” Jules went on as if her father hadn’t tried to argue.

“Only ’cause of Wyatt’s mouth. What he said was beyond cruel.”

“But you’re always saying not to lose our tempers ’cause of words.” Jules voice took on an innocent, high-pitched tone like it always did when she was being manipulative, and for some reason only Wyatt ever noticed the change. “Isn’t that true, Daddy?”

“Well, it’s true, but that don’t make it okay what he did.”

“But if you’re arresting people for words, wouldn’t ya have to arrest everyone?”

“I’m arresting him for beating on the boy.”

“But that was self-defense, and you said if anyone tries to hurt us, we should defend ourselves and—”

“Jules, just hush. I’m sick of both your mouths.”

Jules opened her mouth as if to argue that point too, before their father turned to glare at her. “I ain’t kidding, missy. You’re ’bout to be in as much trouble as Wyatt.”

“That seems unfair.” Jules folded her arms over her chest. “Like I’m not allowed to have an opinion. Miss Katling says it’s like the woman’s revolution never happened round here, and it’s our job to remind fellas of our rights.”

“Miss Katling has armpit hair and a nonexistent dating record,” his father said with a growl of frustration. “What the hell kinda things was she teaching you in that young woman’s class anyhow?”

Wyatt gave his father a wide-eyed look of warning. Jules had told him what she learned in that young woman’s class Miss Katling was hosting at the rec center, and he’d rather be grounded the rest of the summer than hear Jules blurt it all out in front of their father. He wasn’t even surprised when Jules started before their father could catch the hint.

“They told us about periods and sex and—”

“Forget it.” He held up his hands in defeat. “Please, Jules. Hush for five minutes. I’m begging you. I got a headache a mile wide.”

“Seems like if we’re arresting people for words, it surely ain’t nice to say Miss Katling has armpit hair.” Jules huffed. “I like Miss Katling.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I heard you,” Jules said sullenly.

“I did too,” Wyatt couldn’t help but point out. “And you said she had a bad dating record.”

“God almighty, you two wear me out and confuse me in between. If you’re not killing each other, you’re doing this. Don’t think for one moment I don’t know what you did, Juliet. You’re changing the subject on purpose. You always bring up Miss Katling when you’re trying to get out of trouble. He’s still grounded.”

Jules turned and gave Wyatt an apologetic look, and Wyatt could only shrug in response. He surely couldn’t have put up that good of a defense for himself. If it’d been left up to him, he’d probably be spending the night in a jail cell.

His sister had a dark gift.

“And guess what you’re doing right now, buddy. You’re going out to the Powers place with me to say sorry to him face-to-face. I ain’t facing that alone.”

Wyatt nodded, deciding it was the least he deserved.

Chapter Nine

Wyatt never had to say sorry. Turned out there was no Clay Powers at the trailer park. He’d run away from home, and Wyatt went from feeling bad to horrible when his father had to launch a full-out search to find the homeless, injured kid his son had beaten black and blue.

When the sun set and their father still hadn’t returned from his quest to find Clay, Deputy Henry Caraway came and stayed with them. Though both Jules and Wyatt knew how to heat up one of the stacks of frozen meals their father had stored in the freezer, Henry took over and fixed them a real meal, which would’ve been a nice novelty if he didn’t come bearing bad news.

“Can you imagine him living on the streets all this time? How the heck’s he been surviving? You missed it, but after he dropped y’all off at home, your daddy dragged that dumb fool who’d been in charge of the Powers boy in for endangering a minor. Why the heck didn’t he report a kid his age running away?”

Wyatt was going to be physically ill. His stomach lurched, and he looked down at his food with a moan of misery. “I ain’t really hungry.”

“Boy, you’re always hungry.”

“Not always.”

“I think you’re upsetting him.” Jules gave Henry a look. “He already feels bad because of the fight. Now he found out he was beating on a homeless kid. He probably wants to drown himself.”

Nice of Jules to voice all his innermost demons out loud. Why’d God have to curse him with a twin who knew what he was thinking more often than not?

“You really sick, Wyatt?”

“Yes, I’m really sick.” Wyatt rubbed his head. “Can I go lay down?”

“Maybe I oughta call the doc,” Henry mused as he studied Wyatt across the table. “You ain’t looking so great tonight, boy.”

“I’m fine.” Wyatt got up without permission, hoping to take the attention off his bruised face because the last thing he wanted was Dr. Philips showing up. “I’m just tired.”

Henry didn’t stop him from sulking up to bed. Wyatt crawled under the covers, wishing he could go to sleep, but the pounding in his head, the rolling in his stomach, and the knowledge that Clay Powers was out there feeling worse than he did kept him staring at the darkened ceiling. He was so caught up in his thoughts he winced when the door to his bedroom opened, casting a ray of light from the hallway over his face.

He threw his hands over his eyes. “Close it quick.”

The door clicked shut, and Jules whispered, “How come you’re hiding up here like a coward?”

“I ain’t a coward.” He moaned. “I’m sick, Ju Ju.”

“I thought you were just hiding from Henry.” Her voice was suddenly low and concerned.

“That too. But I swear to God, I’m one wrong move from throwing up.”

“Maybe it’s a stomach bug. I hope you don’t give it me.” Jules sat down on his bed, making it bounce because she was always high energy.

That was the wrong move, and Wyatt physically shoved his sister to the ground in his attempt to make it out of bed and to his bathroom fast enough. He retched into the toilet, losing not just his dinner, but anything he’d likely eaten for the past week. He’d never thrown up so violently.

“Henry!” Jules’s voice echoed off the tile in the bathroom.

“Don’t!” Wyatt growled, hugging the toilet because just talking was making him worse, and the throbbing in his head made him feel like he was going to pass out right there on the tile. “He’ll call Dad, and then he’ll stop looking for Clay.”

“But—”

“Stomach flu don’t kill people,” Wyatt reminded her and then promptly threw up again.

“Jules?” Henry came bursting into Wyatt’s room.

In his life, he’d never seen someone move or think as fast as Jules. She managed to run out of his bathroom, shutting the door behind, and then say in a falsely bright voice, “Can you show me how to heat up some leftovers for Wyatt? Daddy told me to look after him.”

“That’s what you were screeching over?” Henry asked in disbelief. “I thought someone was dying up here.”

“Nope,” Jules said without missing a beat.

“Where’s Wyatt?” he asked, sounding suspicious.

“Brushing his teeth.”

“He’s gonna eat dinner after he brushes his teeth?”

“Boys are gross,” Jules said with such confidence even Wyatt was inclined to believe her.

“Okay, come on, missy. I reckon you ought to learn how to heat up leftovers, ’cause the sheriff surely ain’t gonna teach ya. Has he thought of putting you in a home economics class since he can’t cook to save his life?”

“You’re saying I’m supposed to learn ’cause I’m a girl?” Jules’s voice was shrill with insult.

“Now I ain’t saying that.”

“You didn’t ask Wyatt to take a home economics class.” Jules’s voice drifted out of the room and down the hallway. “You know Miss Katling says…”

* * *

Wyatt was on the floor when Jules showed back up. The cool tile was a nice distraction from the downward spiral his reality had taken in the past twelve hours. It seemed a mighty feat to ruin his life before middle school. The room was spinning, and he wished he had the energy to get up and flip off the bathroom light. It was making his headache so much worse.

“I brought you food.”

“Thanks, Ju Ju Bean,” he mumbled despite both of them knowing he wasn’t going to eat it.

“Your face looks pretty bad.”

“I reckon so,” Wyatt agreed.

“Did you fight with him ’cause of Tabitha?”

Wyatt grunted in agreement because the sound of his own voice made everything so much more painful.

“That was pretty dumb.”

He did a thumbs-up because he could always count on Jules to state the obvious.

“What’s so special ’bout her anyway? At least ten other girls have asked you to go steady. Prettier girls.”

“Shut up,” he couldn’t help but growl. “She’s pretty.”

“I guess, but she’s got like a million freckles.”

He actually managed to smile, which nearly killed his split lip. “I like freckles.”

“You are so weird.”

“And you ain’t?” he mumbled and managed to roll on his side to look at his sister, who was sitting cross-legged in her nightgown on the floor next to him. “I am so green.”

Jules pulled back. “Don’t breathe on me.”

Wyatt made a point of blowing in her direction just because. When Jules screeched, he groaned and put his hand to his head once more. “Your voice, Ju Ju. Didn’t ya hear me say I’m dying?”

“Why’s my voice make your head hurt?”

“’Cause it’s annoying.”

“You’re annoying,” Jules shot back quickly before her voice softened. “But really, are you sure you got a stomach bug?”

“Why else would I be puking?”

Jules leaned over to feel his forehead, and Wyatt blew on her again. He didn’t count on her shoving his head when he did it, and he had to choke back a shout from the white-hot pulse of pain.

He covered his head protectively and let out a half sob. “I hate you.”

Jules touched his head again, as if testing to see if she got the same response. He let out a low growl and shoved her in retaliation. The movement made his stomach lurch, and he had to jump to knees and throw up again. It was only as he was hovering over the toilet that he realized he should’ve puked on Jules instead—just because.

“Wy Wy,” Jules whispered. “I think there’s something really wrong with you.”

It wasn’t one of Jules’s more brilliant observations.

“Your daddy’s home.” Henry’s voice carried up from downstairs because all cops seemed to have those loud, booming voices. “He’s got the Powers boy with him.”

Wyatt wiped his mouth and collapsed against the tile, knowing he should be relieved they’d found Clay, but he was too sick to manage it. He’d been competing in sports since he was old enough to walk. He’d broken his arm once in judo. He’d cracked a rib in football. He and Jules had shared a million illnesses, and none of that had him feeling worse than he did at that moment. The guilt sure didn’t help his problem.

“I’m telling.” Jules hopped to her feet. “I think you need Dr. Philips.”

Chapter Ten

Jules ran down the stairs, having the fleeting thought that she probably ought to put a robe on before Clay Powers walked into the house. Her Daddy got funny about things like that lately, but it seemed like too much to be fussed with. She stopped when she saw her father helping Clay through the door.

As amazing as it was, he looked worse than her brother. Clay was doubled over. His face was bruised twice as badly as Wyatt’s, and he sort of looked like he was going to…

“Oh shit!” Her father growled when Clay puked on his shoes in the entryway.

Jules thought he was angry about the mess but instead he just picked up Clay like he weighed nothing even though he was the tallest kid in the sixth grade.

“Forget it, Henry. I got to drive this boy up to Mercy. I thought I could get away with calling Doc Philips, but Wyatt’s given him a concussion for sure. I’ll pay ya extra to stay with the twins till morning.”

“Shoot, Sheriff, you ain’t gotta pay me.”

“Wyatt’s throwing up too!” Jules shouted when her father turned on his heel and was already out the door.

He swung around, staring at her with wide eyes. “What?”

“You never told me that!” Henry gave her a horrified look before he turned back to her father defensively. “I swear, Sheriff, they never—”

“Take Powers.” Her father walked back to Henry and handed over Clay, who looked so sick he didn’t even care that he was in a house full of cops and piglets.

Her father took the stairs two at a time, and Jules ran to keep up with his long, powerful stride.

“Why the heck didn’t you tell Henry he was ill?”

“He didn’t want you to stop looking for Clay.”

Her father burst into Wyatt’s room. His eyes were so wide and terrified it scared Jules too. When he found Wyatt on the floor, he let out a low, primal sound of horror. “Oh God, Wy!”

Jules was already in tears. Her hands were shaking, and for one horrifying moment she had the thought of living the rest of her life without her twin. Her voice was a high-pitched screech of fear because she didn’t for one moment doubt the cruelty of fate that could yank the people she loved away from her.

“Shut her up.” Wyatt pressed both his hands to his head. “I’d rather be in a jail cell.”

“Jules, hush.” Her father leaned down and scooped up Wyatt, which made her brother groan in pain. “Just take a deep breath. We’re gonna take him up to Mercy. They’ll fix him.”

He didn’t sound very sure about it, because his voice was shaking, and Jules wasn’t inclined to believe him under the circumstances, because her father was always unbendingly confident.

“I’m coming,” she said quickly, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that if Wyatt was going to the hospital, she was too. “Is he dying? Please don’t let him die, Daddy.”

“Will you stop talk talking ’bout him dying? No one’s dying.” Her father sounded like an angry bear as he turned to walk out of the bedroom with Wyatt.

“Grandpa died! And our mama died, and if Wyatt dies, I’ll die ’cause—”

“Juliet!”

She let out a sob of horror as she followed him down the hallway. “I need to go with you. I can’t let him go to the hospital without me ’cause—”

“Then get dressed!”

Jules had never gotten dressed so fast in her entire life.

* * *

Henry offered to come with them, but there was no room in the sheriff’s jeep. So they made a very odd crew as Jules sat in the front set with her daddy, who was driving at least fifty miles over the speed limit to Mercy General with his sirens blazing. It seemed the noise wasn’t helping either Clay or Wyatt, who were both in the backseat with buckets in their laps and a green look on both their faces. Every once in a while, one or the other of them would lean over and throw up, and every time they did, her father would stomp on the gas harder.

The nerves had Jules talking a mile a minute. She was worse than Wyatt at the moment.

“What does a concussion mean? Does it mean he’s broken his head? I know something’s wrong with his head. I can feel it.”

“Something like that.”

Jules let out another screech of horror.

“Dang it, Jules, it’s not that bad. I’ve had a concussion before. Do I look dead?”

Something about that scared Jules even more, and she let out another sob.

“Jules,” Wyatt groaned from the backseat. “If I promise not to die, will you stop howling?”

Jules sniffed and turned to look at him. “Maybe.”

“I’m not gonna die,” Wyatt assured her. “I promise.”

She sniffed again as she studied her brother, with his bruised face, sitting next to his longtime enemy. Wyatt was the world’s worst liar. If he promised something, he always meant it. She felt a wave of relief wash over her almost instantly. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Wyatt agreed as he fell back against the seat. “She’ll be quiet now.”

“She ain’t been quiet since we left.” Clay’s hand was on his head, and his eyes were closed in misery. “It’s worse than the siren.”

“As long as you promise,” Jules reiterated.

“I promise, Ju Ju. I ain’t dying. It’s gonna take more than this.”

That helped even more, and Jules took the first clear breath since her father’s reaction to Wyatt on the floor had terrified her. “He’ll be okay. That means I’ll be okay.”

“Twins are weird.” Clay grunted, sounding truly mystified.

“Boy, you got not idea.” Her father sighed. “I still ain’t figured the two of them out.”

* * *

The doctors said later that it was a real special trick for Clay and Wyatt to give each other matching concussions that were serious enough to earn them both an extended stay at Mercy General’s pediatric ward.

Wyatt was sort of thankful for the head injury, because if not, his father would’ve surely shot him for putting Clay Powers in the hospital for four days. As it was, all his father could do was throw up his hands in defeat and keep his head low every time he walked by the nurses’ station.

He was so embarrassed and angry he threatened to take Wyatt out of all his classes and force him to spend his spare time mopping up the sheriff’s office. By some miracle, Wyatt had a Jules moment and suggested that instead of taking him out of classes, which he’d need if he was going be sheriff one day, he ought to just put Clay in the classes so they could fight on padding.

After all, it wasn’t their fists that caused the serious injuries—it was the concrete.

His father told him if he hit Clay again, he’d be grounded until his wedding day.

Wyatt didn’t see what the big deal was. It seemed like a sporting injury to him, and his father didn’t lose his marbles when Wyatt broke his arm in judo. Jules had dislocated her shoulder in karate two months ago, and she got a new video game console for her room.

Wyatt already decided the fight didn’t count. Fights with friends were okay. He fought with his friends all the time in boxing and karate.

“Are ya ever gonna accept my apology?” Wyatt asked, giving Clay a look across the breakfast table. “It’s been five days.”

Clay shrugged, looking unconcerned with the time that passed as he ate his second serving of eggs. Wyatt didn’t know how Clay could eat like that while still recovering. Wyatt’s head still had him feeling queasy even after the hospital discharged them last night. Clay had a more severe concussion than Wyatt, and he was eating like they were going to run out of food.

“You want more?” Wyatt asked curiously, while having the off thought he probably ought to stop Clay before he got legitimately sick.

Clay didn’t respond, but he did stand up and walk back to the stove. He dished himself up a third serving of eggs Henry had fixed for them because his father had been busier than usual dealing with the fallout from the fight. The people from the state had stopped by last night, but largely due to Wyatt and Jules’s whining, his father told them Clay could stay there until he healed up.

“You don’t think the state’s really gonna take ya, do you?”

“Yup. Surprised they ain’t dragged me away already.”

Clay was talking. That seemed like a minor improvement since he barely responded to Wyatt’s questions despite the two of them being together nonstop for almost a week. They even got to share a room in the hospital.

“You can’t go. We’re supposed to be buddies.”

“I’d rather go with the state.”

“Nah, that ain’t true.”

Clay gave him a dark look that said in no uncertain terms that it was true, but Wyatt’s theory was if he kept reminding Clay enough times of their new friendship, eventually he would forgive him.

“I said I was sorry ’bout a million times.”

“Whatever.” Clay turned back and sat at the table with a fresh plate of eggs. “I ain’t gonna be your friend. No way.”

“You can’t just take off with the state,” Wyatt argued. “Dad said they could take you to another city and—”

“Sounds good to me.”

“What ‘bout Tabitha?” he couldn’t help but bark, because if Tabitha liked Wyatt half as much as she liked Clay, he’d do anything to stay near her. “You can’t just up and leave her.”

“Tab’s fine.”

Wyatt let out a growl of frustration. His father thought Wyatt’s mouth could make a saint violent, but he hadn’t spent a week hanging around Clay Powers day and night. He was not an easy kid to be best buddies with. “You’re an asshole.”

Clay’s head shot up, and it was obvious he heard some sort of violence in Wyatt’s tone. “You gonna start hitting me again?”

“No, but she deserves a better fella than you.”

Clay’s eyes narrowed at Wyatt. “I ain’t her fella.”

“You sure act like you’re her fella. I saw you hugging,” Wyatt couldn’t help but grumble. The headache that wouldn’t end was making him grouchy. “She’s sweet on you.”

Then the most amazing thing happened; Clay Powers laughed. A hard, genuine laugh that seemed so strange coming from the somber, intense kid Wyatt had grown accustomed to over the past few days.

“What, Conner? You want her to be sweet on you instead?”

Wyatt shrugged. “Maybe.”

Clay stopped laughing. He looked shocked at the admission.

“Maybe you could help me out,” Wyatt mused thoughtfully when Clay didn’t have a response. “Tell her something good ’bout me.”

“Why would I do that?” He was looking at Wyatt like he’d grown two heads. “I hate you.”

“Naw, we’re best buddies,” Wyatt reminded him. “We’re supposed to help each other out and tell each other things. I told you a secret. Tell me one.”

“No.”

“You ain’t exactly easy to be best buddies with, Powers.”

“That’s ’cause I ain’t your buddy.”

“Sure you are,” Wyatt said confidently. “Now are you gonna tell Tabitha something good ’bout me or what?”

Clay was focused on his eggs rather than Wyatt’s romantic crises. Wyatt didn’t think Clay understood the gravity of the situation.

“I’m serious, Powers. I got to go steady with that girl.”

“Forget it.” Clay finally huffed, as if willing to do anything to shut Wyatt up. “Her mama would never let her hang out with a piglet.”

“She would if you helped me out,” Wyatt pressed before he added, “I mean, that ain’t the reason we’re buddies, but I got to find a way to get her to like me, and you’re the best one to help.”

Clay rolled his eyes, looking disgusted by the entire topic.

“What?” Wyatt questioned self-consciously.

“Nothing.” Clay grunted as he went back to eating, the air of sadness around him nearly choking the air out of the room.

“No, tell me. What?”

Clay lifted his gaze to Wyatt and seemed hesitant before he shrugged. “I’m pretty sure she already likes you.”

“Really?” Wyatt grinned triumphantly, but then he really took a moment to notice how miserable Clay seemed, and he couldn’t help but try to reach out to his friend. “Hey, I know you’re down because of your mama, but I ain’t got one either. That’s why we’re good buddies.”

Clay sighed tiredly and reminded Wyatt for what had to be the millionth time. “We’re not buddies.”

Wyatt knew with absolute conviction Clay didn’t mean it. They didn’t suffer through two very painful concussions together to walk the other way once they’d healed up. Those were battle wounds. It was like surviving a war together. Wyatt just chose to forget they’d been on opposing sides. He knew Clay was supposed to be his best friend. It felt like destiny.

Just like he knew he was supposed to grow up, be sheriff, and marry Tabitha McMillen.

Part Four

The Vigilante

A pit bull is like a fighter. Every so often it needs to taste blood.

—Barry McGuigan

Chapter Eleven

September 1992

Tabitha missed riding the bus with Clay.

Even after he got stuck in the foster system, he still bused to school. Probably because most of his foster families didn’t want to spend any more time with him than they had to. Now the start of ninth grade had him in one of those in-between stages where no one wanted him, and he was back living with the Conners.

So Tabitha was riding the bus alone because the sheriff always dropped the twins off before school, and Clay along with them. The last time he was with the Conners, it took them months to find him a new place to stay, so it looked like Tabitha was going to be busing alone for her first many weeks of high school.

How very unfortunate.

She sat in the back, reading her book and avoiding making eye contact because she’d never learned how to make friends. She was still upbeat because Brett started getting rides to school now that Vaughn had somehow gotten a beaten-up older-model car. Not having him on the bus bullying her when he got bored was very refreshing.

Only the first streaks of pink were starting to stretch across the sky, but the bus was nearly full because the buses started on the bad side of town earliest and worked their way to the few spoiled rich kids whose parents were somehow too busy to drive them in the morning.

She didn’t bother to look up when it stopped, so she was surprised when Terry Dower was suddenly standing over her.

“Can I sit?”

Tabitha blinked in surprise at the older boy, but grabbed her backpack and slid over anyway. “I thought you had a car.”

“My parents sold it.”

“Oh.” Tabitha shoved her old backpack down to the ground as Terry sat. “I guess that sucks.”

“It does,” he agreed and let his head fall back against the headrest. His eyes were closed as if he were hiding from life.

Tabitha studied him, surprised by any number of things, not the least of which was Terry riding the bus. His family was one of the richest in Garnet. He had been driving around in a very nice Honda Prelude, and she couldn’t possibly imagine what happened to make his parents sell it.

“Is Maple’s not doing good?” she asked curiously.

“It’s the only grocery store in town. Can’t do anything but good.”

Tabitha noticed she wasn’t the only one amazed by Terry being there. Everyone was looking back to the two of them, whispering under their breath in scandalized shock.

She wanted to ask why, but she didn’t. Terry looked miserable, so she just picked her book back up and started reading. She was good at giving people the space they needed.

They were five minutes closer to school before Terry asked, “Do you and Conner got something going on the side?”

Tabitha made a choked sound of shock. “Excuse me?”

Terry shrugged, a blush staining his cheeks despite his tan still left over from summer. He ran a hand through his dark hair and seemed to be choosing his words. Then he leaned in and spoke in a low voice only Tabitha can hear. “I notice he’s always hanging out with you, but you ain’t going out with him. I was just wondering if y’all were sneaking round or something.”

“No,” she said a little too quickly. “He’s Clay’s best friend. They train all the time together for the circuit, and Clay’s my friend, so—”

“No, I see him looking at you.” Terry gave her a sharp, penetrating glare. “And I see you looking at him too.”

Tabitha rubbed her fingers against her palm, feeling the smooth scarred skin as a reminder. “I don’t like Wyatt Conner.”

“But what if you did? How would you ever be able to date him? You know his daddy wouldn’t put up with him going out with a McMillen any more than your family would want you hanging round the sheriff’s son.”

Tabitha could only gape at him. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“I just—” he started and then looked away as if trying to find some sort of courage she didn’t understand. Then he turned back to her, his shoulders tense with determination. “If you ever wanted to date Conner, I could help you out.”

Tabitha didn’t want to date Wyatt.

At least that was what she told herself as she felt the scars on her hand once more, but she couldn’t help but ask, “Why would you want to do that?”

“We could help each other out.” His dark eyes were still bright with resolve. “You’re different than the folks round here. You’re always writing and reading. Like an artist. Aren’t artists supposed to be different than other folks? More understanding.”

Tabitha leaned into Terry and confessed, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking ’bout.”

“Forget it.” Terry huffed and fell back against the seat. “It was a dumb idea anyway.”

“I don’t even know what the idea is.” Tabitha’s mind was still reeling. This conversation was like trying to put together pieces of a puzzle, and she knew she was missing key facts. “Is this because of your car?”

“Fuck my car,” he growled. “And fuck my mother. I don’t need it.”

Tabitha fell back against the seat and looked ahead, still trying to understand what she was missing. This whole situation was beyond odd. She and Terry weren’t even very good friends. He was two years older than her, and until now he’d been one of those older high school boys she saw in passing but didn’t talk to very often. He was nice, he was handsome, but he was also rich and had very little reason to associate with her.

“When have you been watching me and Wyatt?”

Terry wasn’t very sports minded, so he wouldn’t have been likely to see them at the rec center. True, they ran into each other around town, but to say they hung in different circles was an understatement. The only other place she saw him was at Maple’s, where she would often do shopping for her mother. Sometimes Wyatt and Clay were with her, but not always.

Then something occurred to her, and she turned and asked, “Are we that obvious?”

He gave her a look as a disbelieving laugh burst out of him. “Wyatt’s been hounding you since elementary school. Everyone knows it.”

“It hasn’t been that long.” She felt her cheeks get hot. “Just ’cause we talk don’t mean—”

“Look, I don’t care who you wanna date.” Terry cut her off with another long look. “Not like I got any place to be giving people hell on impossible relationships. I just thought I’d help you out if you wanted to make your move.”

“Make my move?”

“Wyatt Conner ain’t exactly hard on the eyes,” Terry said in a low voice. “He walked onto the varsity football team this year as a freshman. He’s won a million karate trophies, and he’s got that confident stride like his daddy. He talks, and people listen. Every cheerleader in this school is gonna be crawling all over him now that he’s in high school.”

Tabitha’s shoulders slumped, because she couldn’t deny the white-hot rush of jealousy that surged through her at the thought. How could she compete with all those pretty and pressed girls Garnet churned out so easily?

Now that they were in high school, Wyatt was finally going to get himself a real girlfriend. Tabitha tried to tell herself it was a good thing, because Wyatt hadn’t dated in middle school. He focused on sports and pestering her…relentlessly.

She understood why Clay gave in and just started calling Wyatt his friend. He was a hard fella to say no to, but she knew falling for him was a bad idea for all the reasons Terry had stated. More so, she had gotten over her childish hero worship of Wyatt Conner.

While she wished she hadn’t rashly burned her stories, especially when she saw the lengths he’d gone to make up with Clay after that fight, she was glad for the sharp wake-up call that Wyatt was just as normal as anyone else. He bled the same and made the same dumb mistakes as other boys did. He was bold and cocky, a total show-off, and sometimes he said the dumbest things she’d ever heard in her life, but she was still inexplicably drawn to him.

Wyatt just had less fear than other boys, and it made him captivating. That was what had everyone, even Tabitha, staring at him when he thought they weren’t looking. He was always competing in some hazardous sport that left him more than a little bruised, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Tabitha was fairly certain he loved it. She watched him practice with Clay after classes. The meaner Clay got, the happier Wyatt was, and Clay was capable of being terribly mean. That was what made Wyatt seem bigger than life, that wild fearlessness that had him facing down anything dangerous with a grin on his face.

He was taller than other boys—well over six feet since the start of eighth grade. More than that, it seemed out of the blue his arms had gotten big and muscley. His chest was thick and cut. His shoulders broad. He was as tall as Clay now, who had always had a few inches on him.

“God,” she mumbled under her breath when she saw where her thoughts were heading. She actually turned her palm up, staring at the scars for a more solid reminder as she said solemnly, “I do not like Wyatt Conner.”

“Why the heck not?” Terry countered, and Tabitha turned to see him arching an eyebrow at her. When she didn’t have a response to the odd question, he leaned down and looked at her open palm. “What happened to your hands?”

“I hurt myself when I was eleven.”

“How?”

Tabitha looked down to her hand, thinking of the million different answers to the question, and finally settled on, “I was burning my dreams. It left a mark. A reminder.”

“Okay,” Terry said slowly. “You’re definitely weird, Tabitha.”

Tabitha nodded and whispered quietly, “I know.”

“We should be friends,” Terry surprised her by saying. “I think it’s in the unspoken book of rules.”

Tabitha turned to him and came to a startling realization she hadn’t noticed behind Terry’s wealth and good looks that had made him popular by default. “You’re weird too.”

“I’m weirder than you, darlin’.” Terry stood because the bus had come to a stop in front of the high school. “If Garnet were a movie, we’d be the two most intriguing supporting characters.”

Tabitha grabbed her bag and followed after him like a freshman puppy, feeling a strange bolt of excitement at finally finding someone who understood her.

“Who’d be the main characters?” she asked curiously, enjoying Terry’s riddles.

Terry sent her a grin as he stepped off the bus. “Two guesses.”

Tabitha jumped down after him, following his gaze to see Jules Conner crawling from the front seat of the sheriff’s jeep.

“Bye, Daddy.”

Jules’s voice carried all the way across the parking lot, but that wasn’t what held her attention. Tabitha just gaped as Wyatt and Clay slid out from the back. With the two boys standing shoulder to shoulder, she took a moment to really notice how big they’d both gotten. How powerful and intimidating. They were freshmen too, but there was no sign of the nervousness Tabitha had been dealing with for weeks now.

Who the heck would give either of them a bad time? They were taller than most seniors and black belts to boot.

“Oh my God,” Tabitha mumbled, having this very strange moment when she realized Wyatt might not be a real hero, but he certainly had the résumé of one.

“Tab!” Wyatt called out when he spotted her standing there dumbstruck next to Terry Dower.

Tabitha waved back, unable to help smiling in relief. She felt decidedly lighter knowing she was going to walk into the halls of Garnet high school for the first time next to Wyatt and Clay. More than being her only real friends, they were also a shield—the perfect protectors from anything terrible life could throw at her.

She sighed and found herself admitting out loud to her new friend, “I’m in so much trouble, Terry.”

“That ain’t a lie.” Terry patted her shoulder and left her standing there waiting for Wyatt. “You let me know when you need help with that problem.”

Tabitha knew heroes weren’t real. She’d learned that when she was eleven. She was almost certain it was nothing but a childish illusion.

Almost.

Chapter Twelve

“This year is my year. I’m gonna get Tabitha to go out with me.”

“You say that every year.” Clay grunted from his spot on the mat next to Wyatt. The two of them were still breathing hard from wrestling as they lay there looking at the ceiling lights in the rec center. “You think I got a chance for a spot on the varsity wrestling team?”

“You kicked my ass,” Wyatt told him helpfully. “Badly.”

“Yeah, but you ain’t all that good at wrestling.”

“Hey, buddy, I’m better than most,” Wyatt said with absolute confidence. “Just ’cause I don’t spent four hours a day rolling around working on it don’t mean I suck.”

“It does, actually.”

“I hate wrestling. Can’t stand having someone suffocating me and crawling all over me like that. It’s a horrible sport. Jujitsu ain’t far behind. The only reason I take it is ’cause you do,” Wyatt complained. “You’re getting into your ground game a little too much to be normal. I think you need a girlfriend too.”

“Probably,” Clay said grudgingly. “But I can’t even get a family to keep me for more than two months. You think I’m gonna find a girl to put up with me? Wrestling works off frustration.”

“That ain’t a lie,” Wyatt had to reluctantly agree. “No wonder I’m always stuck at the rec center with you. I’m way better at this sport than I wanna be.”

“Try out for the wrestling team.”

“Won’t have time for wrestling. The season’s gonna bleed into football for sure.”

“You don’t know that. They sucked last year. That season ended pretty fucking fast.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t on the team last year. I’m gonna make damn sure we go to the championships if I have to take down every quarterback in this state.”

Clay snorted. “That’s probably true.”

Wyatt turned his head and gave Clay a cocky grin. “You wait and see. I’m gonna annihilate the other teams. It’s gonna be bloody.”

“What makes you think I’m gonna spend my Friday nights watching you strut round that football field?”

“What the heck else have you got to do?”

“Sit in my room jerking off.”

Wyatt let out a loud bark of laughter. “That’s the reason you can’t get a family to keep ya more than five minutes. You just say whatever rude shit comes to mind.”

“Yeah, like you’re better.”

“At least I know how to say please and thank you at the dinner table.”

Clay’s amusement turned to obvious annoyance as he scowled. “Get off my back, Wyatt.”

“I’m trying to help you. Maybe if you were more polite—”

“Fuck off.”

“Look, buddy, you’re six-three and growing. You tip the scales at two-ten. You can’t be built like that and scowling at anyone who looks in your direction. Trust me, I know what I’m talking ’bout here. Guys built like us got to know how to smile a little. It puts people at ease.”

“You be a clown. I ain’t playing.”

Wyatt covered his eyes and groaned. This shouldn’t be that hard for Clay to understand, but it was. “Why can’t you listen to me and play along? We’re running out of families in Garnet willing to take ya.”

“So fuck Garnet.”

Wyatt’s chest constricted with fear. Clay wasn’t just his friend. He’d become something close to a brother. After living with Jules for the first fourteen years of his life, Wyatt didn’t think he could recover from losing Clay to another town just because he didn’t know how to smile.

“We gotta teach you how to be polite,” Wyatt told him desperately. “You’re my best friend and—”

Clay rolled away from him and made a move to stand. “I ain’t listening to this shit again.”

“And Jules would lose her fucking mind if they yanked you out of Garnet,” Wyatt went on pleadingly. Playing the Jules card was easier than admitting his own feelings. “You know how irrational she gets every time moving you comes up. Can you imagine the drama I’d have to put up with? She loves you like a brother. Heck, between the two of us, she’d probably pick to keep you over me, and I’m her twin.”

“I’m leaving now.”

Wyatt just lay there sullenly as Clay walked out of the gym without another word. He blinked at the ceiling, wondering what the hell he was going to do about Clay’s bad attitude. He and Jules tried hanging out at whatever foster home he was living, nudging him to interact a little with the family, but it never worked out. Even having the sheriff’s kids as best friends didn’t change the fact that a grouchy monster of a teenager who’d grown up on the bad side of town wasn’t a top pick in the foster system. Everyone was waiting for him to turn to drugs and crime like his mother.

If only they knew what Wyatt did, that Clay wouldn’t touch that stuff with a ten-foot pole. He’d broken his foot last year in jujitsu, and they couldn’t get him to take a pain pill to save their lives. He barely took ibuprofen. He was totally misjudged, and the injustice of it burned Wyatt to his core.

Clay wasn’t a bad guy—he just acted like one.

Bastard.

Wyatt drummed his fingers against his bare chest, knowing he was long due to get home. He had homework despite it being the first week of school, which seemed like bullshit. Didn’t they know fellas had football practice and karate and a best friend who insisted on extra training time for wrestling before tryouts?

Wyatt got very little sleep the past few days, but it didn’t feel too bad because Jules and Clay were getting up with him at five to finish the last of the work they couldn’t get done the night before. He liked those quiet mornings at the kitchen table with his sister and best friend. It was going to suck when they yanked Clay out of the house again.

It would suck even worse if they planted him halfway across the state.

“What’s wrong with Clay? I ran into him in the hallway, and he was growly over something.”

Wyatt craned his neck, looking to the door, spying Tabitha standing there with her book bag over her shoulder. He smiled. Seeing her had him forgetting his melancholy.

“Hey, pretty girl, come keep me company.”

Even from a distance, Wyatt could see Tabitha roll her eyes. “Almost everyone’s gone home but you two. It’s almost nine. Is your daddy picking you up?”

“Nah, he works late tonight. We rode our bikes. How you getting home?”

“Same.”

“Ain’t really safe to be riding that far this late, Tab.”

“Safer than being at home.”

“What’s that?” Wyatt scowled, hoping he heard her wrong.

Tabitha shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Okay.” Wyatt sighed in defeat because he was already fighting with Clay. He didn’t want to start something with Tabitha too. “So where have you been tonight? I haven’t seen you since the pizza Coach Jasper ordered at five.”

Tabitha stood at the edge of the mat, looking down at him with that hot look in her eyes that always made the back of Wyatt’s neck feel warm and his stomach jolt.

Her voice was soft as she said, “I was just in the teen lounge finishing things up. Might as well make good use of it since they let me hang out here for free.”

“You can come closer. I don’t bite.” Wyatt crossed his hands behind his head, still looking at Tabitha expectantly. He waggled his eyebrows. “Unless you want me to.”

“You’re so silly sometimes.” Tabitha walked over to him despite the teasing. She tossed her bag onto the mat and sat cross-legged next to him. “So what’re you hiding from tonight?”

“Nothing. Just practicing. Clay’s gonna make a go for the wrestling team. I set a bad example with football. He thinks any freshman can just walk on to varsity.”

“Is that it?” Tabitha asked dubiously.

“Yeah, he’s jealous.”

“Sure, he is.” Tabitha let out a little laugh. “So what’d you say to piss him off this time?”

“Something along the lines of needing him to learn to smile so I don’t lose my best friend. What am I gonna do if they send him away? No best friend and no girl.” Wyatt looked up at her pointedly. “That’s no way to start high school.”

“You could get a girl, Wy.” Tabitha’s gaze drifted to his bare chest, the dreamy sound to her voice taking on a sad note as she said, “You could probably get a whole collection of ’em.”

“Not the one I want.”

Wyatt studied Tabitha, who’d braided her hair into one thick red rope away from her face. Her freckles were more pronounced from summer, her brown eyes soft and soulful as she continued to look down at him thoughtfully after his confession that wasn’t anything usual. He’d stopped being casual about his feelings for her a long time ago.

“You look sad. Tell Wyatt what’s wrong.”

She shook her head.

He rolled onto his side and grabbed her hand. Feeling bold, he kissed her open palm, letting his lips linger on the scars there because he noticed she was always rubbing them. “Do your hands hurt you?”

“No.” Tabitha tried to pull her hand out of his grasp, but he held on. Finally she just huffed and left it where it was. “Why do you like me so much, Wyatt?”

“’Cause you’re awesome.”

“I think you’ve hit your head one too many times. How many concussions have you had again? You and Clay trade ’em like baseball cards.”

He laughed. “I liked you before the concussions.”

“Terry says you’re gonna have girls crawling all over you this year. What’d you think about that?”

“I think I don’t like that you’ve been hanging on Terry this whole week. What’s he got that I don’t?”

“Common sense?” Tabitha supplied helpfully. “Why the heck would you wanna go out with me when you can date real girls? Pretty girls.”

“I think you’re pretty, Tabitha,” he told her softly and then kissed her scarred palm once more to prove his point. “If you knew how pretty I thought you were, you wouldn’t be sitting next to me right now. You make me think naughty things.”

Tabitha finally jerked her hand out of his. “Really, Wy, I wanna know why you like me. ’Cause it don’t make a lick of sense.”

“I dunno.” He gave her an incredulous look because he thought it was a given that they were supposed to be together. “It’s an instinct. I’m happier when I’m around you. Haven’t you ever looked at someone and just known they were made for you?”

Tabitha stared hard at him, the crease in her forehead telling him she was really considering the question before she finally nodded and whispered softly, “Yeah, I have.”

“That someone better be me,” he growled, unable to help the flare of jealousy. “’Cause I could take down Terry Dower.”

“You are so stupid.” Tabitha surprised him by laughing. “I don’t like Terry. Not like that. So don’t be thinking of putting him in the hospital. I don’t think his head is as hard as Clay’s.”

“No one’s head is as hard as Clay’s.” Wyatt crawled up and rested his head on Tabitha’s knee for comfort at the reminder. “Christ, he’s a stubborn bastard.”

Tabitha started stroking his sweaty hair, pushing it away from his forehead. His entire world clicked into place in that one moment, and he closed his eyes in lazy exhaustion.

“Go out with me,” he said when Tabitha’s touch lured him into a false sense of security.

“No.”

“Kiss me.”

“No.”

“At least admit you love me.”

“Definitely no. My mama’s been doing good. She’s got a job and everything, but she’s so dang paranoid ’bout the state grabbing us, especially since Brett’s been getting into trouble. If I started going out with a Conner, she’d turn back to the bottle for sure.”

Wyatt blinked up at Tabitha, seeing the crease was back in her forehead as she looked down at him. “I’ll be a famous boxer instead of a sheriff. How ’bout that?”

She gave him a sad smile and whispered, “No.”

“You’re worse than Clay.” He let his eyes drift close again because he was very happy where he was even if Tabitha was being difficult. “Your mama knows we’re friends. So what’s the difference?”

“No, she doesn’t.” Tabitha laughed in disbelief.

“She’s gotta know you’ve been hanging round me for years. What does she think you’re doing at the rec center every day after school?”

“My homework.”

“Well, I suppose that ain’t a lie.” He rolled on his side and pressed his lips against the curve of her knee that was exposed where her skirt had ridden up. “I can think of some homework you can work on.”

Tabitha shoved his head in response, and he landed on the mat with a grunt. He would have complained if it didn’t make Tabitha giggle. He started laughing with her.

“You’re bad on my delicate male ego.”

Tabitha laughed harder. “You got the biggest ego in this whole dang town.”

“Take that back, little girl.” Wyatt grabbed her foot when she moved to stand up. She screeched and shook her leg, but he wasn’t letting go. He jerked her toward him, forcing her skirt to ride up, and then used his weight to pin her to the mat. “Say sorry, or I’m gonna turn into the big, bad wolf.”

“As if.” Tabitha was still laughing hysterically and didn’t even fight his hold on her wrists as he held her down. “You’re not bad wolf material.”

“Who lied to you?” Wyatt snorted as he studied her cheeks, flushed pink with her mirth, and the way the strawberry lip gloss she always used made her lips look very kissable. “You make me feel very bad. Kiss me.”

“No.”

Wyatt leaned down despite the rejection, and Tabitha turned her head petulantly, still giggling.

He growled in genuine disappointment. “One of these days I’m gonna do it, and I ain’t even gonna give you the courtesy of asking first.”

“Let me up, Wy. You’re getting yourself into trouble again.” Tabitha pulled halfheartedly at his hold on her wrists. “I have to get home.”

Wyatt huffed and rolled off her because he was getting himself into trouble. Tabitha got to her feet and brushed out her skirt that was long and had little pink flowers on it. Her white blouse was conservative, but Wyatt could still see the outline of her bra under it as she worked on straightening it.

He laced his hands behind his head once more as he watched her. “You really are hard on my ego.”

“You’re okay.” Tabitha gave him a shy smile. “You can follow me halfway home if you want.”

“All right then.” Wyatt was pleased to hear it, because he hated the idea of her riding all that way alone in the dark. He rolled back and sprang to his feet. “That sounds like a fair deal.”

Tabitha laughed again.

Wyatt frowned. “What?”

She shook her head, still smiling in that warm way she did when something pleased her so much she couldn’t hide it. “Nothing.”

“No, tell me,” he prodded, because he loved those particular smiles from Tabitha, and he wanted to know what he did to cause it.

“It’s just—” she started, looking at him under her lashes when she lowered her eyes shyly. “You’re one of the good guys. I don’t see how you can deny it.”

“Great.” Wyatt rolled his shoulders that were sore from wrestling. “Girls only like the bad guys.”

“Not all girls.” Tabitha gave him another smile. “Thank God you won’t kiss me without permission. We’d both be in big trouble if you did.”

Wyatt could only gape at her.

Tabitha turned to leave without another word, sort of like Clay usually did.

“I need to get my stuff out of the locker room,” he said distantly.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Wyatt nodded as he followed her down the hallway. His mind was still on what Tabitha had admitted, probably without realizing she’d done it. Her cheeks were still flushed, and it was obvious their little wrestling session had left her as flustered as he felt.

He left her standing outside the men’s locker room and quickly went to his locker. Clay was getting dressed in front of the locker next to it, and he frowned when Wyatt tugged his shirt on despite being sweaty.

“You ain’t taking a shower first?”

“No, I’m riding back with Tabitha since it’s dark.” Wyatt sat on the bench and worked on putting on his socks and shoes. “I’ll take a shower at home.”

“I’ll ride with ya.”

Wyatt shook his head and lifted his head to give Clay a pointed look. “Nah, I got this. I’m gonna make it my year. Watch me.”

“Whatever, Conner.” Clay rolled his eyes and turned back to his locker. “I don’t see how you’re gonna manage that when she’s been shooting you down since seventh grade.”

“No, I got a plan,” Wyatt told him confidently.

“What’s that?”

He lifted his head and gave his best friend a dark smile. “I’m gonna be the big bad wolf.”

“Yeah, right.” Clay laughed at the notion, clearly unconcerned for Tabitha’s virtue. “Lemme know how that works out for you. Make sure to say please and thank you first.”

* * *

Tabitha would never tell him, but she liked when Wyatt followed her home. She enjoyed his company, and it never stopped being a novelty how safe he made her feel. Being with him was like a reprieve from real life, where she was forced to be on guard all the time.

Becoming a teenager made everything about her life so much more complicated. She wished she could go back to being hungry. It was preferable over the nervous feeling that settled in her stomach every time she was home. Brett’s friends said the most awful things to her, and her mother’s friends weren’t much better. There were always people at her house, drinking and partying. Her mother was doing better now that she had a job, but the weekends were always a weakness for her.

This Friday was payday at John’s butcher shop, where her mom had been working for the past five months.

Tabitha wasn’t looking forward to it. Her uncles would come over with their friends and make a bad situation worse. None of them seemed to mind partying with Brett’s friends even though Brett was only sixteen. They would all drink and do God knew what else until they passed out in the early-morning hours. The house was always loud and smoky, and all Tabitha could do to avoid it was lock herself in her room and wait for all of them to pass out. The next morning she would trip over the sleeping bodies trying to get out the door and to the rec center, where Wyatt was waiting to make her feel safe again, even if he didn’t realize he was doing it.

Against her better judgment, Tabitha had started believing in heroes again.

“Here is good.” Tabitha hopped off her bike at the intersection between the main road and the one that led down the street to her house. “I’ll just ride the rest of the way by myself.”

“I don’t care what your house looks like, Tab,” Wyatt said as he rode up next to her and put his foot down. He leaned his arms against his handlebars. “I remember when we first drove out to the trailer park to get Clay’s stuff. He wouldn’t even let me go in and help him gather it all up. Like it mattered to me. Best buddies don’t give a shit ’bout things like that.”

Tabitha laughed and let her bike fall into the dirt. She pulled her backpack off and dropped it on top of it because she wanted a few more minutes with him. “I know. It’s not that. I promise.”

“It’s still a pretty long ride back to your house.” Wyatt gave her a stern look. “Lemme go with you.”

She shook her head and gave him a smile. “Nope.”

Wyatt stepped off his bike and let it fall next to hers despite the fact that it was new and had a perfectly good kickstand. Then he stepped into her personal space, making her feel even shorter than usual, because he was so very tall now. She instinctively rubbed her scarred palm, because being so near him made her feel breathless.

“Why are you always doing that?” Wyatt reached down and grabbed her hand like he had in the gym. “Whenever I get close, you start rubbing your hands, and I noticed you don’t do it when Clay or others are next to you. Is there something ’bout these scars that make you think of me?”

Tabitha looked away rather than pull her hand out of his as she internally cursed his cop breeding that had him noticing everything. Very little slipped past Wyatt, and she didn’t know if it was genetic or something the Conners were trained with since birth. He could break down walls and sniff out weaknesses better than anyone she’d ever met.

He rubbed his thumb against her palm, making her shiver in response. He was quiet for a long moment before he asked, “Are they somehow my fault? I know you got them the same time as my fight with Clay and—”

“They’re not your fault,” she assured him before he could finish the thought, because she didn’t want to think about that fight. “Y’all are friends now, and I’m happy for it.”

“I had to bully Clay into being my friend,” Wyatt reminded her, giving her a long, hard look as he squeezed her hand. “And even now he forgets half the time, but I ain’t gonna give up on him, even on the days when he wants me to.”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard for Clay to trust people. He’s always waiting for them to betray him.”

“Sort of like someone else I know.” Wyatt used his hold on her hand to pull her closer. “I’m not going away, Tabitha, and I’m not giving up.”

“Wyatt—” she started, wanting to tell him all the reasons why he shouldn’t be wasting his time on her. Then he laced his other hand through the hair at her nape and her breath caught with the collision of nerves and excitement. “Don’t—”

“Tell me you don’t like me.” Wyatt lips were a breath away from hers, his light eyes bright in the moonlight as he studied her intently. “Look me in the face and tell me you don’t think ’bout me at night.”

Tabitha opened her mouth, but the words were trapped in her throat. She did think about him, all the time, and lying to that extreme was going to be one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She was still fighting the horrible war with herself when Wyatt used the hold he had on her neck to pull her closer. Then he kissed her, with her mouth still parted in an attempt to tell a lie that was so far opposed to what both her heart and soul were crying out for that it felt like a betrayal to even think about saying it.

The feel of his lips against hers was electric. The jolt of it reminded her of the time she shocked herself trying to plug the vacuum cleaner into the broken socket in her mother’s bedroom. She actually shuddered from the sensation. It was so startling, her hands went to Wyatt’s shoulders for support, but he misunderstood the action as one of trying to shove him away. Usually that would’ve had him backing up, but this time he just tightened his hold on her neck.

He pushed his tongue past her lips without permission, but Tabitha didn’t complain.

In that moment it felt like nothing in the world existed but the two of them. It was as if time came to a standstill, and the world stopped spinning, and all she had was Wyatt. His lips were hot on hers, and his tongue was brushing against her tongue, and she wanted so much more of all it she stood on her toes to get closer. She put her arms around his neck and opened her mouth farther in invitation because it felt so amazingly good she had to ask for more.

It wasn’t until she swallowed Wyatt’s low groan and felt his hand sneak around her back that Tabitha realized she was kissing him back. She didn’t have time to stop and wonder if she was doing it right, or if he was doing it right, because he forced her body tightly against his, and it shut down her brain completely. She was wrapped up in him, warm and safe and burning up from the strange buzz a simple kiss was able to create. Her fingers were in his hair, and she held on for fear he would pull away and rob her of the amazing sensations she was willingly drowning herself in.

Her heart was thumping so hard she could hear it echoing in her ears. Her breathing was sharp and erratic when they parted for one brief second, only to come together harder and needier when Wyatt pushed his lips against hers again as if he needed it as desperately as she did.

She was just having the thought of pulling him down onto the dirt right there on the edge of the street, because her legs didn’t want to hold her up, and every second they kissed had her strangely hungry to feel more of him.

Then the loud, jarring sound of a horn blaring had both of them jumping from the shock of falling back into reality without warning.

“Slut!”

Wyatt stiffened at the same time Tabitha’s stomach dropped with the icy surge of fear that spiraled through her system. The abrupt change from joy to fear was so startling she nearly blacked out from it.

She turned around, looking at Vaughn leaning out his window. His eyes were narrowed in malicious fury. “Now you’re giving it up when you’ve been locking your door on me for the past year?”

Wyatt turned around, and Tabitha could feel that his entire body was tight in fury. “What did you just say to her?” he growled in a voice that was so dangerous it startled her.

“Wyatt, don’t!” she said quickly and grabbed at his arm when he made a move toward the car. “Please.”

“Shit, it’s the sheriff’s kid!” she heard Brett say in the seat next to Vaughn before he held up his hands and gave her a look of complete disbelief out the front windshield.

Wyatt jerked his arm out of her hold and walked over to the car. He slammed his fist against the hood so hard they all jumped when the metal dented. “Call her a slut again. I dare you.”

“Drive!” Brett barked when Wyatt made a move toward the open window.

Vaughn slammed on the gas so hard, Tabitha screamed because they nearly ran Wyatt over. If he didn’t have such quick reflexes, he would’ve gotten hurt for sure. As it was, he jumped away and shouted, “Yeah, you better drive!”

“Oh my God,” Tabitha whispered as she stood there hyperventilating and choking on the dust from skidding tires. “This is bad.”

Wyatt turned on her with a wild, crazed look on his face. “Has that asshole been harassing you? Has he hurt you?”

She shook her frantically. “No.”

Wyatt narrowed his eyes. “Tab—”

“He hasn’t, I swear,” she said quickly before she went to her bike. Her hands were shaking as she picked up her backpack and put it on. “I have to go home. He’s gonna tell my mama and—”

“You are not going home.”

“What?” Tabitha turned back to him when she heard the hard determination in his voice. “I have to. I have to stop Brett from saying something.”

“Heck, no.” Wyatt’s shoulders were still tight in fury, his light eyes blazing. “You are coming home with me. We’re gonna sit down and talk with my dad, and you’re gonna tell him everything that goes on in that house.”

“Are you insane?” A crazed sort of laughter burst out of her. “The state would pick me up for sure.”

“That’s the thing, Tab. The state isn’t the enemy,” Wyatt said slowly. “They’re there to protect you. I know you’re not safe there, and I’m not gonna—”

“No,” Tabitha said, this time more firmly. “I am not bouncing around foster homes like Clay. My mama’s doing good and—”

“She ain’t doing that good. I saw her walking into Carl’s bar the other day.”

“That’s only on weekends!” Tabitha’s voice was shrill with fear. “She has a job now and—”

“Tabitha,” Wyatt started again, this time more slowly as he took a deep breath. “If you got guys there you have to lock your door to keep out, that’s not good. What’s to stop them from—”

“I’m not going home with you,” Tabitha said just as forcefully. “And if you tell your daddy, I will never speak to you again.”

Wyatt folded his arms over his chest as he considered her sharply. Then he shrugged. “That may be a sacrifice I’m willing to make. ’Cause I surely ain’t gonna sit back and let something terrible happen to you. I’d rather you hate me.”

“Then fine.” Tabitha got on her bike before she could change her mind. “I can’t stop you, but I will deny all of it. I ain’t letting the state ruin my mama.”

Wyatt called out to her when she started riding away. “At least let me hang out until he leaves. Please. I won’t cause trouble.”

“No. I can take care of myself.” She blinked past the tears as she pedaled harder. She had to shout to make sure he heard her. “Just stay away from me!”

She turned back, making sure Wyatt wasn’t following her, and saw him standing where she’d left him with his arms folded over his chest. In that moment, he looked like his daddy, tall and imposing, expecting the world to bow to his will with just a look of disappointment.

Dear God, what had she been thinking?

Chapter Thirteen

Wyatt watched Tabitha ride off, and everything in him demanded he go after her. Yet he stood rooted to the spot instead. He knew if he did chase her down, he’d have to drag her kicking and screaming to his father, and that would make the effort pointless. She wouldn’t talk about what went on in that beaten-down house next to the trailer park, and he couldn’t make her.

Not for the first time, he thought of saying something to his father without Tabitha’s permission, to voice his suspicions that her brother hurt her, because sometimes she had bruises Wyatt was almost certain were caused by abuse. He didn’t spend all his spare time fighting Clay for nothing. He knew what marks caused by fists looked like.

But then what?

If his father couldn’t find anything to take her out of the house and she wasn’t willing to say anything, that would just make things worse for her. He’d heard his father bitch enough times about situations like that to know how tied a cop’s hands could be if a victim wasn’t willing to cooperate.

You couldn’t save people who didn’t want to be saved. His father said it all the time, and for the first time Wyatt truly understood his frustration.

He stood there for a long time after Tabitha disappeared. The fear for her was so all-encompassing, he was choking on it, and the horror of being powerless was nearly killing him.

But he didn’t do anything.

Finally he got on his bike and rode back home, deciding to talk with Clay instead of his father. Clay knew more about Tabitha’s situation than he let on. Wyatt had known it for years, but when he asked, Clay would just give him a hard look and keep silent. Not this time. He was going to make his best friend talk if he had to beat him to get it out.

* * *

Tabitha had to stop and look at Vaughn’s car in the driveway. The fear made her vision spotted, but she knew she had to go into the house even if a part of her wanted to run back and take Wyatt up on his offer rather than deal with what she was about to face.

Her mother wasn’t home yet. That was both a blessing and a curse.

In the end, the decision was made for her when Brett jerked open the front door and demanded, “Get in this house right now, brat.”

Tabitha actually turned and looked down the road, thinking of Wyatt again. Everything in her wanted to flee.

As if reading her thoughts, Brett yelled, “Now!”

With her heart still beating hard, Tabitha hiked her backpack higher up on her shoulders and walked toward the steps of the house. Her body was tense with adrenaline, the way she imagined warriors were before battle.

A part of her tried to remember everything about this feeling, like marching to her own execution, so that in case she survived, she could write about it later. The front step creaked under her sneakers. She had the thought of it breaking and a black hole opening up beneath it.

Down the rabbit hole, just like in Alice in Wonderland.

Maybe there was another Garnet down there where superheroes were real. An alternate reality. What if there were some sort of experiment that went horribly wrong, and the water supply was poisoned, but only on the nice side of town where the good guys lived? When bad things happened to people like that, they always seemed to come out on top.

Like Wyatt.

And Clay.

And Jules Conner.

What if that poisoned water made them more than human? What sorts of superpowers would they have? Would they fly? No, Tabitha couldn’t see any of them flying, but Clay would have to be superstrong, because he worked so hard at it. Tabitha would have to make sure Clay had the gift of invisibility too, because there were so many times when she knew he wanted people to stop seeing him.

Jules was so smart and so quick when she was in her karate classes. What if it made her really fast? What if her brain worked better than others? That’d be interesting, but that superpower would drive Wyatt crazy. His sister was already a know-it-all.

Tabitha would have to give Wyatt the best superpower of all to make it up to him. Tabitha knew it instinctively; she wanted him to be the quickest and the strongest, because he was her hero, even if she deflected him at every turn.

What if that water didn’t just make him strong like Clay and fast like Jules, but somehow made him invincible? Nothing could hurt him. He would be safe forever.

By the time Tabitha made it to the door, she was already lost in her wonder world. The weird defense mechanism kicked in the second she knew she was in a situation beyond her ability to mentally cope with.

When Brett grabbed her arm and tugged her past the entryway, she was half expecting Wyatt to burst in and rescue her, but of course, he didn’t. Heroes weren’t perfect. She’d learned that a long time ago, and they all had weaknesses. What sort of weakness could a man with superstrength and speed who was built like solid steel possibly have?

The door slammed. Brett pushed her into the living room so hard she tripped and hit her head on the sharp corner of the coffee table. The pain was white-hot, and she immediately put her hand to the injury. She pulled it away in shock when she felt the warm, sticky blood seep through her fingers.

She looked at the bright red against her scarred palm.

What if she was his weakness? His kryptonite? What if somehow his destiny was tied to a woman who was never more than ordinary and always ended up on her knees bleeding for the villains? What if she was one of the villains? But not by choice; she was just related to them.

“Fuck, Tab!” Brett cursed. “You’re the clumsiest chick in this whole dang town. It’s like you’re not even here most of the time. Now Mama’s gonna think it was my fault!”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, still caught up in her strange world.

“Have you been talking to Conner ’bout us? The sheriff’s been sniffing round here more than usual. Is it ’cause of your big mouth?”

She shook her head as she got to her knees, looking at the fresh stain of blood in the carpet. She would have to clean it before her mother got home.

“Are you fucking him?”

“No.” She looked up at him, forcing her head to clear. “He just rode me home.”

“Yeah, I bet he rode you home. We saw you making out with him.” Vaughn took a long drag off his cigarette as he looked down at her from his seat on the couch. “I know you’re giving it up.”

“I’m not,” Tabitha said, this time more forcefully because giving Vaughn even an inkling of the idea that she was interested in that sort of thing was just asking for problems. “It ain’t like that. He was just being nice.”

“Bullshit.” Vaughn snorted, his voice filled with malicious glee. “You like letting that big, stupid asshole fuck you?”

“No!” Tabitha got to her feet, feeling the violence threatening. “I need to wash up.”

She dropped her backpack and ran into the bathroom. Luckily they let her go. Her hands were shaking as she locked the door and then turned on the faucet. She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing the blood running down into her ear. She leaned in closer, studying the cut, trying to determine if it needed stitches. Not that it mattered. She’d never force her mother to pay for Dr. Philips when they didn’t have insurance.

She poked at it, feeling strangely detached from the throbbing as she listened to the voices in the other room.

“She’s giving it up to the sheriff’s kid. I’ll betcha a hundred bucks.”

“Fuck.” Brett cursed. “My mama is gonna freak out.”

“She probably told him we’ve been dealing.”

“You think?”

“Hell, yes. The sheriff’s been riding our asses for weeks now. He’s stopped us four times since school started,” Vaughn said with a bitter laugh. “You better figure out a way to shut her up, or I’m gonna do it for you.”

“I got it,” Brett said defensively. “She’s my sister.”

Tabitha grabbed toilet paper and held it to her head, willing the bleeding to stop. Her heart was still beating the hell out of her ribs, and she took slow, even breaths to try to still her panic. She tossed the toilet paper in the toilet when it became soaked with blood and unrolled more. She pressed harder, desperate to have this problem solved so she could deal with the larger issue.

When the doorknob started to jiggle, tears filled her eyes as she reduced herself to begging. “Please just leave me alone. I didn’t say anything to him about the drugs.”

“Open the door, Tab.”

“No,” she whispered as she tears rolled down her cheeks. “Just gimme a little bit.”

“We need to talk.”

She scrunched up her eyes, trying to hide from her reality as her mind slipped back to another reality, but this one wasn’t much improved. She imagined a world crumbling under the rule of an evil overlord. There would be a battle between the light and darkness. She felt trapped in the middle, the ultimate Achilles’ heel to the one person who was supposed to save them all from a horrible reality ruled by greed and indulgence.

What if somehow their souls were linked and whenever they connected it drained Wyatt’s power a little more until he was almost human? Every touch, every time she ran her fingers through his silky hair, it just dragged him down into the darkness until it consumed both of them.

Wouldn’t it be tragic for the hero to be in love with the one girl who could ruin him? What if one kiss was the end of the world? One sweet indulgence, a ray of light in her darkness, and all it did was bring on the ruin.

That was what it felt like as the scrap of metal told her Brett was using a knife to unlock the bathroom door. She screeched when it burst open.

“I didn’t tell him,” she chanted in blind panic. “I didn’t!”

“Come here.”

Brett stormed in after her, looking bigger than Wyatt at that moment, even if she knew it wasn’t true. Terrified, she pressed herself back in the small gap in the corner between the wall and the toilet. He grabbed her arm and tried to pull her out from her hiding spot, but she fought him, kicking out, trying to hit him in the balls because that was what Wyatt and Clay told her to aim for. She slashed with her free hand, going for his eyes, another soft spot they had told her about, but she was still trying to stop the bleeding, and eventually she opted to make her body limp and leaden. She slipped out of his grasp and fell into the tiny space next to the toilet, her small frame finally serving well. She kicked every time he got near her.

“I didn’t tell him!” She was screeching it now, kicking with all her might, making him jump back defensively. “Leave me alone!”

“You shut up and stop fighting me, or I’m gonna let Vaughn come in here and do it for me.”

She kicked him again, because she didn’t trust him not to hand her over anyway. “I don’t care ’bout your stupid drugs! I didn’t tell him!”

“Back up, Brett. I’ll get her.”

Tabitha kicked at Brett again, this time getting him between the legs with the heel of her sneaker. He doubled over, groaning in pain just as Vaughn pushed into their small bathroom behind him.

“You kick me like that, and I’ll make sure you pay for it.” Vaughn reached over the side of the toilet, grabbing her arm like a vise and tugging so hard she was afraid he’d pull it right out of the socket. “You’ll feel it for days, you little cunt.”

Tabitha screamed, knowing she should’ve taken Wyatt up on his offer. The foster system was looking pretty good about right now.

Vaughn was going to force her to do something horrible. She just knew it.

After months and months of avoiding Vaughn, now her mother wasn’t home, and there were no superheroes in sight to save her. Usually Brett stopped him before he could do anything, but now he was worried about his drugs and his pocket change, and that made her an easy sacrifice.

She’d done this to herself.

All because of one stupid kiss! Why did she think she could reason with her brother? She really was kryptonite, to herself as much as the rest of the world.

Then the most amazing thing happened; the long grinding sound of her mother’s old truck pulling into the driveway echoed past the cracked window. She opened her mouth to scream, but Brett slammed his hand over her mouth before she could.

“You shut up ’bout this, and I won’t tell her ’bout you and the Conner kid.”

Tabitha’s breathing was heavy. Brett’s hand smelled like cigarettes. She wanted to gag from it, but her eyes remained wide and trained on her brother. She should bite him, but she didn’t. She really didn’t want her mother to find out about Wyatt. That was stress she didn’t need. Brett must have sensed some sort of defeat in her, because he removed his hand, brown eyes meeting brown over the rim of the toilet seat.

“Get him away from me.” Tabitha’s gaze darted to Vaughn, who was still holding her arm. “And keep him away, or I’m telling her, and I don’t care what you say to her ’bout Wyatt.”

“Fine.” Brett’s eyes narrowed. “But if you keep seeing Conner, I’m gonna turn Vaughn loose on you, brat. I ain’t protecting you anymore when all you do to repay me for the effort is talk trash behind my back. Don’t think I won’t do it.”

“I’m not seeing him,” Tabitha reasserted once more. “He was just being nice.”

“Yeah, being nice by shoving his tongue down your throat. Fuck the sheriff’s brat, Tabitha, I dare you,” Vaughn said tauntingly, repeating Wyatt’s words from earlier. “I don’t have a problem with sloppy seconds.”

Tabitha didn’t even know what that meant, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask. Both boys backed up at the sound of car door being opened. Tabitha curled into herself when they quickly rushed into the living room to pretend all was normal. The bathroom door slammed, leaving her alone, and her entire body started shaking in response. She buried her head against her knees and let out one choked sob before she started fighting to keep her crying silent.

She hated being a teenager.

Ever since she’d gotten boobs and hips, the threat of Vaughn had been looming around every corner, and he wasn’t the only one. Lots of her brother’s friends harassed her. The thought occurred to her that maybe she wasn’t as ugly as she once thought she was, and it wasn’t a pleasant realization.

She had to start hiding these things better. She needed baggier clothes. Maybe she should hack off her hair too. Wyatt was always saying how pretty it was. It could be part of the problem. She shakily got to her feet when she heard her mother’s voice from the living room.

She went to the sink and worked at washing herself up. There was blood all over her white blouse. It soaked her hair and was still running down her face and ear. The water turned pink when she tilted her head and put it under the faucet to get it off. She really needed a shower, but she didn’t have a change of clothes in the bathroom.

She jumped at another knock on the door, hitting her head against the faucet. She hissed and cursed under her breath, “Shit.”

“What the heck are you doing in there?” her mother called. “Trying to drown yourself?”

“Sorry, Mama. I need a moment.”

“I got to pee. Been holding it since work.”

Tabitha sighed and turned off the water. She grabbed more toilet paper and held it to her head as she reluctantly opened the door.

Her mother gasped when she saw her. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I tripped.” Tabitha pressed harder on the toilet paper, hoping to soak most of the damning evidence. “It’s nothing.”

“It don’t look like nothing. You’re bleeding like a stuck pig. Look at your shirt.” Her mother frowned and leaned forward to stare at Tabitha’s forehead. “Well, lemme look at it.”

Tabitha removed the toilet paper. Showing off the injury. She studied her mother’s face, seeing her frown in concern.

“Dang it, Tab, I think you need stitches.” Her shoulders slumped in misery. “There goes my paycheck. How do these things always happen to you?”

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Tabitha argued and took another shuddering breath. “We’ll just put a bandage on it.”

“Sheriff’s been sniffing round here. I think that Powers kid’s been talking to him. Can’t believe you still hang out with that trash.”

“Nah, Clay doesn’t say anything to anyone. You know he’s quiet.”

Her mother wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, tugging Tabitha forward rough enough to make her flinch after the event in the bathroom, but she didn’t notice as she pressed a finger to the tender skin above the wound. “Looks like it’s mostly stopped bleeding. Maybe a bandage will do.”

“Yeah,” Tabitha agreed. “Definitely.”

“You been crying?” her mother asked. “You’re all flushed, and what the heck happened to your arm?”

Tabitha looked at her arm, seeing the red marks left by Vaughn’s vise grip from earlier. “Um,” she stuttered and then choked back the rise of fear when Brett coughed from the living room. “B-Brett tried to catch me before I fell.”

“Yeah, he’s a good brother. Always saving you from yourself. Wish you were more like him. Your head’s in the clouds ninety percent of the time. You’re always tripping over something.” Her mother seemed appeased with that as she let Tabitha go. “Let me pee; then I’ll doctor it myself.”

Tabitha couldn’t help but snort in disbelief as the door closed behind her. She narrowed her eyes as she looked over at Brett and Vaughn sitting on the couch, giving her similar looks of challenge as if daring her to say something.

She started cleaning before her mama got out of the bathroom. She held the tissue to her head and worked on the enormous mess in the living room one-handed. Usually she was good about keeping it clean, but she’d been caught up with the start of school and let it get out of control. They’d had a party here last weekend, and no one had bothered to pick up afterward.

Surprisingly, Brett got up and started helping her.

“Is he sending the state out?” Brett asked her under his breath as he grabbed a pizza box off the counter while Tabitha worked on sweeping the cigarette ashes off the coffee table.

She shuddered at the amount of dirt and grime that landed on the carpet. She needed to clean out this wound on her head with something really antiseptic. The carpet was going to need at least five rounds with the vacuum cleaner, and she still needed to get the blood out of it.

“Can you try and fix the vacuum cleaner?” she asked him rather than answer his question. “It smells like smoke whenever I use it. I think something’s caught in it.”

“Damn it,” Brett growled, catching her hidden hint.

Tabitha wasn’t sure if Wyatt was going to send the state out or not.

Chapter Fourteen

“Wait, I don’t understand what the problem is. What’s wrong with one kiss? Why do y’all think you got to ride out there in the middle of the night?”

Wyatt shrugged at his sister from across the coffee table. “I don’t get it either, but I’m telling you, Tabitha was scared near to death ’bout the two of us getting caught by her brother and that asshole Vaughn.”

“You’re an idiot.” Clay shook his head as he glared at Wyatt from his seat next to Jules. “Brett’s freaking out. I promise you. No one likes a cop in that neck of town. If we do decide to go check on her, I’m going alone.”

“Hell, no, I’m going with you.” Wyatt gestured to himself and gave Clay a hard look. “Do you see a sheriff’s badge on my chest?”

“Yes, I do,” Clay argued. “That’s all anyone sees when they look at you. Why didn’t you just listen to her when she said no the five hundred times before? Why do you have to be so damn stubborn ’bout everything?”

“Oh, I’m stubborn.” Wyatt laughed incredulously. “That really means something coming from you. I told you I was going to make this my year. Now you have an issue with it? What’d you think I meant by that?”

“You say that every year. I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Clay’s dark eyes narrowed. “Out in the open. At the end of her damn street. That’s ’bout as slick as sandpaper. I can’t believe I’ve got to claim such a dumbass as a best friend.”

“I still don’t understand. What is the actual problem?” Jules cut in reasonably. “Are you afraid her brother is going to do something bad to her because of this? Or Vaughn? You said he threatened her. Do you think he meant it?”

“Yes,” Clay and Wyatt answered together.

“Then we should call Daddy,” Jules announced and pushed back her chair. “He can stop by her house and make sure she’s okay. It’ll be much quicker than Clay riding out in the middle of the night.”

“You can’t call him.” Clay grabbed her wrist before she could stand.

“Why not?” Jules twisted her wrist, breaking his hold. She slapped his hand when he tried to touch her again. “Don’t be grabbing at me. I hit back.”

“You did this.” Clay held up his hands and gave Wyatt a look across the table. “I suggest you stop her if you ever want Tabitha to speak to you again.”

“I ain’t so sure she’s in the wrong.” Wyatt shook his head. “Maybe we should call my dad. I’ve been leaning that way myself since I left.”

“Thank you, Wyatt,” Jules said, still sounding cool and collected. “If you think she’s in danger of being raped—”

Wyatt flinched at the word, feeling the bile rising up in the back of his throat. “Don’t say that, Ju Ju. It makes me feel sick.”

Clay scratched at the back of his neck and took a long breath as if looking for a different solution. “Why don’t we just call her?”

Wyatt and Jules exchanged looks and then agreed in unison. “Okay.”

Clay went to the phone in the kitchen and dialed her number while Wyatt and Jules crowded in close to him so they could hear. The phone rang three times before it was picked up.

“Yeah?”

“Mrs. McMillen.” Clay cleared his voice, obviously trying to get rid of the gruffness that was always there. “Tabitha there?”

“Why?”

“’Cause I wanna talk to her.”

“Nah, she ain’t here.”

“Bullshit.” He growled in annoyance. When Wyatt kicked him, Clay held up his hand, as if to say let me do my thing before he said in a low, demanding voice, “Just let me talk to her.”

“It’s eleven at night. Ain’t the sheriff teaching you manners up in that big Conner house?”

“No, he ain’t. Can I talk to Tab, or do I need to ride my ass up there and get my homework assignment in person?”

“Yeah, you ride up here. See what you find when you get here.”

“You know what? Forget it. I’ll get a lift. Sheriff just got off work.”

“Hell.” She sounded completely exasperated, but after a long pause, she called. “Tabitha! That Powers trash is on the phone.”

Wyatt pushed himself closer to the phone when he heard Tabitha ask in confusion, “What?”

“Said he needs a homework assignment. Like he’s doing real schoolwork.” Tabitha’s mother’s words were slurred as she kept rambling. “Don’t know why you keep hanging round him. Born trash, will always be trash, and now he’s living at the Conner house again ’cause no one can put up with him and—”

“Can I have the phone, Mama?” Tabitha said in an even voice. “He’s trying to get on the wrestling team. He needs good grades for that.”

“Fine. Take it.”

There was a scuffle over the phone before Tabitha spoke uncertainly. “Yes.”

“She’s drunk,” Clay said with a scowl.

“Yes, I know.” Tabitha sighed, sounding tired. “What homework assignment do you need?”

Wyatt yanked the phone out of Clay’s grasp and then slammed his palm into his chest when he tried to grab it back. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly.

“Yes,” Tabitha whispered, as if afraid just Wyatt’s voice on the other end of the line would give her away.

“Are you sure?” Wyatt pressed, because his heart had been racing since he let her leave. “’Cause Clay and I were gonna ride out there and—”

“I think that would be a really bad idea.” Tabitha almost choked on the words. “I heard Mrs. Conway is strict ’bout turning in assignments.”

“I can still call my dad,” Wyatt went on despite the ruse Tabitha was playing about the homework. “If you’re in danger, you need to tell me.”

“No, I think it’ll be fine.”

“She thinks?” Jules cut in. “I don’t like that. Ask more questions.”

“Who was that?” Tabitha asked, a thread of fear sounding in her voice.

“My sister.”

“Oh my God.” Tabitha groaned. “You’re gonna fail, and we just started.”

“Look, she was here when I got home, and she’s nosy as hell. You try keeping stuff from her. She heard me talking to Clay ’bout riding out there and—”

“I have to go now,” Tabitha cut him off.

“You didn’t give me the homework assignment,” Wyatt reminded her, hoping to keep Tabitha on the phone longer.

“Jeez.” Tabitha huffed. “Fine. Let me go get my bag.”

“Can you take the phone with you?”

“No.”

“They don’t have a portable,” Clay clarified before Wyatt could argue. “Let her go.”

Wyatt tapped his foot, holding the phone tighter to his ear while both Clay and Jules suffocated him. When the other line was picked up once more, he was expecting Tabitha, but got Brett McMillen instead.

“I know this is you, Conner.”

Clay jerked the phone out of Wyatt’s hand and said, “That’s what you think.”

“Bullshit, you called for him.”

“Yeah, unlike you, I’m not a lapdog. How’s Vaughn? Still blowing him for pot?”

“Fuck you, Clay.”

“Suck me.”

“This is charming,” Jules whispered in Wyatt’s ear. “No wonder we can’t get him to be civil for the foster system if this is what he came from.”

Clay flipped both of them off and then said, “Can I help you, Brett? Why the fuck are you still on the phone?”

“I wanna know why you’re calling.”

“’Cause I needed the assignment. Some of us do homework.”

“Conner didn’t put you up to it?”

“Is there something I should know? What’s your obsession with him?” Clay countered. “It sounds like you wanna date him.”

“I think you’re full of shit.”

Clay sighed tiredly, doing a very good job of sounding bored. “Whatever. You got to lay off the drugs, man; they’re making you paranoid.”

“Fine,” Brett grumbled, and there was a shuffle over the phone as if he tossed it aside.

A second later Tabitha picked it up. “You have a pen?”

“Sure.” Clay held up a hand to stop Wyatt before he could take the phone back. “Your brother’s a dick.”

“He can still hear you,” Tabitha said flippantly.

Clay gave Wyatt a pointed look and then asked Tabitha, “Why’s he asking ’bout Wyatt?”

“I don’t know.” She sounded tense. “Are you ready to write this down?”

“Yup.” Clay nodded, even though he had already finished his homework for the night.

Tabitha read off the homework assignment for American Literature, the only class she shared with Clay. Then she asked softly, “Is that all?”

“I guess.” Clay looked back at Wyatt, seeming to consider his words before he asked Tabitha, “Am I gonna see you at school tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.”

Wyatt tensed in apprehension and made another swipe for the portable, but Clay jumped back and shoved him away at the same time. “Skipping school already?”

“I’m not feeling good. I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Staying home could cause issues.” Clay sidestepped Wyatt again, swiftly dodging his grab for the phone. He raised his fist threateningly as if to punch him and snapped into the receiver, “You do not want to skip classes when school just started.”

“Maybe.”

“No, not maybe.” Clay spoke in slow, concise words. “Staying home ain’t an option for you. You need to be in school. You’re too smart to ruin your chances at college. Got it?”

Tabitha was quiet for a long moment before she said, “Yeah, I got it.”

“And you’re okay tonight?” Clay asked in a low, concerned voice. “You don’t need a doctor or nothing if you’re feeling ill?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Clay hung up the phone and set it on the counter. He gave Wyatt a hard glare. “She’s fine.”

“No, she’s not. She said she was ill. Why doesn’t she wanna come to school if she’s fine?” Wyatt practically roared; the blood was rushing to his face from the level of his fear. “There’s something wrong.”

“If she wanted your help, she would’ve asked for it.” Clay pushed him back when Wyatt made another go for the phone, intent on redialing. “We gave her plenty of chances.”

“Like hell!”

“You have to wait, Wyatt. This is life-altering shit we’re dealing with.”

“If her mother’s drunk all the time and her brother’s such a bully, why does she want to stay there?” Jules asked, voicing out loud the same question Wyatt asked himself all the time.

Clay scrubbed a hand over his face and looked away. His body was tense, and he seemed to be battling an inner war with himself before he admitted in a quiet voice, “I know y’all don’t get it, but no one wants to end up with the state. It sucks. Belonging to a fucked-up family is better than being an outsider in a normal one. I’d go back to the trailer park in a minute. It’s better to stay with the place you know. Some of those normal folks only appear that way on the outside. Bad things happen in foster homes too.”

Jules took a step toward him. “Clay—”

“No.” He held up a hand before Jules could hug him in a motherly fashion. “I ain’t looking for your sympathy or your babying. I’m just telling you why Tabitha is the way she is. She knows her mama is fucked-up, and she knows her family’s broke, and she knows her home life ain’t healthy, but it’s all she’s got, and right now she’s not ready to leave, and I think you got to respect that. That’s it.”

There was a deathly silence after Clay’s admission that was the closest he had ever come to explaining his feelings about his mother leaving or his being stuck in the foster system.

“You’re not an outsider here,” Jules finally whispered. “You don’t feel that way, do you?”

He looked away, the discomfort radiating off him in waves.

“Clay,” Jules pressed when he avoided her question.

He looked back to her after a long moment and shrugged. “No, I don’t feel that way here, but y’all ain’t exactly a typical family. Trust me, I’ve been stuck in dozens of normal houses, and this one ain’t even in the running for normal. Your dad keeps weird hours, and you’re home alone most of the time, but instead of fucking around like normal teenagers, you work yourselves to death for stupid things like sports and grades, and when you do finally go to bed, you sit up half the night listening to police radios. What the rest of this town doesn’t know is Conners are ’bout as paranoid and fucked-up as they come, which is probably why I like y’all. Now I’m going to bed.”

Clay turned to leave while Jules and Wyatt stood there gaping after him.

* * *

Wyatt stayed up listening to the police scanner, hearing his father’s voice crackle over the radio waves as he communicated with the deputies and dealt with all the mundane occurrences that went on in Garnet at night. Two cars got tickets for speeding. A third got pulled over and ended up with a DUI. Someone broke their foot getting out of the shower. A domestic disturbance at two in the morning had Wyatt sitting up in bed, but when he heard the address, he knew it wasn’t Tabitha’s house.

He was up when his father got home at four.

Wyatt’s hands were laced behind his head when the door cracked open, sending a sliver of light into the dark room.

“Hey, Dad,” he said rather than feign sleep like he usually did.

His father walked in, still wearing his uniform. “How come you’re still up?”

“Just thinking.”

He sat on the edge of Wyatt’s bed. “Whatcha thinking ’bout?”

“Just stuff.”

“Your sister okay?”

“Yup,” Wyatt said with a weak smile. “Jules is better than most.”

“Clay all right?”

“I guess so.” Wyatt pushed the covers back and sat up. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his sweaty forehead because the nerves still had him anxious. “Why can’t he live here all the time? Why do we have keep forcing him into these places he hates?”

“Well, Wy.” His father sighed tiredly. “We’re okay in a pinch, but I don’t think the state wants him here full-time.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause I ain’t got a wife or a normal job, and there’s probably better places for a kid who ain’t never had a stable home life.”

“I think that’s bullshit.”

“Maybe,” his father said with a laugh. “Is that what’s got you counting sheep at four in the morning?”

“Do you get tired of your job?” Wyatt asked him curiously. “Tired of dealing with all the stuff you can’t fix?”

His father considered the question for a long time before he nodded. “Yeah, I get tired of it, but I reckon someone’s got to do it. Might as well be me. Besides, there are good days. It ain’t all hopeless.”

“Just most of the time,” Wyatt said, knowing the answer without hearing it.

“You know, Wyatt, you don’t have to be a deputy right out of school like I was,” he said in concern. “Whatever you wanna do, I support you. If you think this job’s not for you—”

“It’s not that.” Wyatt cut him off before he could waste his breath. “It’s just, I don’t always know what the right answers are. It’s supposed to be easy, right? This is the law. This ain’t. You break it, and that’s it. You go to jail, but sometimes the rules don’t work the way they’re supposed to.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No,” Wyatt said quickly. “I’m just thinking ’bout things.”

“Well, stop it.” His father reached over and pushed his head lightly. “Turn it off for a while and get some sleep. You got school in a few hours.”

Wyatt fell back against the bed and went back to staring at the ceiling as his father stood. He was at the door before Wyatt asked, “How’d you know you loved our mom?”

In the ray of light, Wyatt could see the pain flash over his face as he answered in a soft, endearing voice. “To be honest, Wyatt, I can’t really remember a time when I didn’t love her.”

Wyatt sighed, understanding completely, and it scared him to death.

“Would you undo it?” he asked curiously. “I mean, I know you got to say all the crap ’bout getting us out of the deal and everything, but if you take all that out of it, would you still love her, knowing you were gonna spend most of your life hurting over it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded without hesitation. “Without a doubt.”

“Why?”

“’Cause it was just that great.” His father grabbed the door handle and stepped out of the room. “Now try to get some sleep.

Chapter Fifteen

“What the heck happened to you?”

Tabitha pulled her hair over the bandage over her forehead and peeked out at Terry from beneath the red strands when he sat down next to her on the bus. “Nothing.”

“You are very accident prone.” Terry dropped his bag down on the floor between them. “What’s Conner got to say ’bout that?”

“Why?” Tabitha asked defensively.

“I’m just saying, girls as accident prone as you tend to have a story to tell.”

“My mama says my head’s up in the clouds too much. It makes me clumsy.”

“Is that it?”

“Yup.”

Terry dropped his head back against the seat, and then let it loll to the side to study her. “You look like hell today.”

“Thanks,” Tabitha said drily. “I feel like hell.”

“You wanna talk ’bout it?”

“You wanna tell me why your mama sold your car?” Tabitha countered.

“Touché.” Terry laughed. “So let’s talk ’bout something else. You make your move with Conner yet?”

“Let’s talk about anything but that.”

Terry raised his eyebrows knowingly. “Little girl, you are a mess.”

Tabitha closed her eyes tiredly and let her head drop back against the seat like Terry’s. She was quiet for a long time before she turned on her side, tucking her hands underneath her cheek and asked, “Do you think I’m pretty?”

“You don’t think Conner’s been hounding you for nothing, do you?” Terry grinned. “Yeah, you’re pretty. Very pretty. You’re one of those late bloomers who just showed up great looking out of the blue. Guess Conner’s smarter than most.”

“I was thinking ’bout cutting my hair,” Tabitha mused. “Short.”

“God, why?” Terry winced.

She shrugged. “Maybe it’d make me less pretty.”

Terry paused at that before his gaze flicked over her, taking in her jeans and Brett’s large flannel shirt she’d put on over her T-shirt. “Did something happen to you, Tabitha?”

“No,” she lied as she closed her eyes, feeling the tears threatening because for the first time since she’d left Wyatt behind yesterday, she could let her guard down. “I like being around you, Terry. You make feel safe, and I dunno why. You’re different, but it’s a good different.”

“Sweetheart.” Terry reached out, cupping her cheek, and it said a lot about him that she didn’t flinch away from the affection. “What happened?”

She didn’t know why she did it, but she crumpled into Terry Dower like he was her only friend in the world, which at the moment felt true, because she couldn’t talk to Wyatt or Clay without making things worse than they already were.

“I’m all alone,” she squeaked, crying silently in a way she’d learned a long time ago. “What am I going to do? I can’t talk to him anymore. He’ll know what happened after he left, and he’ll think I’m stupid because I am stupid and—”

“Okay, let’s not talk ’bout him.” Terry rubbed her back, pulling her tighter against him as he scooted down in the seat, hiding them from prying eyes. “Let’s talk ’bout me instead. You can tell me what happened, and I won’t think you’re stupid.”

Tabitha blinked up at him through her tears. “You won’t?”

Terry shook his head. “No, I promise.”

She believed him, so she told him everything. About her first amazing kiss with Wyatt, and then Brett and Vaughn showing up and ruining everything. She told him what happened in the bathroom. She told him about Clay’s call, and her brother questioning her relentlessly into the night after their mother passed out. Brett’s paranoia was spiked by whatever drugs he was taking, and she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

It all spilled out of her in hushed, terrified whispers between broken sobs, and on some level she knew it was good to talk about it, but it was draining when she was already incredibly tired. The two of them were scrunched so low in the seat the other kids on the bus probably thought they were doing something indecent, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

When the bus stopped in front of the school, Tabitha looked at Terry with wide eyes and asked again, “Do you think it’ll stop if I cut my hair?”

Terry winced. “I don’t think that’s the best solution.”

“I don’t wanna go to class.” Her voice cracked from the tears and exhaustion. “I wanted to stay home, but Clay said if I didn’t come—”

“How ’bout we skip school today?” Terry suggested. “Just the two of us? You can come back to my place. My parents are working. My brothers might come home, but they ain’t gonna say nothing ’bout you taking a nap in my bed, okay?”

“I don’t want you to get into trouble,” Tabitha whispered.

“If my parents knew I was skipping school to get a girl in my bed, they’d be the happiest two folks in Garnet, I promise you.”

For some reason, the way Terry said it didn’t make it seem like a threat. It sounded sort of funny, and she let out a soft giggle. “If you say so.”

“I don’t know what ya’ll are doing back there,” the bus driver called. “But we’ve arrived in case you ain’t noticed.”

“Okay, come on.” Terry grabbed both their bags, putting one over each shoulder, and stood.

Tabitha pulled her hair over her forehead and kept her head down as she let Terry lead her down the aisle of the bus. Her hand was in his, and it help to dispel some of the tension.

When she stepped off the bus into the sunshine, it was incredibly jarring after a night with no sleep. A part of her brain thought it should still be night. She blinked past it, feeling disoriented. She wiped at her face with her free hand and tried to pull herself together long enough to figure out how they were going to cut school.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted with a wince. “How are we gonna manage cutting school?”

“I might’ve lied when I said it was going to be just the two of us. I’m gonna have to grab a ride. This no-car shit sucks.”

“Who’ll give us a ride? They’ll tell on us.”

“Ah, no.” Terry laughed. “Our secret will be safe. I’ve cut school with him plenty of times.”

“Tabitha!”

“Oh my God.” Tabitha turned into Terry when she heard Wyatt’s voice echo across the parking lot. She hid her face in his chest and whispered, “Does he have his sister with him?”

“If I say yes, are you going to freak out?”

She clutched at his shirt tighter. “Yes.”

“Right.” Terry lifted his arm, calling out, “Conner! Hey, buddy, why don’t you lose your better half?”

As embarrassing as it was, on the second week of school Tabitha stood there on the sidewalk leading to the high school shaking with exhaustion, face swollen from crying, trying to hide from life in Terry’s T-shirt.

“Yeah, he’s not having a great time losing her. They really are the dynamic duo, aren’t they?” Terry mused.

Tabitha giggled again, which seemed insane as everything else that was happening around her. “Is she gone?”

“She’s going to the school with Powers. She doesn’t look happy ’bout it.”

“Why does she care what happens to me?” Tabitha huffed.

“You know it’s built into their genetics to nose into stuff like that. Twenty bucks says she ends up being sheriff instead of Wyatt.”

“She was right there listening last night. I could die of embarrassment. Wyatt probably told her everything.” Tabitha groaned. “What a horrible side effect to liking a guy with a twin.”

“That’s just one of many problems you got to deal with when it comes to Conner. You pick ’em better than I do, and that’s saying something.” Terry wrapped one arm around Tabitha and then reached out with the other. She could feel his palm land against something hard and unforgiving. “Whoa, there, Romeo. Don’t come stomping over here like you’re gonna end my world. I’m your friend. Probably the best friend you got in this whole dang school. You just don’t know it yet.”

“Tabitha.” Wyatt’s voice cracked on her name, making it come out more like a croak of fear. “What is going on?”

Wyatt touched her shoulder, and she flinched. What if this was one of the days Brett came to school? She doubted it since he was up all night long questioning her, but someone could say something to him.

“What the hell?” Wyatt asked again. “What is wrong with her? What happened?”

“Here’s what’re gonna do. Tabitha and me are ditching—”

“Like hell.” Wyatt cut him off. “Look, Dower, I dunno who you think you are, but if you think I’m gonna let you take my girl—”

Tabitha stiffened as a low sound of fear escaped her. She turned her head on Terry’s chest to make sure no one heard Wyatt. They were alone on the sidewalk, which was a small blessing. There were other students mulling around, but they were out of earshot.

“Here’s a concept, Conner; maybe it isn’t always about you,” Terry said slowly. “I’m taking her to my house for a nap because she hasn’t had any sleep.”

“Why hasn’t she had any sleep?” Wyatt barked back, sounding like a cop asking questions. “Why is she crying? And why can’t I touch her?”

“We’re not leaving with you,” Terry went on as if he hadn’t just heard the rapid-fire questioning. “But if you wanna show up at my house at some point, I’m game to that.”

“You are leaving with me,” Wyatt countered. “If she’s going, I am too. I’m not letting you take her alone to your house. I know your parents work all day. No fucking way.”

“We’re trying to keep things on the down low. Dating you ain’t real great for her health. Get it?”

“Then you better figure out a way to be slick ’bout it,” Wyatt said firmly. “I’m going.”

“Oh Christ,” Terry groaned, and Tabitha could feel his head fall back as if he were looking to the heavens for help. “Fine. I got to find my friend. He’s probably already inside. You wait here; I’m taking Tabitha with me.”

“Fuck off!” Wyatt growled in a low, dangerous voice. “No, this is bullshit. I dunno why she’s standing there crawling all over you, but—”

“I’m gay,” Terry snapped in a low voice filled with frustration. “I’m totally fucking gay, Conner. I’m not taking your girl from you. She is not my type. So can you tone down the macho bullshit about five hundred degrees?”

It was such a startling, impassioned confession everything else in Tabitha’s mind was pushed to the wayside. She looked up at Terry in shock. “Is that true?”

“Yeah, that’s why my parents sold my car.” Terry looked away, a dark blush staining his cheeks. “They caught me.”

Tabitha put a hand to her mouth in horror and mumbled against her fingers, “Was it terrible?”

“Yes,” Terry said with a bitter laugh. “It’s still terrible.”

“I’m so sorry.” She hugged him again and placed her face back against his chest. “So very sorry.”

“I think I just killed your boyfriend,” Terry said uncertainly.

Tabitha remembered Wyatt again and turned around, finding him standing there looking at the two of them with eyebrows raised and his jaw hanging slack. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he had about as much sleep as Tabitha had.

She couldn’t help but feel guilty about it as Wyatt shook his head, obviously fighting with his exhaustion as he said, “Wait, what?”

“Holy shit.” Terry let out a pained laugh and then in slow, concise words repeated again, “I am gay.”

Wyatt just gaped at him again before he found his voice again, sounding completely mystified. “Why?”

“Uh…” Terry paused, totally flabbergasted. “Because I am. Is that an issue for you? Would you rather me be after your girl?”

“No.” Wyatt seemed to muse over it for a second more. “I just don’t—” He shook his head, clearly still searching for the right words. “Okay, Dower, whatever. I guess that’s your choice, but I don’t get it. You don’t like girls at all?”

“I like them as friends. I like this girl.” Terry squeezed her tighter. “I just don’t wanna make out with them. That’s as repulsive as it can get to me.”

“Wow.” Wyatt nodded, still looking amazed. “Jules would love you. She’s got this whole thing ’bout liberation and—”

“Can we go find my friend now? Meet us in the back of the student parking lot.”

“Right. I guess that makes sense.” Wyatt nodded, still sounding mystified as he hiked his backpack up on his shoulder. Then he glanced at Tabitha in concern. “What happened to your head?”

Tabitha placed a hand over the bandage. “I tripped.”

“Really?” Wyatt asked in disbelief. “Tab—”

“We’re running out of time.” Terry used his hold on Tabitha to pull her away. “Meet us in the back in ten minutes.”

* * *

It turned out Terry’s friend with the car was Hal Parker, the biggest, meanest linebacker on the football team, which was saying something, because Wyatt was on the team. Hal didn’t look thrilled about giving them a ride. He kept glaring at the two of them.

When they were to the back door of the school, he stopped, his gaze resting on Terry’s arm casually draped over Tabitha’s shoulder. “You two dating now?”

“Stop,” Terry said tiredly.

“I was just wondering what y’all are planning to do when you get back to the house. Seeing how I’m risking my spot on the team to get you there.”

“We’re gonna fuck.”

Tabitha stiffened, turning to look at Terry with wide eyes.

“Yeah, well, then you can get your own ride back,” Hal barked before Tabitha could find her voice.

“I would,” Terry said, his voice as tense as Hal’s, “but I lost my car. Whose fault is that?”

“Oh!” Tabitha gasped, understanding the hostility now. She looked to Hal in surprise, because no one would’ve guessed that in a million years. With Terry, yes, but Hal Parker. “No way. It was him?”

Hal’s gaze darted back to Terry’s, wild and crazed. “You told her?”

“She’s an artist,” Terry said as if it explained everything.

Hal gaped. “That was your basis for telling her?”

“Yes, no, it just sort of slipped out. Wyatt was being difficult and—”

“Wyatt Conner.” Hal’s face paled. “You’re joking. You have to be fucking joking.” He backed away and leaned against the wall. He placed both hands over his face and mumbled against his fingers, “Please tell me this is a joke, Ter.”

“She’s sorta dating him and—”

“I play on the football team with him.” Hal was still speaking into his hand. “You knew that, right? That he’s on varsity this year.”

“Yeah, I knew.”

“You did not tell Wyatt Conner’s girlfriend about us. This can’t be happening.” Hal dropped his hands, looking completely horrified. “You ain’t that stupid. It’s not physically possible. He is, hands down, the worst person in the world to know.”

“He doesn’t know about us. Just me,” Terry said defensively. “And Tabitha won’t tell him if you ask her not to. She’s my friend.”

Hal gave Terry a look of disbelief. “Since when? In case you ain’t noticed, I hang out with you. I’ve never seen you with this girl before. Now you’re ditching class to take her back to your house. What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t have to ditch class,” Tabitha said quickly, because she didn’t want to cause Terry any problems. “Really, I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve had a bad night. I’ll just try to avoid Brett’s friends until I get myself together. I don’t think Vaughn is in school today and—”

“What?” Hal interrupted her.

“He attacked her. She’s shaken up.” Terry’s voice was pleading for understanding. “She needs a nap.”

“Who attacked her?”

Terry took a deep breath and gave Hal the very abbreviated version of what happened. He glazed over some of the nastier aspects, but Tabitha’s cheeks still heated in embarrassment.

“Does Wyatt know all this?” Hal asked, studying Tabitha in concern. His gaze stopped on her forehead.

“He knows something’s wrong, but I ain’t told him yet. I think it’ll upset him,” Tabitha whispered, finding that she liked Hal once she got past his abrasive attitude, and if Terry cared for him, he had to be a nice person. “But then he showed up at the bus drop-off, and he got irritated ’bout me hugging Terry.”

“Yeah, I know how he feels.” Hal’s gaze dropped to Terry’s arm still over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Tabitha found herself fighting tears again. The exhaustion wasn’t helping her problem at all. “Maybe I should go to class.”

The first bell rang in warning.

“Let’s just go,” Hal said before Tabitha could voice another complaint. “But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything to Wyatt ’bout me.”

“I would never,” Tabitha said quickly. “I don’t care if you’re—”

“Don’t say it.” Hal pushed past them and walked to the door. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “Besides, you got bigger problems than me or Terry’s issues.”

“What’s that?” Tabitha asked as she and Terry followed after him. “I mean, besides the obvious.”

“There’s a reason Wyatt is a starting linebacker as a freshman. I ain’t never seen anything like him, and I’ve been playing ball since I was five. He’s meaner than the devil himself when he’s protecting someone,” Hal said grimly and looked down at her as he pushed open the door for both of them. “I think he’s gonna kill that motherfucker when he finds out what happened…and your brother too.”

* * *

The list of things Wyatt was having a hard time coming to terms with this morning was extensive, but he dealt with them silently as he sat next to Hal Parker in a beaten-up brown station wagon that had likely once belonged to Hal’s mother.

He should probably be worried about his sister, who was going to lose her shit when she found out he cut class. Or his father, who was going to be equally freaked out when Jules told him. Or his space on the football team that was being put in definite jeopardy for this outing.

Instead, he kept turning around to look into the backseat, because Terry and Tabitha were talking in low, hushed whispers, their heads bowed close together in a way that was more than a little intimate. It set him on edge, and he might be inclined to think Terry was a better liar than Jules, if Wyatt didn’t notice Hal was having issues too.

Hal wasn’t saying much, which in itself wasn’t out of the ordinary. He was never a big talker, but he had adjusted the rearview mirror four times and counting. Wyatt scooted down on the seat and tilted his head to see where the mirror was reflecting only to spy Terry and Tabitha’s faces glaring back at him.

Wyatt let his eyes roll to the side and studied Hal, whose broad shoulders were stiff in defensiveness. There were creases in his forehead from the permanent frown that had been on his face since they’d gotten into the car.

Hal tilted the mirror again and then grunted.

Wyatt looked at the reflection, seeing that Terry was touching Tabitha’s hair. He grunted too when the spark of jealously hit him in the chest.

“So, Parker,” Wyatt started, because he was in desperate need of a distraction to keep him from leaning into the backseat and punching Terry. “You dating someone?”

“No.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows at the curt one-word answer. “You got your eye on anyone?”

“Why the fuck are you asking?” Hal barked back, finally looking away from the road to glare at Wyatt.

“Do you have a problem with me asking?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah, I have a problem with it. Mind your own damn business.”

Wyatt had seen one too many defensive criminals dragged into the sheriff’s office not to have red flags going up everywhere. This was turning out to be a highly educational trip into juvenile delinquency. Wyatt needed to cut school more often.

A grin quirked at the corner of his mouth, even if he was having a very hard time wrapping his brain around the idea that was forming. He was a little too nosy not to press the issue, especially when the silence had Hal messing with the mirror again.

Wyatt made a point to lean over, now being blatant about it rather than subtle. He looked at the mirror pointedly. “Wanna tell me what you’re looking at back there?”

Hal shoved him with a low growl of frustration, which said something about him. Not many people shoved Wyatt these days. Hal didn’t bother to straighten the mirror, but his eyes were back on the road, his shoulders even more tense, and there was a pulse of noticeable fear throbbing off him.

“I’m just asking ’cause my girl’s back there. You don’t like redheads, do you, Parker? I’d hate to think me and you have a problem.”

“Wyatt,” Tabitha said in warning.

Wyatt threw up his hands defensively. “Some guys have a thing for redheads, Tab. That’s a fact. I know ’cause I’m one of them, but then again maybe he has different tastes.”

They pulled into the driveway, and Hal was on him before he’d put the car into park. He wrapped his large hand around Wyatt’s neck and leaned in with a low growl of fury. “You listen to me, you little shit. I don’t give a fuck how badass you think you are on the football field or how invincible you think your daddy’s badge makes you. If you say one word ’bout Terry to anyone, I will fucking bury you.”

Wyatt smiled broadly when he saw how flushed Hal’s face was. “Defending his honor?”

“Motherfucker.” Hal shoved him, forcing Wyatt’s head to crack against the window. “I ain’t kidding.”

Wyatt laughed. “I can tell.”

Hal shoved him again and then sat back up. He put the car into park with hard, jerky motions. “Terry, I’m gonna kill you instead of him. You don’t know him like I do. He is not gonna let this shit go. I have no idea how Powers tolerates his mouth living in that house like he does. He is a fucking force unto himself.”

“I just wanna know one thing,” Wyatt said before Hal could get out of the car. “Do you check me out in the shower?”

Hal turned around to give Terry a dark, angry look.

Wyatt glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Terry wince in response as he said, “I didn’t think ’bout that.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t. You don’t think ’bout anything.” Hal turned back to glare at Wyatt once more. “No, I do not check you out. You ain’t my type, Conner. So don’t flatter yourself.”

“It seems to me like I’m kinda your type.” Wyatt arched an eyebrow and gestured to himself. “Oh, come on, you looked. You can admit it. I ain’t gonna hold it against you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Hey, I don’t care if you did. I ain’t shy.” Wyatt laughed again. “You can look if you want.”

“Un-fucking-believable.” Hal got out of the car. “I’m staying here today. I got to figure out what I’m gonna do. Short of murder, there’s no muzzling this prick.”

He slammed the door hard enough to make the station wagon shake, then leaned back against it and put both his hands to his face as his shoulders slumped.

“Why did you have to do that?” Tabitha asked, the disappointment sounding in her voice. “That was mean.”

“Yeah, you’re an asshole,” Terry agreed. “Dunno why I wanted to help you. Come on, Tabitha, we’ll figure your shit out. You can walk back to school, Conner. You ain’t welcome in my house anymore.”

“Shit.” Wyatt winced, feeling guilty almost instantly. He ran a hand over his face, wishing he had gotten more sleep last night. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m freaked out ’bout what happened last night, and you’re brushing me off and crawling all over him.” Wyatt turned around and gave Tabitha a look of hurt he couldn’t hide. “And I don’t understand why. Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Tabitha said softly and imitated Hal outside when she covered her face with her hands. “All of this is my fault. Now Hal’s upset when he was nice enough to drive us and—”

“Look, I’ll fix it,” Wyatt said quickly and then opened the door and got out. He walked around the front of the car and came to stand next to Hal. He reached out to touch Hal’s shoulder. “Parker.”

Hal knocked Wyatt’s hand away without looking at him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Terry and Tabitha got out of the backseat. They cast him disappointed glares as they walked to the house. Wyatt got the distinct impression if he didn’t somehow make things right with Hal, he was going to end up sitting outside, and that wasn’t an option. He wanted to know what the hell had her crying and bruised up this morning. Every defense mechanism he had was going off.

It was little wonder he started something to ease the anxiety that had him wound up so tightly it felt like it was squeezing the air out of his chest.

“I ain’t gonna say anything,” Wyatt told Hal earnestly once Terry and Tabitha went inside. “You want it private, and I get it. The secret’s safe. You’re a good guy. I wouldn’t ’cause you problems for nothing. I know most the guys on the team are assholes.”

“And why the hell should we believe you?”

“I guess you shouldn’t. I’m an asshole too. Probably the biggest one of the lot.” Wyatt leaned back against the car and shrugged. “I swear, Parker, that girl gets under my skin, and I end up doing the stupidest shit. Ask Clay ’bout it sometime if you don’t believe me. I get jealous, and I stop thinking, but that ain’t your fault, and I’m sorry I used you as a distraction. Not my place to give you hell over your preference. Tits are awesome, but whatever. This is America, and it’s your choice who you wanna spend your spare time with.”

Hal let out a choked, broken laugh that made him sound like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Jesus, Conner. Is there a filter for that mouth of yours?”

“Probably not.” Wyatt sighed. “But really, maybe you ought to start looking harder at the other side. God, Tabitha always smells so good, and she feels amazing pressed up against me, all curvy and soft. I just wanna spend every minute next to her. I can’t imagine wanting a fella over something like that.”

“It ain’t that easy. I have looked. Probably closer than you have. I’ve been with a few girls.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “Been with?”

“Yeah, been with.”

“Wow, if I’d been with a girl, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be dating Terry Dower.”

“You ain’t never—” Hal arched an eyebrow at him.

Wyatt shook his head.

“Really?” Hal frowned. “I figured you’d been doing it since middle school. Any girl with a pulse likes you.”

“Yeah, but I only got one girl in mind.” Wyatt looked back to the house longingly. “I love her so dang much sometimes I feel like I can’t even breathe without her around.”

“I sorta caught that.” Hal sent him a hesitant look. “You know, Conner, her home life ain’t great.”

Wyatt nodded miserably. “I know.”

“Terry said Vaughn Davis attacked her last night.”

“Attacked her?” Wyatt repeated as his entire body stiffened.

“Calm down. He didn’t rape her; I asked. They just scared her,” Hal said quickly and threw one big arm out to stop Wyatt when he pushed away from the car. “Now don’t be barging in there like a bull and scaring her worse. Stop. Take a breath and listen to me for five minutes.”

Wyatt wasn’t listening. He shoved past Hal, intent on getting to Tabitha and finding out exactly what happened last night. He was cursing himself for not listening to his instincts and stopping her from going home. He was halfway across the yard when Hal downed him with a tackle that was impressive. Thank God for grass. He’d have lost a tooth for sure, and his father would kill him if he needed another one capped.

It only took him a second to recover despite being crushed under Hal’s weight. He threw his elbow back into Hal’s chest hard enough to knock the air out of him. Then he rolled out from him easily and got to his feet. Hal grabbed his ankle, but Wyatt was in full offense mode and broke out of the hold. He stomped on his hand for good measure. Hanging out with Clay all the time was bad for his sportsmanship.

Hal shouted in shock and then rolled over, grabbing at Wyatt’s ankle again with his other hand. He was quick for a linebacker, almost as quick as Wyatt, but not quite.

“This ain’t a football field,” Wyatt warned Hal in a low voice because he really didn’t want to fight him. “You keep attacking me, and I’m gonna start swinging. Trust me, Parker, you don’t want that. I got more than one black belt that says I can end you.”

“You cannot go in there and start barking at that girl. She is fragile, and you’re just gonna make things worse for her. Remember when you said you stop thinking. This is one of those moments for you. You’re gonna fuck up. Now I’m helping you. So I suggest you stop and appreciate it before someone calls the cops. How do you think that’s gonna turn out, seeing how class started twenty minutes ago?”

That was enough to give Wyatt pause. He looked around, glancing at the windows of Terry’s neighbors. Hal got to his feet with a groan, holding his injured hand.

“Hell, Conner, I think you broke it.”

If the threat of his father showing up didn’t jerk Wyatt back to reality, that sure did. He looked at Hal’s hand in concern. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Yeah, I think I’m fucking with you.” Hal flexed his fingers and then shook his hand experimentally. “It should be fine. Christ, you’re a hazard. Is this what you and Powers do at the rec center all the time?”

“He’s trying out for varsity wrestling,” Wyatt mumbled, still watching as Hal flexed his fingers.

“Feel sorry for the guys on varsity then. Holy shit. Fighting you is like trying to battle a hurricane.”

“Thanks.”

Hal looked up. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Then I hate to tell you, that wasn’t fighting.” Wyatt winced. “You can’t tackle me off the field. It messes with my sensors. I’m from a cop family. I’m all offense.”

“No kidding,” Hal said sarcastically and shook his hand once more before he looked up. “You got to cool off for a minute before you go in there.”

Wyatt took a deep breath and nodded, deciding Hal could have a point. “W-what’d she say to you? What do you know?”

“She told Terry the whole story. I just got the finer points of it.” Hal shrugged, giving Wyatt a long look. “But from what I gathered, her brother and Vaughn caught y’all doing something inappropriate and—”

“It wasn’t that inappropriate.” Wyatt interrupted him.

“Well, I guess it was enough to set them off. They cornered her in the bathroom, and I think Vaughn threatened to do some pretty nasty things to her.”

“Why?” Wyatt’s blood was pumping in his ears, but he fought past the haze to sort out details like Jules would in this situation. “There’s something missing here. Why would they just go after her like that?”

“Well, she ain’t bad-looking.” Hal shrugged. “Which I’m sure you noticed.”

“But you said they cornered her. Brett’s got a different motivation than Vaughn.” Wyatt pressed as he frowned at Hal. “Is there something you ain’t telling me?”

Hal shook his head. “I don’t think so, but I got it all secondhand.”

“I’m going to talk to her.” Wyatt started toward the house but was stopped when Hal grabbed the back of his shirt. He turned back around, glaring at Hal. “What now?”

“She’s had to tell the story once. Why not just let her rest? Girls ain’t as solution oriented as fellas are. Sometimes they just want someone to be there for them.”

“Are you giving me advice on girls?” Wyatt couldn’t help the laugh of disbelief that slipped out of him. “Really?”

“I do have more experience with them.” A smile quirked at the corner of Hal’s lips. “A lot more.”

Wyatt had to shrug in agreement. “I guess that’s true. But you forget, I have a twin who’s a girl, and she’s solution oriented. Her life sorta revolves around it, actually.”

“Your sister ain’t a normal girl. But that one in there is, and I think you ought to let it go for a little while. There’s nothing you can do ’bout any of it right now anyway. Terry will tell you what happened later.”

“I don’t think your boy Terry likes me all that much,” Wyatt couldn’t help but point out. “He might leave out things on purpose.”

“I’ll make sure he tells you. I know it’s important,” Hal assured him.

Wyatt stood there contemplating everything. He didn’t want to make Tabitha upset. He didn’t think there was anything worse in the world than seeing his girl crying, and he sure didn’t want to be the cause of it.

He already felt guilty about kissing her out in the open. He couldn’t believe one kiss could cause this many issues. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he took another cooling breath. He suddenly needed to be with Tabitha, to know for himself that she was fine.

“Yeah, okay, you’re right.” Wyatt turned and walked to the house, not really sure if he meant the words or not, but he was willing to say anything to get into that house.

He could deal with Vaughn and Brett later.

* * *

Terry’s bed was really soft, with an expensive mattress and nice sheets to boot. It was big too, overall much nicer than her beaten-up twin-size at home. She snuggled under the covers, which smelled like men’s cologne. It sort of reminded her of Wyatt. She noticed he’d been wearing that stuff lately, and she’d be lying to say she didn’t like it.

“Are you hungry, darlin’?” Terry asked in concern. “I can have Hal make you something when he comes in. That fella can cook like you wouldn’t believe.”

Tabitha smiled. The romantic in her enjoyed the unabashed adoration that sounded in Terry’s voice when he said Hal’s name. “No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“You sure?”

“Mmm,” she hummed in agreement. She was hungry, but she was more tired. “I’m just gonna take a quick nap.”

She pulled the sheets up higher around her and snuggled against his pillow. Terry stayed in the room with her, sitting in a chair in the corner as Tabitha closed her eyes, but she couldn’t fall asleep. She kept thinking about what happened in the bathroom the day before.

How was she ever going to be able to live in that house and feel safe? But she didn’t want to turn to Wyatt’s father either. Her mama would be so upset, and there was a bizarre side of Tabitha that needed to protect her mother. Lord knew she wasn’t capable of protecting herself.

And her mama was getting better. She had a job now.

If Tabitha could just find a way to endure her brother and his friends long enough, her mother would stop drinking, and everything would be okay. She wanted to believe it. Maybe if she had, she could have found some peace in her dreams, but she was awake instead.

She was still fighting the battle for rest when Wyatt came to the room.

“Get out, Conner.” Terry’s voice was low and defensive. “I already said you ain’t welcome.”

Tabitha blinked and rolled over, looking to the open bedroom door. Wyatt was leaning against the frame, holding onto the top of it with both hands as he stared down at her. His wide shoulders and impressive height filled up the whole doorway. Sometimes her mind had a hard time accepting this was the same boy who used to give her cookies every morning on the benches outside the school.

His blond hair was disheveled, his light eyes even more startling when they were rimmed with dark circles. He looked so stressed out and tired, it hurt Tabitha’s heart to see it.

“Do you wanna lay down with me?” she whispered.

Terry grunted. “Tab—”

“No, it’s good,” she interrupted him. “He’s sorry ’bout Hal. I know he is. Tell him, Wy.”

Sometimes Wyatt said dumb things, but his heart was always in the right place. She knew her hero. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt someone with no reason. He’d never tell the other guys on the football team about Terry and Hal, just like he never told his father about her family. She trusted Wyatt completely.

“I am sorry,” Wyatt said softly as his gaze darted from Tabitha to Terry in the chair behind her. “I won’t say anything, Dower. I promise.”

Tabitha held up the blanket to him, and Wyatt pushed away from the door. He toed off his sneakers at the edge of the bed and then crawled under the sheets with her. Tabitha took a shuddering breath when he wrapped those big strong arms around her, nearly smothering her with his weight, but it was okay.

For that moment, everything was right with Tabitha’s world.

Wyatt ran one socked foot up her calf and leaned over to press a kiss against the bandage that hid the cut on her forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a low, concerned voice against her ear.

She smiled. “I am now.”

He squeezed her tighter and then buried his face in the curve of her neck. “I love you.”

She reached for his hand in response, feeling his rough palm against her smooth one when she intertwined their fingers.

“I was so scared.” His voice cracked in emotion.

She blinked to fight the tears. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. It was my fault.” He pressed his lips against her neck. “I just wanna keep you here forever. In my arms. Safe.”

“I want that too.”

“I’m gonna fix it for you, okay?”

If she wasn’t quite so tired, she might have asked him what he meant by that, but instead all she did was whisper “Okay,” and started drifting off to sleep instead.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt the tension leave Wyatt’s body with her soft agreement.

Neither of them heard Terry leave.

Chapter Sixteen

It took Wyatt three full days to find Vaughn and Brett alone.

In any other circumstance, the wait would’ve been good for them, but instead it just let the fury build to the point that Wyatt’s entire being was wound up and desperate for a fight. Now he was well rested and antsy as he leaned against the side of the old trailer Clay used to call home and watched Vaughn sell drugs to Jason Wiltkins, who’d dropped out of school last year.

“Wait till Wiltkins leaves,” Clay whispered in his ear. “We wanted them alone. That was the plan.”

Wyatt grunted. He wasn’t sure he could just keep standing there after waiting this long.

“Wyatt—”

Wyatt shoved Clay’s hand off his shoulder, realizing he’d taken a determined step forward. Having his best friend along wasn’t part of Wyatt’s plan, but Clay was so damn hardheaded Wyatt finally gave up the fight. Tabitha was Clay’s friend too. He could understand Clay wanting to take a piece out of Vaughn and Brett, but the situation wasn’t ideal.

“I wanna do it,” Wyatt whispered furiously. “You lemme do this, Clay. You can’t afford to get in trouble. No one will take you in if you wind up in jail.”

“Fine.”

Wyatt turned back, arching an eyebrow at Clay in surprise. “Really?”

Clay nodded, his dark gaze studying Wyatt intently. “I’m just here to play backup.”

Satisfied, he jumped out from behind the trailer, ignoring Clay growling out a furious “Fuck” when Wyatt slipped past his grasp.

When he burst out from behind the weeds, all three boys turned in his direction.

“What the hell are you trying to give me?” Jason Wiltkins dropped the bag of weed like it was on fire. He backed up, holding up his hands. “I swear, Conner—”

Brett and Vaughn didn’t say anything. They took off running into the field behind the trailer park. Wyatt let them go and took a second to swoop up the bag of weed at Jason’s feet, because there was nothing but wide-open space in that field, and he knew he could catch them. He didn’t spend every afternoon running drills with the football team for nothing.

Brett and Vaughn both smoked cigarettes like chimneys.

They had no chance.

Wyatt wore his best sneakers and had forgone jeans for shorts on purpose. He flew across that field, feeling the wind in his hair and the blood pumping in his ears. He caught Brett first, which worked out perfect.

He wrapped a hand around Brett’s arm and jerked him back. It was sheer adrenaline that allowed Wyatt to hold Brett on his feet when the momentum of them both stopping so suddenly would have sent him crashing into the dirt.

Knowing he still had Vaughn to catch, Wyatt made it simple. He slammed his fist into Brett’s face hard enough to feel his nose break under his knuckles that he’d taped up before he and Clay left home.

Brett went limp instantly, his dead weight nearly dragging Wyatt down.

He dropped him instead and left him there. Then he went after Vaughn, who was at the edge of the field, almost to the road, but there was absolutely no way Wyatt was going to let him slip through his fingers after he’d spent three days waiting to get him.

He jumped at him, throwing his shoulder into the tackle. Vaughn shouted in pain when he ended up buried in the weeds with all of Wyatt’s weight on him.

“I didn’t fuck her!” he screamed as Wyatt wrestled him, fighting to get him on his back. “I swear, Conner, I didn’t—”

Wyatt threw the bag of pot at Vaughn’s face as he held him down. “You know what that is, Davis.”

Vaughn fought him harder, struggling to get up.

“That’s my fucking insurance,” Wyatt whispered in a low, deadly voice as he leaned down and got in face. “I ain’t gonna say anything ’bout you dealing drugs to my dad, and you ain’t gonna say anything ’bout what I’m gonna to do to you for hurting my girl.”

Vaughn broke one arm out of Wyatt’s tight hold, swinging at him, but Wyatt swatted the blow like it was an annoying fly buzzing near his face. Vaughn’s face contorted into a look of sheer fear as he shouted with a shaking bravado, “Get off me, you faggot!”

Wyatt suddenly didn’t like that word. Not when Terry and Hal had done so much for Tabitha. That put them on the short list of people Wyatt would gladly break the law for. He punched Vaughn before he could say it again, watching with satisfaction when his nose popped like a grapefruit hitting the pavement from the top of a tall building.

Blood covered Vaughn’s face. It covered Wyatt’s fist, but he didn’t see any of it because suddenly he remembered how fragile and scared Tabitha was the morning after Vaughn attacked her. The second time he punched Vaughn, he did it for Tabitha, and he did it twice as hard.

Then he was letting three days of agony flow out through his fist, hitting Vaughn anywhere he could. He kneed him in the groin, just because. He was about to get up and start kicking him until the bastard stopped breathing, but something stopped him. A big and mean something, with a lot more velocity than Brett or Vaughn could manage.

Wyatt blinked up at Clay when he found himself flat in the grass underneath his best friend.

“He’s out!” Clay shouted, his face flushed red from running. “He’s totally fucking out. He can’t even feel this shit!”

Wyatt kicked Vaughn in the ribs rather than listen.

Clay punched him, a hard right hook that had white spots dancing in Wyatt’s vision when Clay’s fist connected with his cheek. It didn’t help that Clay had taped his knuckles too. Wyatt just glared at him as he blinked past the pain. If Clay thought that was going to stop him, his best friend didn’t know him as well as he thought he did.

Wyatt kicked Vaughn again, wishing he’d worn his cleats instead. He threw all his leg weight into the attack, kicking him with both feet as Clay struggled to pin him down.

“I said stop, Wyatt!” Clay shouted again. “You’re gonna fucking kill him! You wanna end up in jail for murder, you stupid motherfucker?”

Wyatt raised his leg, fighting to look past Clay’s bulk. He nailed Vaughn’s face when he saw he had the right angle. He did it once more because it felt too good not to.

“Run, Wiltkins! Get someone.”

Wyatt stopped kicking Vaughn and turned his head, seeing Brett had gotten to his feet. He was holding a hand to his nose that was bleeding profusely. His words were garbled, but he was up and moving. Wyatt narrowed his eyes.

He’d forgotten about Brett.

He punched Clay, catching him off guard, and then struggled to get out from under him. Clay grabbed his ankle when he scrambled to his feet. Wyatt kicked him to break free, catching him hard enough in the face to have Clay grunting in pain.

He took off after Brett again, who screamed, “Fuck!” and turned back to the trailer park.

Brett tripped before he could get far. The first punch Wyatt delivered had obviously messed with his equilibrium. When Wyatt got to him, he kicked him in the ribs before he could get back to his feet.

Wyatt’s breathing was labored as the blood still pounded in his ears. He thought about all the years Tabitha spent hiding from this asshole who was supposed to protect her instead of hurt her. He brought his foot down on his face, dead center, just stomped him into the dirt, feeling bones cracking under his shoe.

He might have stomped on him until he killed him if he didn’t get tackled a second time, and this one hit him with such force he couldn’t help but whisper a choked “Ouch” when he found himself blinking up at Clay again.

His head had hit a rock under the weight of two hundred and ten pounds of raw determination to save Wyatt from himself. He continued to blink at Clay, seeing stars again. “There are rocks in this field, asshole. My head.”

“Oh shit.” Clay sat up over him, his dark eyes narrowed in concern. “Lemme see.”

Wyatt rolled to the side under him. Showing off the back of his head.

“Motherfucker,” Clay groaned.

“Did you get me?” Wyatt moved to touch the injury.

“Don’t fucking touch it.” Clay swatted his hand away. “You got Vaughn’s blood all over you. He could be shooting up for all you know.”

“What?” Wyatt fought to make sense of everything past the crash of adrenaline from fighting and the throb of pain in his head.

“Come on, get up. We need to get lost.” Clay got to his feet and then leaned down to help Wyatt up. “Don’t touch your head.”

“Is it bad?”

“It ain’t great.”

“Shit.” Wyatt turned to glare at Clay. “You were supposed to be my backup. How come I got another concussion thanks to you?”

Clay leaned in and gave him a look. “I was your backup. They’re both still breathing, ain’t they?”

Wyatt turned to look at Vaughn prone and unmoving on the field. Then he glanced back to Brett, lying there bleeding, with his nose crushed in and his eyes closed. “Someone should call my dad now,” he mumbled.

“Are you fucking crazy? You’re in some serious shit, Wyatt,” Clay said incredulously. “We need to go. Right now.”

Clay grasped his arm and jerked him forward to prove his point. Wyatt followed him, resisting the urge to touch the back of his head. The two of them walked past Jason Wiltkins, who was standing there shell-shocked at the edge of the trailer park.

“Your pot’s back there,” Clay said to him and then let go of Wyatt to take a threatening step toward the smaller teenager. “And here’s what’s gonna go down, Wiltkins. You’re gonna give us a ten-minute head start. Then you’re gonna call for an ambulance, say you found them like that, and you don’t know nothing ‘bout what went on in this field. When the sheriff starts grilling you for answers, you’re gonna look in his face, remember what my buddy Wyatt is capable of, and know I was the one to stop him. You think he’s scary when he’s mad, you ain’t seen nothing yet. I will bury you personally if you rat him out, and that ain’t a lie.”

Jason’s eyes were wide and horrified. “I believe you.”

“I sure hope so,” Clay said menacingly. “’Cause I don’t feel like digging a shallow grave for a worthless asshole like you.”

“I ain’t gonna say anything, Powers. I swear.” Jason’s voice was a low rasp of fear. “I ain’t never seen anything like that. Are you sure they ain’t dead?”

Clay cast a concerned look back at Vaughn and then wrapped his hand around Wyatt’s arm again. Wyatt followed him until they got to their bikes, but then he stopped and jerked his arm out of Clay’s grasp.

“This ain’t right, Clay. I’m supposed to stay and wait for my dad to show up. I did it. I should face the consequences.” Wyatt folded his arms over his chest stubbornly.

“No,” Clay growled at him as he got in his face again. “You’re gonna get on that fucking bike right now, and we’re gonna ride like the devil’s chasing our asses, ’cause I am not gonna end up in jail for those two assholes, and you’re not either.”

Wyatt shook his head. “You didn’t do anything.”

“The fuck I didn’t.” Clay let out a crazed laugh. “I could’ve stopped you a lot sooner than I did, and Wiltkins saw me just fucking standing there letting you do what you did. I’d be up as an accessory for sure, and don’t tell me you don’t know what that means, ’cause I know you do. Now shove your noble bullshit and get on the bike!”

Wyatt stared at him for one long second, contemplating what it would mean for Clay to get tied up in this mess. Then he leaned down and picked up his bike, willing to sacrifice his integrity for Clay rather than himself.

Turned out his best friend did know him.

Chapter Seventeen

“Damn drugs.” Tabitha’s mother cursed from her seat in the ER waiting room. “I knew dealing that shit would stick him here eventually. He’s lucky he ain’t dead.”

“Yeah,” Tabitha agreed softly.

“Hope they set his nose straight in this surgery. Fucking hospital. First thing they ask for is the insurance card. This is what I get for having a job and losing benefits. They’ll probably screw up on purpose, knowing we can’t pay for it.”

“I don’t think they’ll do that,” Tabitha argued. “The doctors seemed nice when they came out here. How bad does a nose have to be broke to need surgery?”

“Bad.” Her mother shook her head. “It looked like an elephant stomped on his face.”

Tabitha winced at the image. “Glad I missed it.”

“You should’ve seen Vaughn. He looked worse.” Her mother snorted. “He’ll be in here for a week, and you know Mary ain’t got a lick of insurance either.”

Tabitha couldn’t help the jolt of fear at the mention of Vaughn, and she also couldn’t help the rising suspicions that were building in the back of her mind. Finally she had to put voice to them and ask, “Do they know who did it?”

“No. And Brett ain’t talking. Can’t say that’s a bad thing. He starts pointing fingers, and he’s gonna have the sheriff on his ass when he figures out why they got their asses kicked. Better a broken nose than a criminal record. He’s already got that stain for breaking into the old Harver house.”

Tabitha nodded. “That’s true.”

“Oh, shit, speaking of.” Her mother turned to Tabitha, her brown eyes wide in panic. “You play it cool, missy. Don’t be saying nothing ’bout the drugs or—” She turned back around when Sheriff Conner got too close. “Howdy, Sheriff. You figure out what sorta criminal beat on my boy?”

“Nah, not yet.” The sheriff pointed to the empty seat next to Tabitha. “Mind if I sit?”

Tabitha’s mother made a sound in the back of her throat. “We’re sorta waiting to hear ’bout the surgery and—”

“I’ll keep you company.” The sheriff sat down without invitation and looked at Tabitha seriously. “Darlin’, you wouldn’t happen to know of anyone who had a vendetta against your brother, would you?”

Tabitha shook her head silently as she studied his face, seeing all the different features that were Wyatt’s. His nose, the shape of his eyes, his lips. There was so much of Wyatt there. Even if the sheriff’s hair was dark and his eyes were brown instead of blue, it was giving her a strange sort of whiplash.

“You sure?” he asked, studying her intently, the way Wyatt usually did when he was trying to figure out a riddle. “Violent crimes like this usually happen because someone’s got a reason to be really angry. This reeks of premeditation. Can you think of anyone who’d be mad at your brother or Vaughn Davis and plot to hurt them?”

Tabitha shook her head again.

“You sure?” he pressed again. “No one at school?”

Tabitha swallowed hard, thinking of one person, but she’d never say it out loud. “No, sir.”

“Has your brother been doing some things that could make someone upset? Like something to do with drugs? Or does he owe someone money? Gambling, maybe?”

“I think we’re done talking,” her mother cut in.

“I’m trying to help you,” the sheriff barked in obvious frustration. “I ain’t got no witnesses save one kid who showed up after it happened. Unless you can give me some leads or you can get Brett to start talking ’bout what happened, your boy’s in danger of getting hurt again. How do you know they weren’t trying to kill him? And how do you know they ain’t gonna try again? A little trouble with drugs is a lot better than being six feet under.”

“My boy doesn’t do drugs,” she said quickly. “He don’t sell them neither.”

“Well, he did something to make someone angry enough to break his nose.” The sheriff threw up his hands. “And Vaughn Davis has got four broken ribs and a nose that’s in worse shape than your son’s is, but neither of them seem to remember who did all that. I find that pretty hard to believe, Mrs. McMillen.”

“We don’t know anything. He’s got a concussion, in case you didn’t know. It made his memory foggy.” Tabitha’s mother shrugged. “But if Brett gets any ideas, I’ll be sure to call you up.”

“Concussions rarely cause memory loss.”

“Rarely don’t mean never, does it?”

“No, I guess it doesn’t.” The sheriff looked to Tabitha once more. “Are you okay?”

Tabitha nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

“What happened to your head?”

Tabitha cupped a hand to her head self-consciously to cover the green-tinged bruising the bandage didn’t hide. “I tripped.”

“On what?”

“The carpet.” Tabitha lowered her gaze, because looking at a face so much like Wyatt’s made it hard to lie. “I hit my head on the coffee table.”

“Really?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes, sir.”

“When’d that happen?”

“A few days ago.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Tabitha nodded again, making sure to keep her eyes lower as she mumbled, “Yes, sir.”

“What?” Her mother leaned forward, giving Tabitha a look of shock. “I didn’t know that. Who?”

“Terry Dower. He rides on the bus with me.” Tabitha turned to her mother and said, “He’s nice. I like him.”

“Wow.” Her mother raised her eyebrows, obviously impressed. “Hang on to that one. His mama’s rich.”

“Yeah, that ain’t it. No way that boy caused this much damage,” the sheriff grumbled. “I’m looking for someone a lot bigger than Terry Dower. Okay, I guess if y’all don’t got anything else to say to me—”

“We don’t,” her mother assured him.

“Then I’m gonna go talk to Connie Davis and see what she knows.”

Tabitha looked up at the sheriff, wishing she could tell him to stop nosing into a crime that might unearth something he really didn’t want to know about.

* * *

“Hey, Clay, you’re friends with Tabitha McMillen, ain’t ya?”

Clay glanced up from his food and looked across the breakfast table. “Yeah. Why?”

Wyatt watched his father take a sip of coffee out of his sheriff’s mug. He sat next to Jules, wearing jeans and a T-shirt since it was his day off. He ran a hand through his hair and said, “Her brother got beat up pretty bad yesterday. He’s still in the hospital. Vaughn Davis too.”

“Her brother’s an asshole,” Clay said quickly, covering up Jules’s choked sound of shock. “I ain’t surprised someone wanted to beat on him a little.”

Wyatt met Jules’s eyes, seeing they were wide and stunned. Her entire body was stiff. He knew without asking she had just figured out everything. She’d been hounding him since last night, sensing instantly something was off as he fought to hide a concussion that hurt like hell and a cut on the back of his head that Clay pushed ice into for two hours to stop the bleeding.

“It was nasty. Those boys are lucky they ain’t dead,” Wyatt’s father went on. “You got any ideas who it could be?”

Clay rubbed at the back of his neck as he considered him. “Well, I ain’t got any proof, but I’m pretty sure he does drugs. That’s probably it.”

His father sighed. “Yeah, I’ve been suspecting that myself. I mean, come on, that Davis boy shows up with a car when he’s sixteen, and everyone knows his mama ain’t got a pot to piss in. I know he’s dealing. Not like he’s working somewhere for the money. They think I’m stupid.” He turned to Jules, frowning. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Jules squeaked and looked back at her plate, her eyes still wide in horror.

“You ain’t eating.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Are you having problems?” their father asked in concern as he leaned down and studied Jules. “Do you need to go back to those doctors again? I know it’s uncomfortable, but you got to tell me ’bout these type of things.”

“It’s not girl problems.” Jules cheeks colored as she glared at Wyatt. “I just lost my appetite.”

“I dunno, missy,” he said skeptically. “I may take you up to Mercy with me today. I got to go back up there and check on those boys, see if I can get one of their family members to talk since they surely aren’t gonna help me out. Your friend Tabitha wasn’t all that helpful, Clay.”

Clay shrugged. “She’s shy.”

“I noticed.” Their father stood and walked to the counter. He poured himself another cup of coffee. “You know, she said she was dating one of the Dower boys. Terry, I think. Can you imagine? His mama is gonna flip her lid over that. That woman is so stuck up.”

“Yeah, she is,” Clay agreed. “Mrs. Dower hates my ass; that’s for sure.”

“Well, you don’t listen to folks like that.” Their father walked around the table with a fresh cup of coffee in his hand. He patted Clay’s shoulder affectionately. “You’re a good guy. We all know it.” Then he reached over and knocked Wyatt’s baseball cap off. “Too bad this son of mine keeps setting a bad example. Are we wearing hats at the table now?”

“We were.” Wyatt grunted and leaned down to pick up the hat to hide the wide-eyed look of pain that had to be showing on his face. The movement made his head hurt worse, and he couldn’t help but groan, “Holy shit.”

“What’s your problem?”

“Probably feeling Jules’s girl problems.” It was the best Wyatt could come up with considering the headache he had. “Sick vibe.”

Their father laughed. “Then we’re definitely taking her up to Mercy if she’s giving you menstrual cramps secondhand. That ain’t something you want the fellas on the football team to find out about.”

“I ain’t that sick,” Jules argued. “Do you have to go into work? It’s your day off. I was hoping you could take me shopping.”

“Sweetheart, I got to figure out this case and—”

“Please. You’re always working, and I miss you, and I’m stuck with Wyatt all the dang time and—” Jules let out a sob of misery.

“Okay, fine. We’ll go shopping. I suppose the county owes me a real day off.”

Jules smiled triumphantly, recovering from her bout of melancholy remarkably fast. “Well, okay, it’s a Ju Ju day.”

“Yeah, we’ll make it a Ju Ju day.” A smile sounded in his voice before he hit the back of Wyatt’s head again. “We’ll make it a Wy Wy day next week.”

“Great,” Wyatt choked, resisting the urge to reach up and cup his head protectively.

“What kinda trouble are y’all getting into today?”

“Probably just hanging round the rec center,” Wyatt mumbled, still reeling from the pounding in his skull that was so intense it churned his stomach.

“You can come shopping with us,” his father offered. “You could use a few more pairs of jeans. Clay, you too. Y’all grow out of your clothes faster than I can buy them.”

“Pass,” Wyatt said quickly. “I’d rather let Clay beat on me at the rec center.”

“I noticed you got another shiner this morning. Why do you two insist on—”

“He’s trying to make varsity wrestling,” Wyatt said before his father could finish with the lecture.

“I guess.” He shook his head and turned to leave the kitchen. “Get dressed, Jules; then we’ll leave. I just got to call the office real quick.”

Once he walked out of the room, Jules just looked at Clay and Wyatt across the table. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously before she asked in a low whisper, “I knew there was something wrong with you. How bad’s your head?”

“Really fucking bad.” Wyatt finally cupped it protectively and leaned down to press his forehead against the table.” Oh my God, I’m gonna puke.”

“What happened to it?”

“I hit it on a rock.”

“Was Vaughn holding that rock when it landed against that hard head of yours?”

“No, Clay was tackling me when it connected with my hard head.”

“To stop you from killing Vaughn Davis,” Jules surmised instantly. “You did it, didn’t you?”

Clay kicked Wyatt under the table, as if it made a difference at this point in the game. Jules had been hounding him endlessly since last night. There just was no way to keep this level of injury or stress from her.

Wyatt swallowed hard, his face still against the table as he admitted, “Yeah, I did it.”

“Wyatt,” Clay growled in disbelief and then kicked him under the table once more for good measure.

“You might as well forget it. It’s a twin thing. You wouldn’t understand. But she would’ve found out,” Wyatt whispered in defeat.

“Unbelievable,” Jules said in a voice that quivered on the verge of panic. “I officially don’t like this girl, Wy Wy. She makes you stupid.”

“That ain’t her fault,” Wyatt whispered because he couldn’t deny the obvious.

“Does anyone know?”

“No,” Clay said uncertainly next to him.

“No one?” Jules questioned harshly. “Don’t lie to me, Clay.”

“No,” Clay lied again, because they both knew Jason Wiltkins saw the whole thing. “It was just the two of us.”

“Don’t tell Tabitha,” Jules said as she stood up. “Don’t tell anyone. Y’all just keep your traps shut ’bout everything, and eventually Daddy will give up. Do you think Vaughn or Brett are going to say anything?”

“I doubt it,” Clay said with a snort. “He annihilated them. I’m sure they’re scared to death.”

“Then I’ll work on distracting Daddy today. We’ll make sure it all blows over.” Jules walked around the table and placed her hand on Wyatt’s head. He would’ve shoved it away if he didn’t know the action would hurt him worse. She just stood there for a long moment before she announced, “You’ll be okay.”

“Glad she thinks so,” Wyatt groaned when his sister turned to leave.

“I can’t believe you told her,” Clay said in disbelief.

“I can’t believe you thought I was going to be able to keep it from her,” Wyatt countered. “Have you met my sister?”

“I guess you have a point,” Clay said sullenly. “That sick vibe thing y’all do freaks me out.”

“Try it from my end,” Wyatt grumbled. “I wish I could see Tab today.”

“I think that’s one of your more idiotic ideas, and after yesterday, that’s saying something.”

“Let’s go to the rec center,” Wyatt said rather argue. “Maybe she’ll show up.”

“She does make you stupid, you know?”

Wyatt shrugged. “I don’t care.”

* * *

The strangest thing about the entire incident was Tabitha suspected Wyatt did fix the problem just like he’d promised.

Brett had been avoiding her like the plague since he’d gotten released from the hospital. At first she thought it was just the pain and the big bottle of pills he’d come home with, but those ran out fast, and their mother didn’t have money to take in him for more no matter how much he whined about it.

So he turned to drinking instead, which her mother was more than happy to oblige him with. She was a big believer in self-medicating aches and pains. Tabitha was starting to suspect her mother enjoyed the company, and it left Tabitha even more on the outside of her family because she wasn’t part of the club.

But she was sort of okay with it even if her mother and Brett were bonding over Jack Daniel’s. It gave her an excuse to be out of the house.

Vaughn showed up a few times once he was able to get around again, but he wouldn’t even look her in the eye, let alone say something inappropriate. That spoke volumes about what transpired, even if Tabitha never found out exactly what happened to her brother and Vaughn that afternoon.

“Do you know what a vigilante is?”

“Like Batman?”

Wyatt’s eyes were closed. His head was resting on her knee. His hands were tapping rhythmically against his bare chest as he lay sprawled on the mat in the middle of the rec center’s boxing ring.

“Mmm,” Tabitha agreed as she stroked his sweaty hair away from his face. “You wanna know what I think?”

Wyatt smiled. “I love knowing what you think.”

“I think you’re one,” she mused thoughtfully.

Wyatt blinked up at her. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I think you beat up the bad guys in your spare time.”

“Then who’s my sidekick?”

“You know who he is.”

Wyatt flattened his hand against his chest and laughed. “If you call Clay Robin, he will lose his shit.”

Tabitha giggled with him. “Tell me y’all did it.”

“No, I ain’t telling you that.” Wyatt’s grin faded. He looked up and studied her seriously for one long moment. “But I will ask ya if it did any good.”

“It seems like it. They’ve both been treating me like I’ve got some sort of infectious disease for the past four months,” Tabitha said softly as her fingers continued to run through his hair. “But Wyatt, you got to promise me you’ll never do something like that again. What if your daddy had found out? That’s what scared me the worse about that whole thing. The thought of you getting caught. I ain’t worth that.”

“I didn’t do anything, Tabby.” Wyatt’s eyes drifted close again. “You’ve just got a really fantastic imagination. It’s one of the things I like ’bout you.”

Tabitha finally dropped it. He never admitted to it. No matter how many times she asked him. Not once. It drove her crazy, but a part of her knew Wyatt was probably right not telling her. It was better she didn’t know the details. She just let them flourish and bloom in her imagination. They grew more fantastic with every passing day. She had even stopped feeling guilty for writing about her brother dying in the battle rather than ending up with a crooked nose and a taste for pain pills.

For some reason, in all the stories she’d written over the past few months, Vaughn never died in them. If he died, then the story would be over.

Heroes needed really terrible villains to battle, and in her mind, Vaughn was about as terrible as they came. So much so, she tried not to think on him too much. When she did she would remember villains like that always came back bigger and stronger in the second half of the movie. Maybe that was why she was so willing to sacrifice her brother in her stories. He wasn’t a villain; he was just an evil minion to something much more sinister.

“What kinda superpowers would you have if you were a vigilante?” Tabitha asked to distract herself from thoughts of Vaughn. “If you could do anything, what would it be?”

“I’d make pretty redheaded girls fall hopelessly in love with me.”

Tabitha giggled again. “You’re silly.”

“No, really, that’d be my superpower.” Wyatt opened his eyes and gave her a wide smile. “I’d wield it shamelessly.”

Tabitha arched an eyebrow at him. “All redheaded girls?”

“Nope.” He rolled on his side and slipped his hand underneath the cuff of her jeans. He caressed her calf and pressed a kiss to her knee. “Just this one.”

“Well,” Tabitha whispered as she stroked his hair and felt her stomach do that little flip it did whenever Wyatt was being touchy-feely and playful like this. “Maybe you really are a superhero, then?”

Wyatt lifted his head, staring at her in surprise. “What does that mean?”

Tabitha shrugged, feeling her cheeks heat as she admitted, “If that’s really your superpower, then I think it’s working.”

Wyatt’s gaze got hot as he looked up at her. Then he got on his hands and knees and leaned over her. Tabitha met him halfway, her eyes closing expectantly as he wrapped one hand around her neck and tugged her forward.

She moaned into his mouth when his lips met hers. His kiss was hard and confident, very different from the first one, because they’d been practicing—a lot.

They didn’t break apart until Tabitha was flat on her back on the mat, and Wyatt was lying over her. He pulled up, resting all his weight on his forearms as he looked down at her with his chest heaving.

“Say it.”

“Say what?” She panted as she fought to think after that.

“Say you love me.” Wyatt pushed her hair away from her face, studying her intently. “I wanna hear it.”

“I love you,” she whispered softly and then reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and tugged him back down.

He kissed her again, softer, gentler than the first time, but it was every bit as nice. Wyatt made everything golden. Life was beautiful around him, and she loved him for it. So much so, she wanted to stay right here forever and never open up another notebook. She wanted the story to end with this one perfect moment.

And they lived happily ever after.

If only she believed it was that easy.

Part Five

The Age of Innocence

When I step in the ring, I bring everything I have.

—Floyd Mayweather, Jr.

Chapter Eighteen

April 1996

When Tabitha was young, she believed in heroes. Cookies and kind words were more than enough to teach her how to see the good in people when she should have been as hardened as Clay by the end of her formative years. Despite the cruelty her life inflicted on her, she had been set to head into her teen years as idealistic and hopeful as every other girl her age. Then the egos of two prepubescent boys killed her romanticisms as quickly as they had once formed.

That should’ve ended it—but it didn’t.

Life got very complicated instead. Heroes turned into vigilantes, and villains became more real than she ever wanted them to be.

She read once that impressions made in childhood formed the basis for someone’s personality for the rest of their lives. Somewhere along the way, Wyatt Conner had been imprinted on her soul. The threads that tied them together were unbreakable and bone deep. No matter how desperately she tried to untangle herself from him, somehow it just ended up pulling them tighter together. What if she was destined to never get over him and always harbor that unrealistic hope of knights in shining armor and happily ever afters?

“He’s staring at you again.”

Tabitha looked up from her book, casting a glance across Maple’s One Stop shop, where she’d been working since last summer. She found Wyatt casually picking through the candy aisle that was conveniently close to the lottery counter where she sat waiting to ring people up. He was tossing random things into the basket hanging on his arm without looking at them. There was a bounce to his step, as if he knew he was causing havoc. His well-worn black T-shirt was stretched tight across his massive chest, because he’d grown out of it two years ago but hadn’t bothered to throw it away. His jeans hugged his ass, showing off his long, powerful legs, and Tabitha couldn’t help but stare. How very unfortunate that he’d grown into one of the biggest, sexiest eighteen-year-olds to ever set foot in Garnet County. It made a difficult problem even more challenging.

He sent her a wide smile as if reading her thoughts. His blues eyes sparkled even from a distance.

God was punishing her for something.

“He comes in here deliberately to mess with you. He couldn’t be more obvious ’bout you two if he tried.”

Tabitha sighed and turned to look at Terry, who was leaning against his mop, grinning at her. “I know.”

“Why won’t you just go to prom with him? You know that’s the reason he’s been pestering you at work more than usual.”

“You of all people should know why. You weren’t my pretend boyfriend for the first two years of high school for nothing.”

“You shouldn’t let Brett rule your life. You’re a month from graduation. Things are different. Y’all can have your own lives now.”

“Don’t you have a store to mop?” Tabitha countered because she wasn’t going to get into this argument when Wyatt was twenty feet away, causing trouble.

As if sensing they were talking about him, Wyatt came up to the counter with the basket in his hand. He set it on the counter in front of her triumphantly. “Ring these up for me, Miss.”

“This is the lottery counter,” she said drily and then pointed to the register where Sara was standing there bored out of her mind because it was nine thirty at night and no one was in the store. “But Sara would be happy to help you.”

“I have to buy something from you to be rung up here. Okay.” He looked over the counter, staring at the tickets on display under the glass. “Well, I don’t gamble. So what’re we gonna do ’bout that?”

“Seems to me like you’re standing in the wrong place then.” Tabitha set her book aside and gave him an annoyed look.

“You hear this?” Wyatt cast a glance at Terry. “Your employee’s being rude to me.”

“I’ll be sure to voice your complaint to my mother.” Terry laughed. “What’re you doing tonight, Wyatt?”

He shrugged. “Heading to work dispatch.”

“All night?”

“It’s the weekend.”

“Dang, you Conners are always working. Makes me tired just watching you.”

“I like working the late shift with my dad.” Not to be distracted from his original task, Wyatt pointed behind the counter. “How ’bout those? You can ring me if I buy a pack of those, can’t ya?”

“Cigarettes?” Tabitha gasped in shock. “Wyatt!”

“No,” he said quickly, pointing once more. “Those.”

Tabitha followed his gaze, seeing that he was staring at the condoms hidden on the bottom shelf. She turned around and shoved his shoulder. “Get the heck out of here.”

“Maybe I got a date later.” Wyatt laughed. “Jealous?”

Tabitha stiffened at the taunt. She narrowed her eyes at him for one moment, before she got off her stool. Two could play this game. “Fine. Which ones would you like?”

“I dunno. Can’t see ’em hidden way down there. Bring ’em up here.”

Tabitha’s cheeks were hot, but she bent down and gathered every brand of condoms they sold. Then she lined them up across the counter with exact precision while Terry laughed so hard the sound echoed around the empty store. She glanced up to see Sara was tilting her head to see what was going on and then covered her mouth and giggled.

“See any you like?” Tabitha asked in her most professional tone as she sat back down.

Wyatt leaned his elbow on the counter, appearing to be studying them with great interest. He picked up a box that advertised being ribbed for her pleasure. He turned the box, showing it to her. “You think that’s true?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Tabitha shrugged.

Wyatt gave her a long, hot look that stole her breath. “I could remedy that.”

“Oh my God.” Tabitha yanked the box out of his hand. “I am fairly certain you’re breaking several laws right now, not the least of which is sexual harassment.”

“I don’t work here. I can harass you.”

“You’re disturbing the peace.”

“No, I ain’t.” Wyatt’s grin was wide and mischievous. “I’m allowed to tease my girl.”

Tabitha cast a concerned looked at Sara, which was sort of pointless when Wyatt had gotten downright blatant about the two of them as graduation neared. “I am not your girl.”

“I got a hickey to prove otherwise. Wanna see?”

“Get out.” She shoved him once more for being as obvious as he always was when it was just the late shift on staff. “Right now. Or I swear, I’m calling your daddy for harassment or disturbing the peace or something else equally illegal.”

“Whose peace am I disturbing?” Wyatt asked innocently as he turned to Terry. “You feeling disturbed?”

Terry shook his head. “Nope.”

“What ’bout you, Sara?” Wyatt called out loud enough to make Tabitha wince. “You disturbed?”

“Heck, no.” Sara let out another high-pitched giggle. “You can come disturb me anytime.”

Tabitha glared at Sara.

“Oh, my girl’s getting jealous.” Wyatt looked entirely too pleased. “Say it again.”

“You’re crazy to keep turning him down,” Sara said without hesitation. “He is one fine piece of man.”

“That ain’t a lie,” Terry agreed under his breath.

Wyatt waggled his eyebrows at Terry, who blushed. Which would have been funny if Tabitha wasn’t quite so irritated.

“I’ll sell you what’s on that counter if she don’t,” Sara went on because she hadn’t heard Terry’s admission.

“You do it then.” Tabitha tossed the ribbed-for-her-pleasure package toward her.

All three of them just stared as it slid across the floor. It was an uncharacteristic show of annoyance for Tabitha, but Wyatt did that to her. He made her blood pressure go up whenever they shared the same air for more reasons than one.

She hopped off the stool.

“What ’bout my stuff?” Wyatt asked as if he hadn’t just been irritating her on purpose.

“Sara’s dying to ring you up. Let her do it.”

“But I want you to ring me up.” Wyatt picked up another package on the counter and held it up to Tabitha. “I think these are more appropriate, don’t you?”

She yanked the box of Extra Large condoms out of his hand and went to the small door that separated the counter from the customers. She unlatched it and walked over to Sara without meeting Wyatt’s gaze. She tossed it on the checkout counter. “Wyatt wants to buy these.”

Sara studied the box and then lifted her startled gaze to Tabitha. “Is that true?”

Tabitha turned to leave without answering her. “I’m taking a break, Terry.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Wyatt came up next to her and draped a heavy arm over Tabitha’s shoulders.

She shoved him, but he didn’t let go. He just pulled her tighter into the crook of his arm.

“You’re forgetting your groceries.”

“Shoot, I can’t eat that shit.” Wyatt laughed. “I got a boxing match next week.”

Tabitha’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Don’t you ever get tired of pestering me?”

“Nope.” Wyatt leaned down and whispered in her ear in a warm, seductive voice that made her shiver, “Pestering you is one of my favorite things.”

“Been doing it long enough.” Tabitha let out a pained moan, because the feel of his breath against her neck had made all the fine hairs on her arms stand on end. “I’ve been tripping over you since ninth grade.”

“Longer than that if we’re being honest.” Wyatt’s voice became warm and affectionate. “I’ve loved you since kindergarten. I saw that bright red hair across the room and I thought, ’someday I’m gonna marry that girl.’”

Tabitha rolled her eyes as they walked out the front of the store. “You’re delusional.”

“You wanna go make out in my truck for ten minutes?”

“Not if it’s gonna encourage you to come in here tomorrow and do the exact same thing,” Tabitha said in annoyance. “You can’t come into my place of work and cause trouble just for a date to the prom. I need this job.”

Wyatt laughed. “What’s Terry gonna do? Just ’cause Hal’s in the military now don’t mean anything. I’ve got leverage for life.”

Tabitha turned around and hit him. “You can’t keep holding that over his head. It upsets him. Four years is the point where you stop.”

“He doesn’t seem upset. I think he likes me,” Wyatt countered, completely unapologetic. “I could give Hal a run for his money if I had a mind to.”

“Why are you so crazy?” Tabitha stopped in the parking lot and frowned at him. “Have you told anyone ’bout him and Hal?”

“Just Jules and Clay, but they don’t count.”

“The heck they don’t,” Tabitha argued passionately. “Jules has got a mouth on her worse than yours, and that’s saying something. Why do you have to go blabbing things like that? This is his life we’re talking ’bout. The people in this town ain’t exactly accepting of things like that.”

“I told them like three years ago, and they ain’t said a word. They aren’t gonna tell anyone, I promise.” Wyatt pushed her against his pickup truck when they got to it, trapping her against the metal. His gaze darkened. “Let’s talk ’bout you and me instead. Are you going to prom with me?”

“No.”

“Maybe I need to convince you.” Wyatt leaned down and buried his face in the curve of her neck. His breath was warm, his voice husky. “’Cause I wanna take my girl to one dance before school’s done forever.”

He licked at the tender skin behind her ear. The rush had Tabitha closing her eyes. She sagged against the door, but he held her there, his strong arms wrapping around her as he pressed soft reverent kisses against her neck.

“Oh God.” She moaned, knowing he heard the defeat in her voice, because he pushed in closer, forcing his powerful body tighter against hers. She threaded her fingers into his hair and held his head there. “Wy.”

“Tell me you’ll go to prom.”

She used her hold on his hair to tug him back instead; then she stood on her toes and tilted her head back in an offer he took. She gasped against his lips when he kissed her, hard and possessive, forcing her to part to him when his tongue pushed into her mouth. The pleasure felt like liquid fire that slipped into her veins like a drug.

She never understood her mother’s constant need for the next drink until Wyatt kissed her for the first time on the side of the road at the start of ninth grade. Since then she’d been chasing the white dragon every chance she had, regardless of common sense that told her she was falling further down a black hole that would ruin both of them when they hit bottom.

Her mother had Jack Daniel’s.

Her brother had drugs.

Tabitha had Wyatt Conner.

“I really should buy a pack of those things.” Wyatt panted when they finally parted for air.

Tabitha bit her lip rather than admit she’d gone to Dr. Philips three days after she’d turned eighteen and gotten herself on birth control pills. She stopped thinking when she was with him, and she was practical enough to recognize the day might come when they’d end up doing more than making out in the parking lot.

Heck, that day had come. The hickey he was bragging about earlier wasn’t on his neck.

“Wyatt,” she whispered when she saw he was waiting for an answer to a not so subtle question. “You should get a real girlfriend.”

“I couldn’t do that to some poor girl when I love you like I do. I couldn’t even think ’bout doing something like that. It was different with you and Terry. It was just pretend. He needed you to cover for him as much you needed him, but with me it’d just be mean.” A frown marred his handsome face as he studied her quietly for one long moment. “You are my real girlfriend. Even if you won’t go to the prom with me.”

Tabitha reached up and ran a hand through his hair that she’d messed up in the heat of the moment. She savored the way the silky stands ran through her fingers as her heart hurt over the idea that Wyatt hadn’t once gone to a dance through four years of high school. It seemed so incredibly unfair to him.

“I think Terry will give me fifteen minutes.”

Wyatt’s smile was wide and pleased and more than worth dealing with him pestering her every shift. He reached around her and grabbed the door handle.

“Let’s get in back,” Tabitha said before he could pull it open.

She told herself it was because the two of them were out in the open in the parking lot of Maple’s, but the truth was it was ten at night, and no one was there. She just wanted to feel all of Wyatt on top of her. He always parked in the darkened corner, because this wasn’t the first time he’d pestered her into the parking lot. He did it nearly every shift.

Who said addictive behavior wasn’t genetic?

Wyatt grabbed her wrist with one hand and used the other to tug at the neckline of his shirt. He pulled it over his head right there in the parking lot and then tossed it into the back of his truck before he undid the latch.

Tabitha experienced that drowning feeling again as she stared at his cut, muscular body. He was constantly fighting with his weight, but not for the reasons most did. He had to keep himself below weight class to fight in the boxing circuit he loved so much, and he was always five pounds or less away from heavyweight, but he ran ten miles a day and lived off pure protein because he refused to step into the ring professionally against Clay. It could’ve gone the other way. The two best friends were built the same, with massive shoulders and imposing height, but Wyatt had opted to struggle with keeping himself thinner because he said Clay had gone hungry enough for one lifetime.

And she wondered why she couldn’t stop herself from falling head over heels for the man?

She crawled into the truck without hesitation. There were blankets to help with the hardness of it. They were dusty and smelled distinctly of the outdoors, which, Tabitha was fairly sure, was a scent she’d associate with making out for the rest of her days.

“Come here.” Wyatt left the tailgate open and crawled to her on his hands and knees like a panther, making her breathless with anticipation. “Tabby cats on top.”

Tabitha screeched when he pulled her to him and rolled onto his back. He didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath before he was fisting her long hair with both hands and pulling her lips back to his. She opened to him a second time, loving the way he took her mouth like it belonged to him. She swallowed his low groan. Her fingers dug into his bare shoulders. She straddled his hips, the material of her long, loose skirt pushing up to her thighs.

“I wanna get you off,” he groaned when he broke the kiss only to attack her neck. “I need to hear you before I spend all night sitting in front of that dispatch board.”

“Wy, no,” she moaned in complaint even if her body protested the argument. “I get all red and flushed when you do that.”

“I like you flushed.”

“Yeah, but I got to go back to work.”

“Leverage,” he reminded her, but her hazed mind barely heard it because his lips were drifting down to her collarbone. He sneaked his hand between their straining bodies and started tugging down her shirt. “Seems like you got an unfair advantage here.”

“Forget it. I ain’t taking off my shirt in the parking lot. You’ll have to arrest me for indecent exposure.”

“I got my shirt off.”

“You’ve always got your shirt off. Anyone with the ten bucks to see a circuit boxing match has seen what you have to offer.”

“Jealous?”

Considering the number of rabid groupies who went to those fights, yes, she was jealous as hell, but she wasn’t going to admit it. She kissed him instead, letting him slip a hand under her shirt as their mouths met over and over again in heated desperation. He shoved her bra aside. His thumb found her oversensitive nipple. She gasped against his lips and pushed her hips against his on instinct.

Wyatt dropped his head back and studied her as she moved against him. She leaned in and parted her lips, silently begging for the next breathless kiss.

“You’re already flushed.” Wyatt’s voice was low and gravelly with lust. She tried to capture his lips, but he turned his head away, denying her. “Let me do it.”

He didn’t wait for her to argue. He grabbed her ass with his free hand, forcing their bodies tightly together. The long, hard outline of his dick was straining against his jeans, and the way it felt pressed between her spread legs had her choking back a gasp of pleasure. He arched up, creating a wonderful friction that caused sparks of need to blossom and grow amazingly fast.

She kissed his neck as an outlet, forgetting to be careful as she bit and licked his warm, tawny skin. He turned his head to the side, giving her better access. Without realizing it she was moving over him, and he was moving with her as if their bodies had failed to notice they were still clothed. He was making those low grunting sounds he did whenever he started to get too turned on to talk.

His hands were everywhere, cupping her ass, under her dress, grabbing her thighs, inside her bra. Her shirt was pushed up under her armpits. Her breathing was sharp as the pleasure built and built but held in that horrible place between heaven and hell. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered telling him they weren’t going to do this.

“Do it.” His voice was a low growl of sexual agony. “Or I’m gonna.”

She shifted over him, trying to get the right angle, but there was too much skirt in the way, and maybe he was wearing the wrong jeans. The button-fly ones worked better. She huffed in frustration, because she was so close her entire body was vibrating with it. “I can’t get it.”

“Fuck it.” He pushed his hand higher up her skirt, finding the edge of her panties. “Sit up a little.”

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed up enough for him to get his hands between the two of them. When his fingers found her, hot and wet for him, all the air whooshed out of her. She would never get over just how good it felt to have Wyatt touching her there. The naughtiness of it made the back of her neck hot. The pleasure of it made her nipples tingle and her pussy throb.

He found her clit easily, and Tabitha had the off thought Wyatt knew her body better than she did. She hadn’t even known what an orgasm was until she accidently discovered it with Wyatt on a picnic one very hot summer day. She was so shocked when it happened, Wyatt thought she ought to sit down and have a talk with his sister, who apparently had a wealth of knowledge when it came to all things of a feminine nature.

Tabitha told him she’d rather gouge her own eyes out.

So Wyatt talked with Jules instead and practiced all his newfound information on Tabitha in a very distinctive hands-on learning style that usually left her as sweaty and breathless as she was right now.

His head hung down. Low, gasping moans burst out of her as he rubbed her clit in small, firm circles. Her fingers dug into the thick muscles at the base of his neck.

“Lemme hear you, baby,” he growled, making it obvious he was as close as she was. “Do it, and then I’ll let you watch me do it.”

Tabitha opened her eyes and looked at him in surprise as the excitement of that one statement shot a white-hot rush of pleasure spiraling through her body.

He studied her while he touched her, his eyes hooded and dark with desire. She could feel it pulsing off him in great waves of want, and the effect was humbling. He was so incredibly handsome. So unbelievably strong. He looked fantastic without a shirt on, and he always smelled really good with some addictive combination of soap and male. It made her want to bury her face in the curve of his neck and hide from life for the rest of her days.

Nearly every girl in their graduating class had asked him out.

But he spent his spare time hiding in the back of an old pickup truck with her instead. She didn’t understand it, but right then she couldn’t find a single reason to complain as the pleasure slammed into her with the velocity of a freight train, and she shouted from the force of it.

“Holy shit,” Wyatt groaned while she was still shaking over him. “I definitely need to jerk off after that.”

Tabitha fell over him, curling into the comfort of his big, strong body. He wrapped his arms around her, letting her come down from the high, but she could feel his cock straining against her stomach through his jeans. She knew it got painful for him if they fooled around too much without a release.

With her face still hidden, she moved enough to slip her hand between their bodies and touch him through his jeans.

Wyatt cursed and jerked under her. “Don’t, Tab. I don’t got time to go home and change.”

“What’re you gonna jerk off with?”

“My shirt?”

“And walk into the sheriff’s office like this?”

Wyatt shifted under her. His body was tense, his voice a low rasp of need. “I got to change into my uniform anyway.”

“What if I just—” She placed a kiss against his neck and then moved lower, kissing his chest.

“Oh fuck.” He arched his hips once more, clearly reading her intentions. “You sure?”

She lifted her head and confessed with a guilty smile. “I like doing it.”

Wyatt cupped her face tenderly. “I love you, Tab.”

“I know.” She leaned down and kissed the place directly over his heart that was beating hard and fast. “But you shouldn’t.”

His eyes were bright in the night, stark with emotion as he brushed her hair away from her face. “Say you love me too.”

“I love you too,” she repeated obediently before she moved down his body and showed him how much.

Chapter Nineteen

The noise in the house was blaring tonight.

It was putting Tabitha on edge, because she thought she was done with this now that Brett had moved out. He, Vaughn, and their friend Drake were renting a cabin way over in Mercy because they were sick of Sheriff Conner harassing them.

Most of the time Brett was gone. Now it was just Tabitha and her mama. Tabitha made sure the house was clean. There was food in the fridge, even though her mother was out of work. Tabitha grabbed the food stamps before she could sell them and often used her own money to make sure they both ate well.

But her mama wasn’t doing so great lately. She was drinking more than eating, even when Tabitha cooked for her. She was getting too thin, and it didn’t help when her family descended on the house, messing it up for Tabitha to clean later.

Why did they all insist on creating situations that were unhealthy for her mother? Couldn’t they see she was sick? Didn’t they know she was better when it was just the two of them?

“Hey, Tab, grab me a beer,” her uncle Jesse called from the living room.

She had the urge to grab a beer out of the cooler next to the refrigerator and throw it at his head. Instead she yelled back, “Get it yourself!”

“If I leave, these assholes will cheat me.”

Tabitha turned from the sink where she was doing the dishes, seeing both her uncles sitting in a semicircle with her brother, Vaughn, and Drake. They were playing Russian roulette with a popgun, which was one of their favorite gambling games. It didn’t take many brain cells to hold a popgun to their temples and pull the trigger. They could be as stoned as they wanted and still effectively shuffle around their cash.

She watched Vaughn hold the plastic gun to his head and pull the trigger. When it let out a loud pop that reverberated over the sound of Led Zeppelin playing in the background, he cursed, “Fuck! I’m out.”

“Yeah, you sure as heck are.” Uncle Jesse took the gun from him and picked up another popper from the stack next to him. “Hey, girly, you bringing us those beers or what?”

“When hell freezes over.” Tabitha turned back to the sink, positively fuming.

“What’s that?” her uncle Ace asked as he took the plastic gun from his brother. “Dang, Nancy, what the hell kinda host are ya? We’re growing parched over here.”

“I’ll get it for ya. I’m parched myself.”

Tabitha turned once more, watching her mother work on getting up from the couch where she had planted herself. She’d been happily watching a home shopping show despite the music. Tabitha supposed she didn’t need to hear what they were saying to admire whatever jewelry they were selling.

“I’ll get it for you, Mama.” Tabitha left the kitchen before her mother could get up. She stepped around her brother and uncles with distaste and grabbed the glass on the table. “Whatcha watching?”

“See, they got these aquamarine jewel sets here.” Her mother looked up, giving her a smile. “You think they’re pretty, Tabby?”

Tabitha looked to the television, seeing an attractive blonde woman modeling a pair of large, gaudy earrings with a necklace to match. “Yeah, they’re nice. How’re you watching it with the music so loud? You want me to turn it down?”

“Let Brett listen to his music. I can hear.”

“That makes one of us.” Tabitha cast her brother another dark look as she stepped over him.

“Ain’t we got some Jack?” her mother called out hopefully. “That vodka tastes off.”

“No Jack.” Tabitha went back to the kitchen and looked behind her, making sure no one was watching as she put her mother’s glass under the faucet that was still running. Then she worked on refilling the rest of the glass with vodka. “You want orange juice, Mama?”

“No juice.”

“Juice is good for you.” Tabitha put orange juice in it anyway, hoping the little bit of vitamin C might help make up for her lack of eating. “I’m gonna put some in.”

“Just a dash. You sure we ain’t got any Jack?”

Tabitha sighed, ignoring the question. She made a point not to grab any beers as she brought her mother’s drink back. She put it in her mother’s hand and then looked at her in concern. “You didn’t eat your dinner. You’ve got half a sandwich right there.”

“Not hungry.” Her mother took a sip of her drink and winced. “Ugh, Tab, too much orange juice. It’s like drinking water.”

“Yeah, I wonder why that is?” Vaughn laughed and looked at Tabitha, arching one dark eyebrow in knowing.

Tabitha ignored him and went back to doing the dishes. She felt a keen satisfaction when Brett finally had to get up for the beers, but even as she grinned triumphantly, it occurred to her that her life was filled with such small victories.

The music got to be too much, and Tabitha wound up locking herself in her room before she finished cleaning the kitchen. They would just mess it up anyway. She did her homework and then reached down under her mattress and pulled out her college acceptance letter she’d gotten a month ago. She stared at it for a long time, feeling her heart hurt when she realized she wasn’t going to be able to take advantage of it.

She couldn’t leave her mama.

She didn’t have the money.

And more than anything, she didn’t want to leave Wyatt.

She hadn’t even told him she’d applied, because he’d be stupid and noble and tell her to go. He’d probably even help her pay for it. It’d be different if he could come with her, but he was already planning on working full-time for his father once he got done with the police academy. She thought of asking him to go with her. She often fantasied about living in a run-down one-bedroom apartment near the college campus, but she wouldn’t be able to go through with it and ask.

Wyatt and Garnet went together like meat and potatoes. One was just not okay without the other. He was all the best things about her hometown. The only reason why she wasn’t bitter about growing up here was because of him.

She looked at the clock, seeing that it was past eleven. It was a school night. She should be going to bed, but she got up and unlocked her bedroom door instead. She peeked out, seeing that everyone was still partying. They’d be at it until the sun came up.

Then she walked out of the room, willing herself to be invisible to all the guys gathered around gambling. Her mother was sleeping on the couch, likely because of the bottle of vodka she had obviously fetched for herself once Tabitha left. For once Tabitha decided to leave her there. She grabbed the portable phone on the kitchen counter. A portable was one of the first things she bought after getting a job.

She sneaked back into her bedroom without fuss, making her feel like the gods might be smiling down on her this evening. She dialed Wyatt’s house, knowing the sheriff was on the late shift and was currently working until six in the morning. He’d switched his schedule so he could see the twins and Clay off to school, sleep while they were gone, and then have dinner with them in the evening.

It ended up being convenient for a lot of reasons.

“Conner residence.”

Tabitha winced, cursing her luck that had obviously just run out. “Is Wyatt up?”

“And who’s calling?” Jules asked in a falsely professional tone.

“Just gimme the dang phone, Jules,” Wyatt snapped before Tabitha had to answer.

“I was just asking who’s calling.”

“You know who’s calling.”

“Do I?” Jules’s voice would have sounded innocent to anyone who hadn’t heard this same game be played a hundred times before.

“Give me the phone,” he repeated in slow, precise words.

There was a scuffle on the other end, and Tabitha held the phone away from her ear when Jules screeched.

“Ow, goddamn! I will hit you back next time, I swear to God!”

“Do it! I dare you!”

“Give me the phone! Ouch!”

“My wrist! That hurts! Stop! I have judo tomorrow!”

“Drop it!” There was a loud thump, as if the phone had hit wood flooring. Then in the next moment, Wyatt sounded breathless as he said, “Hey, Tab.”

“Are you okay?” she asked uncertainly.

“Yeah, fine, what’s up?”

“I don’t think your sister likes me.”

“Oh, she likes you fine,” Wyatt said dismissively. “She just lives to give me hell. I can’t believe she decided to follow me to the police academy and then go to junior college. What shit luck. I thought she was going away for four years.”

“She’s really smart. She could go to a four-year college. She’s valedictorian.”

“She will. Just not right now. Dad’s down too many deputies. She’s gonna work part-time and go to school in Mercy for a few years. Plus, she’s training for judo so much she doesn’t want to leave. Her coach in Mercy is one of the best in the country. He thinks she has a shot for the Olympic team.”

“Really?” Tabitha raised her eyebrows, because she couldn’t imagine doing something as fantastic as going to the Olympics. “That’s really something. You think she can do it?”

“Probably, then she’ll be more unbearable than ever,” Wyatt said over the click of a door being shut. He made an umph sound as if he was falling back against his bed. “Maybe she’ll get a place in Mercy since she’ll be training and going to school there. She already spends a fortune in gas.”

“Eh, my brother’s living in Mercy, and he’s still here every chance he can get. He just steals all our food and toilet paper.” Tabitha rolled her eyes as she fell back against her bed as Wyatt obviously had. “It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.”

“Fucker.”

Tabitha smiled as she stared at the ceiling. “I tend to agree.”

“So what’s got you calling so late?” Wyatt asked curiously. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she said softly as she rolled over and held the phone closer to her ear. “Just missed you.”

“I miss you too.” Wyatt was silent for a long moment before he said, “Wanna come over?”

“Can I?”

“Yeah.” The spark of enthusiasm was hard to miss in Wyatt’s voice. “It’s just us here till morning.”

“What ’bout Jules? She seems feisty tonight. She might not look the other way this time.”

“Shoot.” Wyatt laughed. “If you only knew the shit I have on my sister. She’s been doing it since she was sixteen, and my dad would come unglued if he found out.”

“With who?” Tabitha sat up as her eyes grew wide at the controversy.

“Come over and I’ll tell you,” Wyatt said in a low, taunting voice.

“Luring me with gossip?”

Tabitha could just see Wyatt’s cocky smile as he said, “Whatever works.”

She had called him with the intention of getting out of her house, so she didn’t have to think too long before she answered, “I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”

“Awesome.” Wyatt sounded pleased. “See you soon.”

“Soon,” Tabitha agreed and hung up.

She dashed around her room and gathered up a change of clothes. She stuffed them in her backpack along with her books and homework for tomorrow. Then she slipped on her shoes and unlatched the window in her room. There was no way she was going to walk out there and announce she was leaving.

Usually it was just her mama, who was passed out by this time. So sneaking out was a little easier, but Tabitha had to get out of the house tonight. She just hoped they didn’t hear her start the car. It was a risk she was willing to take.

She crawled out her window and hopped down on the old crate she had set under her window a year ago when the sheriff switched schedules and started working until sunup. Then she reached up and tugged her window down from the outside.

The music was louder now, nearly vibrating the walls, and Tabitha finally found a reason to be thankful for it as she tossed her bag into the passenger seat and started the older-model car she had bought shortly after she turned sixteen. Some of the money came from her job at Maple’s, but most of it had come from Wyatt.

He had been stashing it away for ages without her knowing. Years’ worth of birthday and Christmas money that his father had assumed Wyatt spent on the worthless things teenagers buy had actually gone toward a car that gave Tabitha the freedom to get away from her family if she needed to. She really ought to go to prom with him. For a boyfriend who did as much as Wyatt did for her, she owed him that much.

She started her car, wincing as she did it. She looked at the front door uncertainly before she backed down the long driveway without headlights. She did it slowly, squinting in the darkness and hoping some poor, unsuspecting animal didn’t dart out behind her.

When she got to the main road, she flipped on her headlights and breathed a sigh of relief as she started toward Wyatt’s house. She left behind all her worries for the night, her body already tingling with excitement. She wished Jules would’ve gone to bed early and been out of their hair, but life couldn’t be perfect. Tabitha knew that more than anyone, which was the reason she clung so tightly to those small, perfect moments when they appeared.

She pulled her car into a clearing in the woods down the street from Wyatt’s house. Close enough to walk to and far enough away that if his father did come home early, he wouldn’t see it. Tabitha kept her headlights on as she grabbed her bag and wasn’t surprised when Wyatt knocked on her window.

“That was faster than twenty minutes,” he said when she opened her door. Then he leaned down and stole a quick kiss before she could get out. “If you ever get here before me, promise you’ll wait. I don’t like you walking alone in the dark.”

Tabitha smiled at Wyatt, taken with his chivalry as always. He was so very different from all those men she had left behind gambling and drinking at home. “Sure.”

“Come here, pretty girl.”

Wyatt grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the car, making her squeak in surprise when he gave her a real kiss before she had even found firm footing. She clutched her backpack with one hand and wrapped the other around his neck to stay on her feet. Then she parted her lips and swallowed his low groan when his tongue swept in.

God, he smelled good—warm, clean, undeniably masculine. His hair was still wet from a shower, his T-shirt clinging to his muscular chest. She pushed herself closer, wanting to be wrapped up in him. Kissing Wyatt like this, smelling him and feeling his strong, powerful arms around her, had Tabitha wondering how she made it through the rest of her day without being near him every moment. She stood on her toes and ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face before she tangled them in the damp strands, holding him to her for more. She slid her tongue into his mouth, enjoying taking over the kiss. More so she savored Wyatt’s low moan when he let her. She didn’t know how he did it, but somehow Wyatt made her feel stronger, more feminine and confident when he was near. Other boys their age would rely on keeping their girlfriends needy. Wyatt, on the other hand, went out of his way to help Tabitha be as independent and bold as possible.

There was something to be said about having a boyfriend who was completely confident in his masculinity. He didn’t need Tabitha to be needy in order to feel strong, and if she didn’t already love him more than air, that would have sealed the deal.

“Did you just get out of the shower?” she whispered against his lips when they finally parted for air.

“Yeah.” He nodded, sounding as breathless as her as he gave her a wide, shameless smile. “I was sort of hoping we were gonna get naked tonight.”

“Were you?”

“That was the plan.” His grin widened. “I even bribed Jules to go to bed early.”

“What’d you bribe her with?” Tabitha asked, because bribing Jules didn’t sound like an easy task.

“Two weeks’ worth of chores.”

Tabitha gaped at him in genuine shock. “That’s a lot of work. We get naked at least twice a week in your room. What’s supposed to happen tonight that we haven’t done a hundred other nights after Jules and Clay go to sleep?”

Wyatt stepped away from her and ran his fingers through his hair. He lowered his gaze, staring at the ground for one long moment before he reached out and grabbed her backpack out of her hand. “I’ll carry that for you.”

“Wy—” she started when he didn’t answer her question.

“Come on. Let’s walk back before you get bitten up.”

“Early yet for mosquitoes,” Tabitha mused as she turned back to lock her car door.

“Yeah, but they love you. They can see that pale skin of yours from a mile away. You glow in the night,” Wyatt said with a laugh as he draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. He leaned down, placing a kiss against the top of her head. “They must know you taste sweet.”

Tabitha smiled, deciding she could drop the twenty questions over Wyatt’s grand plan. She leaned into him as they walked down the dirt path, skirting the large lake to the Conner house. They were taking the back way, and she admired the way the big, old houses of Wyatt’s neighbors looked framed in moonlight. He lived in such a beautiful area. Each of these homes had a story and a personality all their own, and they spoke to her writer soul. Wyatt’s house felt more like home to her than that beaten-down shack behind the trailer park ever would.

“You taste pretty sweet too.” Tabitha broke the silence. “In case you’re wondering.”

Wyatt paused, his light eyes reflecting moonlight as he studied her. “You’re naughty tonight, aren’t you? I heard it in your voice earlier.”

“I might be,” she confessed, because she and Wyatt had learned to be open and honest about things like that. They had only ever dated each other. Everything they discovered, they did it together, and honesty helped make everything that much better. “Sounds like I’m not the only one.”

“Ah, no.” Wyatt tilted his head, being more blatant about looking at her as his gaze dropped down to her chest. “I’m feeling pretty naughty myself.”

“Two weeks’ worth of chores naughty,” Tabitha couldn’t help but add.

Wyatt laughed, sounding unembarrassed by his plotting as he opened the back door to his house. They walked in through the kitchen and found Clay sitting at the kitchen table finishing up some homework.

Wyatt pulled up short, frowning. “I thought you were going to bed.”

Clay held up his hands without looking up. “Just ignore me. Since when do I care what you two spend all night sneaking around doing?”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Wyatt shrugged. “Is Jules in bed?”

“She’s in her room. I don’t know if she’s sleeping yet.”

“Hey, Clay,” Tabitha said without breaking out of Wyatt’s hold. He was one of the few people who saw them together as a couple often. “I was wondering if you’d go with me to the prom—”

“What?” Wyatt cut in with a wide-eyed look of disbelief.

“And then we could switch dates when we got there,” Tabitha went on as she turned to arch an eyebrow at Wyatt pointedly. “That way I can go to one dance with Wyatt. I don’t think my mama would mind too much if I took you.”

“Well, who’s Wyatt gonna take?” Clay looked up from his books with a frown. “That means some girl would be stuck with me for the night.”

“There’s a lot of girls who like you,” Tabitha said softly. “You just don’t believe me when I tell you that. Sara from Maple’s is always talking ’bout you and asking me to put in a good word.”

“I thought she liked Wyatt.” Clay sounded completely mystified.

Tabitha shrugged and gave him a smile. “I think she likes most guys with big arms and nice butts.”

“God, Tab, you really are naughty tonight.” Wyatt laughed and pulled her closer as he looked over to Clay. “You’d do that, right? Switch dates. Go to the prom with Sara?”

“You really think she’ll wanna be stuck with me for prom?” Clay asked uncertainly.

“I am positive she would love to go to prom with you,” Tabitha assured him because Sara talked about Clay all the time.

“I guess.” Clay still sounded lost. “I’m probably supposed to go to one, right?”

“I think so.” Tabitha didn’t feel any more certain about it than Clay did.

“Yes,” Wyatt assured both of them. “You’ve got to go to prom before school’s over. It’s a rite of passage. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Tabitha didn’t really think she or Clay would regret it. Dances weren’t something either of them needed to do, but Wyatt had wanted to go to one for years, and he would never go with another girl. She wanted this for him—desperately.

“Thank you, Clay.” She placed a hand to her chest as she looked at him earnestly. “I’ll help you pay for your tux and—”

“Don’t worry. We got this.” Wyatt kissed the top of her head again. “I get to take my girl to prom. This is gonna be great. I promise.”

She tilted her head back and smiled at him, enjoying the pleased flush to his cheeks. “I believe you.”

Chapter Twenty

Wyatt locked his door and eyed Tabitha as she stood in his room with a smile on her face. He leaned back against the wood, letting his gaze run over her for one hot moment. He wasn’t ready to tell her he had driven to one of the small convenience stores between Garnet and Mercy to buy a pack of condoms—not yet.

Her red hair was tied up in a ponytail. Her jeans and green V-neck T-shirt weren’t anything fancy, but the way they clung to her slim body made his heart beat harder and his jeans tighten.

She dropped her backpack by his bed, and her smile widened. “What?”

“Nothing. Just admiring you.” He tilted his head, eyeing the way her shirt clung to her firm breasts and the curve in her waist. “You’re beautiful, Tabby.”

Her cheeks took on that pink hue he loved so much as she lowered her head and rolled her eyes to dismiss him. “Whatever.”

“No, really,” he went on, because it was important to him that Tabitha knew how completely gorgeous she was. “I dunno how I got so lucky.”

She laughed and gave him a look of disbelief. “You are crazy, Wyatt. You’ve always been crazy. Sometimes it worries me.”

“I’m fine,” he said confidently as he walked over to her. He reached out for Tabitha’s hand when he got close and pulled her to him. “I was hoping you’d let me make up for the other night in my truck. That was awesome.”

“You don’t have to make up anything.” Her cheeks grew pinker, and she would have lowered her eyes again, but Wyatt wrapped his other hand around the back of her neck, forcing her to look at him. She finally just shrugged in defeat. “I told you, I like doing it.”

He grinned as he looked down the neckline of her T-shirt, admiring the curve of her breasts. “But I like doing it too.”

“Well,” she started, a smile sounding in her voice that he didn’t see because he was still admiring her tits. “If you like it—”

“I do,” he assured her.

“Then who am I to stop you?”

“Well, okay, then.”

He smiled triumphantly as he tugged at the hem of her shirt and pulled it up to expose the white lace of her bra. He never got over the novelty of seeing Tabitha naked, and it was sort of his goal in life to get her that way as much as possible. She laughed when he pulled the shirt over her head and then tossed it aside. Then he reached for the button on her jeans. He slipped it undone before lowering the zipper.

“You’re not beating around the bush,” she pointed out as stepped back and kicked off her slip-on shoes.

Then she took over the task of pushing her jeans past her hips while Wyatt watched. She walked past him in nothing but her bra and a pair of small cotton panties decorated with blue polka dots and laid her jeans over the chair by his desk. She picked up her shirt, shook it out, and did the same thing.

Wyatt liked how meticulous she was with things. There was such an impeccable, precise air to Tabitha that was so very different from everything he knew. His family was brash and bold and usually leaped before they thought on things too much, so in his mind she was his perfect match. She was gentle and quiet, but Wyatt knew she thought a lot about everything.

Wyatt sucked in a sharp breath when Tabitha pulled out the tie in her hair, letting it tumble down her shoulders in brilliant red waves.

She turned around with a knowing smile. “Weirdo.”

“I love your hair.” Wyatt couldn’t resist the lure of it as he went to her. He leaned down to bury his face in the silky strands and breathed deeply. She smelled sweet and fruity, and it was turning him on like crazy. He wrapped an arm around her waist and nipped at the curve of her neck. He slid his hand down to her waist and then underneath her underwear. “Sexy panties. I like these.”

“I think you like them all.”

Wyatt couldn’t argue with that, so he didn’t try as he started nipping and licking at the soft spot behind her ear. He dipped his hand lower and slipped his fingers between her folds to touch her. He groaned and pushed his hips against her back, letting Tabitha feel the hard outline of his cock through his jeans.

“God, you’re wet.” He breathed against her ear. “It turns me on.”

“I told you I missed you,” she whispered in a soft, sultry voice.

He found her clit and rubbed it gently, making Tabitha’s breath hiss out of her before she leaned back into him. She dropped her head against his shoulder and reached up, running both hands through his hair.

“Make me come, Wy.” She shuddered, as if just saying the word was enough to make it a reality. “I need it. I’ve had such a shitty night.”

Tabitha’s reasons for a shitty night were usually enough to raise Wyatt’s blood pressure from the fury caused by Tabitha’s reality. So instead of asking about it, he just swept her up in his arms, making her shriek in surprise. Jules probably heard her, but Wyatt didn’t care. He was doing her damned laundry for the next two weeks. Let his sister think what she wanted.

He dropped Tabitha on his bed. Her legs hung off the edge as she lay over it sideways. Her gaze was hot as she watched him pull his shirt over his head. Then not to be outdone by Tabitha, he kicked off his shoes and did away with his jeans too. He kept on his boxer shorts to stop himself from getting too distracted. He did owe her a favor.

Wyatt fell over her, making her gasp in surprise and tense in fear, but he caught himself before he landed on her. His hands were braced on the bed on either side of her shoulders, his arms supporting all his weight. He grinned. “Scared ya.”

“No kidding!” Tabitha hit his shoulder playfully. “You’re a heavy paperweight.”

Feeling like his heart might burst with how much he loved her, Wyatt leaned down to steal another kiss. Tabitha met him halfway, leaning up and intertwining her fingers in his hair as she kissed him back.

He savored the feeling of her bare skin against his. When he did break the kiss, it was only to lean down and run his lips over her neck. He trailed them over her collarbone as he slipped one hand behind her back and fumbled with the hooks to her bra. It took him a while to get it undone, but he distracted himself with worshipping her. He followed the path of freckles on her chest down to the curves of her breasts, where they were fewer and far between, but he found the few still there and kissed them reverently.

He finally got her bra undone, and Tabitha helped him get it off. Then he was staring down at her beautiful tits that were smaller than some, but still nice and rounded. He cupped one, admiring the way it looked in his large hand. He rubbed his thumb over the pink tip, watching as it puckered and responded to his touch.

“Having fun?” Tabitha asked in amusement.

“Yeah, I love your tits.”

Wyatt leaned down to suck on one nipple to prove his point. He laved his tongue over it, and Tabitha moaned and arched into him. He spent a while licking and touching her tits, enough to have Tabitha’s skin dewy with sweat and her breathing labored as she started shifting under him. She trailed her feet up his thighs. Her fingers were still tight in his hair.

This was exactly how he wanted her tonight, wild and desperate for him.

Wyatt had spent years fantasizing about what it would feel like to have Tabitha wrapped around him, to sink into that tight, wet heat he loved touching and licking so much, and finally connect with her in the best way possible. He didn’t know why he was certain tonight was his night, but he was.

“Wy, please.” Tabitha used her hold on his head to push him lower insistently.

He finally abandoned her tits to move lower. He dipped his tongue into the curve of her belly button. He nipped at one hip bone. Then he tugged at her polka-dotted panties and forced them down her legs. Tabitha kicked them off and then spread her legs for him. Wyatt thought it was amazing he didn’t come right there. Seeing her like that, open and excited for him, without an ounce of shame, made the back of his neck hot and his dick so hard it was painful.

He cupped himself through his boxers as he fell to his knees in front of her. He was desperate to relieve the ache as he looked at the small triangle of bright red hair between her legs, hiding the pretty, pink folds of her pussy. He wanted to stretch out his seduction a little longer, but he couldn’t resist.

That first taste of her was purely indulgent. The way Tabitha let out the little gasp of pleasure that was genuine and unrestrained just made it that much sweeter. He lifted one of her legs and draped it over his shoulder. She scooted closer to him and then let out a squeak of disappointment when Wyatt pulled away. He met her gaze, seeing that her eyes were already heavy-lidded with arousal. She sighed when he sucked two of his fingers into his mouth pointedly and waggled his eyebrows at the same time.

“Naughty.” She grinned when he pulled them out of his mouth with a pop, but she also put her other leg over his shoulder, leaving her completely exposed to whatever pleasures Wyatt felt like indulging in. “What’re you hoping to get tonight?”

He touched her instead of answering, pushing one finger into her, studying Tabitha as she closed her eyes and tossed her head back against the bed. He took the time to work the second finger in too, because she was tight. It was one of the reasons they’d waited as long as they had to have actual sex, but Wyatt was convinced he could make it work. He just needed to take a little time with her.

He touched her for a while, sliding his fingers in and out, feeling her get wetter for him. Her body started to open a little, loosening as she yielded to the pleasure and let Wyatt do what he wanted.

“Mmm, it feels good, Wyatt.” She hummed as she pushed her hips against his hand. “I like when you touch me. So much better than doing it myself.”

“I know, baby.” He was riveted by the way she looked, naked and flushed, with her hair spread out on his comforter. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” She pushed her hand into his hair once more. “Please, Wy.”

He leaned down and sucked on her clit softly. Tabitha let out a keening gasp of pleasure before she covered her mouth with her other hand. He reached up and pulled it back because he enjoyed the sounds she made.

“They’ll hear,” she complained and then gasped again when he licked at the soft, wet opening to her pussy. “Oh God.”

“Jules’s room is at the end of the hallway. You’re fine. I like hearing you.”

Then he started licking her in earnest, flicking his tongue against her clit as he stroked her with his fingers. He wanted to focus on loosening her a little more, but the way she pushed her hips against his mouth and writhed on his bed was turning him on so desperately all he was really paying attention to was how good she sounded as she got closer and closer to climaxing.

He grunted against her when she suddenly pitched under him, her body shaking, her pussy quivering. Her soft, breathless pants of ecstasy washed over him, making all the fine hairs on his body stand on end. He was practically vibrating with need for her by the time Tabitha started coming down from the first high.

“I need you,” he confessed in a breathless rush as he admired the way the blush had spread down to her chest and the sheen of sweat made her face almost glimmer in the dim lighting of his room. “I bought condoms. We don’t have to if you don’t want to but I thought maybe we could try it and—”

“I know, Wy.” Tabitha reached down and tugged on one of his arms, urging him up. “I reckoned that’s what you were up to.”

“You did?” he asked as he crawled over her.

“Yeah, you aren’t exactly subtle.” She leaned up and pressed her lips to his. “If you wanna try it, that’s fine with me. You’re the one who’s been scared—”

“I ain’t scared,” he said defensively. “Just nervous. I don’t wanna hurt you. I’ll fucking die if I hurt you, and you’re too small, and I’m too big. That sucks.”

“We can go slow.”

“Yeah?” he asked as his heartbeat pounded in his ears. “You sure? I don’t wanna pressure you.”

“You’re not pressuring me.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “I’ll tell ya a secret.”

Even the lust pumping through his bloodstream couldn’t stop him from leaning in closer out of curiosity. “I like secrets.”

“I had Doc Philips prescribe me some birth control pills. Been taking ’em for over a month.” Tabitha’s smile grew wider. “That way it can be just us. I wanna feel you, all of you, with nothing in the way. We’ve had too much in the way for too long, don’t ya think?”

Wyatt was silent, his voice trapped behind the wild explosion of excitement. “You did that for me?”

“I did it for us.” Tabitha reached up and ran a hand down his chest, letting it stop to rest over his heart. She looked up at him, her eyes mirroring the same love and longing he felt. “I want it too, Wyatt.”

He nodded and said, “Okay,” because anything else was beyond him.

Wyatt kissed her, and Tabitha let him, opening wide to the thrust of his tongue even though he still had her taste on him. He didn’t know why he found that so incredibly hot, but he did. It made him lose track of himself as he dropped down, forcing her to bear most of his weight, but Tabitha didn’t seem to mind. She ran her hands down his back, tracing the muscles there as they kissed in hot, openmouthed desperation. He thrust against her, letting her feel the hard length of his cock against her thigh.

She tugged at his boxers in response, and he got the silent communication. He pushed them down, and Tabitha helped him get them off by hooking one foot under the waistband and forcing them past his knees. He finally managed to kick them off without breaking the kiss.

It was amazing how quickly things could get heated when they were alone, naked, and kissing. The warm, smooth slide of Tabitha’s skin against his. The soft sighs against his lips every time they parted for air. The way they moved and strained against each other. Wyatt was so far over his head with desire he likely would’ve forgotten his own name if asked. There was such intimacy about having Tabitha in his room, even if it was completely forbidden. It should have made him nervous, but it excited him instead.

No guy who loved being in the boxing ring as much as Wyatt did could deny being an adrenaline junkie.

Still he couldn’t shake the very real fear of hurting her. He had done the math a million times in his head, and he knew it was probably going to be difficult. He slipped a hand between their straining bodies and touched her again, hoping to somehow make her first time easier. He wanted it to be good for both of them.

“Heck,” Tabitha moaned and broke the kiss when he started rubbing his fingers against her clit in earnest. “You keep doing that, and we’re gonna wind up sidetracked.”

Actually, they were on the right track, but Wyatt didn’t tell her that. Instead he just kept touching her as he worked on trying to kiss every freckle he could find on her chest and the curve of her breasts. Tabitha clutched at the sheets. She tossed her head on the bed, and it didn’t take her long to come a second time. For someone who was outwardly reserved, she was actually a very responsive partner. Wyatt felt like it was his secret, something he knew about Tabitha that no one else did.

While she was still shaking with her orgasm, Wyatt pushed his fingers into her again, making her moan and move her hips against him, but her actions were languid. He could feel that all the tension had drained out of her body.

“God, you’re good.” Tabitha’s eyes were closed as she gave him free rein over her body. “I feel so amazing right now.”

“You look amazing too,” Wyatt couldn’t help but choke out as he looked down at her. He wasn’t nearly as relaxed as Tabitha. “Move up a little. Toward the pillow so we’re not both hanging off the bed.”

Tabitha blinked up at him and then gave him a slow, lazy smile, making it obvious she knew what he was really asking for. He returned her smile when she pushed back on the bed and made the shuffle to lay her head on the pillow. Wyatt moved with her and draped himself over her again. He rested all his weight on one hand and brushed the sweaty hair off her temples with the other.

“I wanna go to bed every night for the rest of my life looking down at you like this, all flushed and sexy and relaxed,” he admitted quietly. “I’m gonna get you out of that house and—”

“Let’s worry ’bout today instead of tomorrow.” Tabitha interrupted him by placing her fingers against his lips. “Right now. This moment. The only thing that matters is me and you. Now are you gonna make me yours or what?”

He smiled against her fingers. “Is that a dare?”

Tabitha arched an eyebrow in challenge. “It sure as heck is.”

He laughed and leaned in to kiss her yet again. At the same time he reached down between her folds, feeling her one more time before he decided it was now or never. Tabitha was about as relaxed as she was going to get. He shifted his hips and ran a hand down her thigh.

“Put ’em around me.” He breathed into her mouth and then groaned when she did as asked and cradled Wyatt between her legs. “I could die a happy man. This is the place I like to be.”

“You are always yapping.” Tabitha giggled. “I’m ’bout to agree with Clay’s complaints over it.”

“Hush, you like my yapping.” Wyatt took himself in hand and looked down to their bodies, so close together yet so far. He studied his large hand wrapped around his cock and admitted, “I’m nervous, Tab. What if it hurts you?”

“Oh, jeez.” Tabitha reached between them and covered his hand with hers. “Lemme do it, okay?”

Wyatt nodded and let go so Tabitha could guide him into her. He liked the way her hand looked wrapped around his dick. He moved his hips a little. Tabitha spread her legs wider, and then Wyatt’s breath caught when he felt her warm and wet against the head of his cock.

“Fuck.” He clenched his teeth against the tidal wave of lust that slammed into him.

Everything in him wanted to push forward and just drown himself in her, but he went slow, feeling her soft body wrap around his hard one. He rested his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut to fight the pleasure that was slowly tearing away at his ability to form rational thought.

“Oh, Wy.” Tabitha released him to put her hands over her head. She held on to the headboard, using her hips now to bring them closer together. “This feels a heck of a lot better than your fingers.”

“Yeah?” Wyatt was breathless, his voice low and raspy at the feeling of being halfway in her. “Feels good?”

“God, yes.” She shifted under him with a low moan. “Push in a little bit.” She squeaked when he did it. “Shit!” she panted. “We fit.”

“Yeah.” He kissed her temple. “Sorta.”

“Yeah, sorta,” she agreed. Her breathing was as sharp and irregular as his. “Just a little more.” She moaned and arched her back. “God.”

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter to fight the carnal need to start moving. “It’s a fucking miracle I haven’t come from just this.”

“It feels good to you too?”

Wyatt didn’t know why Tabitha sounded so surprised by it. “I don’t think I’ve felt anything better in my whole fucking life. I don’t even think I could imagine something feeling this good before right now.”

“Just—” Tabitha was still shifting under him, arching her hips up impatiently. “Just do it. All the way. One time.”

“I can’t. I feel something.” Wyatt wrapped one hand around her hip to stop her from moving under him. “Maybe we should stop—”

“Just do it!” Tabitha demanded in a rare show of frustration. “Now.”

Wyatt did it.

He used his hold on her waist to move forward but then stopped suddenly when Tabitha screamed. There was a white-hot wash of fear that rolled down his spine, and he pushed up and looked down at her in horror. She had cupped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wide.

“I hurt you,” he said in panic.

Tabitha shook her head quickly and took a sharp, hard breath before she moved her hand and squeaked, “No, it’s okay.”

“I don’t think it’s okay.” Wyatt tried to pull away, but Tabitha wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. “Oh, shit. I’m an asshole.”

“Shhh.” She took another shuddering breath. “I think it’s better now. It’s fading. I’m fine. We knew it was supposed to hurt.”

“But, I didn’t want it to hurt.” Wyatt tried again to pull away. “Are you bleeding? Jules said—”

“Just shh,” she whispered and put her fingers against his lips again. “You’re here, Wy. Lemme feel you for just a little bit. Come closer.” She relaxed under him and trailed her bare feet up the backs of his legs. “Slow.”

“O-okay.”

Wyatt followed Tabitha’s lead by taking a cooling breath and then made a valiant attempt to let some of the tension flow out of his body. He couldn’t deny it felt amazing to be in her. There was a little voice in the back of his mind chanting move, but he ignored it because this was his girl, and the last thing in the world he wanted to do was hurt her.

“I love you,” he whispered against her temple. “I wish it could hurt me instead of you.”

“I know.” She stroked a hand through his hair. “Just once, and it’s over now. That means we can do this whenever we want.”

“Really?” Wyatt couldn’t help the hopeful pitch in his voice. “You know I want it pretty much all the time, right? Probably not in your best interest to be telling me that. ’Specially right now. You do feel incredible.”

She laughed, which made Wyatt laugh, and somewhere along the way he ended up the rest of the way in, with her hips flush against his. He was suddenly so wrapped up in the warm, wet feel of Tabitha he knew he was going to look back on this night forever and know this was the first, perfect moment when he found out what heaven felt like.

“Kiss me,” she said softly when their laughter subsided.

Wyatt cupped her face and kissed her, gentle and reverent as he tried to remember everything about Tabitha as she was right now. “I love you so fucking much,” he whispered against her lips as he recovered from the shock of hurting her and started to really savor what the two of them were doing. “This is—” He kissed her again. “God.”

“Yeah,” Tabitha agreed and then let out a small moan as she nudged her hips against his. “I wonder what would happen if you touched me when we were like this. It always feels so good when you use your fingers and—” She stopped when Wyatt reached between them to find out. He found her clit and traced his finger in a small circle around it, making her gasp and jerk her hips. “Oh.”

“Shit,” he panted over her. “I can feel you move when—”

She tossed her head back and jerked her hips once more. “Heck, Wy. It’s good. It’s really good.”

He could feel her pussy clamping around him from the pleasure, and it was making everything a thousand times more intense. Now he was a lot more motivated with his touch. He rubbed her clit in firm, tight circles, and soon Tabitha’s breath was bursting out of her in sharp, hard pants of bliss, and he could feel her quivering both inside and out.

Wyatt had never been more turned on in his life.

When Tabitha climaxed with a shout, milking him from the intensity of it, he couldn’t help but move. He pulled out and pushed back in while she was coming, and instead of ruining the orgasm, it seemed to prolong it. Her fingers dug into his shoulders; her legs wrapped around him. She moved her hips with his as if compelled by that same hard driving force to reach for pleasure, to ride the tide for the next high that they knew instinctively was stronger, sweeter, and infinitely more intense.

Wyatt buried his face in the curve of her neck. He fisted the sheets and fought not to completely lose his head and take her as hard as his body was demanding. He wanted to claim her. Own her. Leave his mark on her. It was a raw, primal moment for Wyatt. He’d always known he loved her, but until now he hadn’t understood just how desperately he wanted to push her down on the bed and fuck her until he went blind from the pleasure of it.

It completely hazed his thinking, so much so it scared him.

Rather than give in, he just promised himself soon. Tabitha said they could do this whenever they wanted, and Wyatt hadn’t been joking when he said he was going to want this all the time.

If he hadn’t already been plotting ways to get Tabitha naked and under him as much as possible, the feeling of Tabitha coming a second time would have done him in. The shock of it tore a shout from Tabitha before she bit down hard on his shoulder to hold back the choking sobs of pleasure.

She dragged Wyatt down with her. He couldn’t have held himself off for all the money in the world, not when Tabitha was quivering and moaning from the bliss of his cock in her. It was enough to drive him insane.

Wyatt had to stop himself from biting like she did when the ecstasy sprang free, flowing into his arms and legs as he moved over her and his cock pulsed to the rhythm of his release.

He never came so hard in his entire life.

The two of them were shaking and panting for a long time after it was over. Pleasure that intense took a long time to wane, and they rode out the storm together. Wyatt eventually had the common sense to support some of his weight on his arms, but he wasn’t ready to pull out and leave her.

When he did open his eyes, he saw a small line of sweat rolling down the curve of her neck, and he licked at it, hungry for the salty-sweet taste of adrenaline on her.

Tabitha shivered, but she still teased, “Weirdo.”

“You love me.” He licked at her neck again, dragging his tongue all the way up to her ear and then whispering, “Don’t ya?”

“So much.” She stroked her hands down his broad back that was a lot sweatier than she was.

“You wanna take a bath?”

She winced. “That’d probably be best.”

Wyatt was careful with pulling out of her, but still she winced. Tabitha was embarrassed she was bleeding, but he was more concerned with her being hurt than the rest of it.

He left her on the bed and then turned on the faucet for the tub in his bathroom. He cleaned himself while he waited for it to fill up, because he didn’t want to alarm her. Then he carried her to the bath despite her protests against it. Tabitha eased into the warm water with a sigh. Her head rested back against the rim, with her hair floating in the water in red waves.

“When we buy a house together, I’m gonna make sure we have a tub we can both fit in.” Wyatt sat down on the bathmat and leaned against the rim. “Bathing with you sounds like fun.”

“It’d have to be a pretty darn big tub.” Tabitha turned to him with a smirk. “You probably can’t even fit into this one by yourself.”

“I haven’t tried in a long time. I usually just shower.” Wyatt shrugged. “So the prom…”

Tabitha snorted. “I was wondering when you were gonna remember that.”

“I’m gonna get a limo and—”

She swatted his arm. “Oh hush, we don’t need all that.”

“I’m gonna make it a night you’ll never forget.”

“Like tonight.” She ran her fingers up his arm, smoothing the place she hit. “It was perfect, Wy. Thank you.”

“It was perfect, wasn’t it?” Wyatt leaned in and stole another kiss.

She gave him a wide, pleased smile. “It really was.”

Part Six

The End of Innocence

A good fighter usually knows, to within a very few seconds, when a three-minute round is going to end.

—Jack Dempsey

Chapter Twenty-One

July 1999

After that one amazing night, life fell into a comfortable and pleasant routine for Wyatt and Tabitha. Things were easy and uncomplicated, and for the most part Wyatt entered into his early twenties as a very happy man.

Once they graduated, Wyatt went away to the police academy, and Tabitha stayed in Garnet, but fortunately for them, it only took him four months to finish. That had been a long, hard time for both of them, and even having his sister there with him didn’t make it any easier to be separated from Tabitha when they had been inseparable for years.

But he made it through and was able to go back home to his girl.

Then Wyatt worked, and Tabitha worked, and in between they found time to do it as often as possible, just like she had promised. The one downside was they had made such a habit of keeping their relationship secret, they still hadn’t told her mother or his father that they had been madly in love for years now and were likely going to get married one of these days.

“Are you actually gonna watch the fight tomorrow?” Wyatt asked as he came out of the bathroom in the Chicago hotel room they had rented for the next three nights.

“I’ll be there. Peeking at it through my fingers.” Tabitha grimaced from her place on the bed where she sat reading. She set her book on the nightstand and frowned at him. “Why can’t you go back to boxing?”

“MMA is more challenging. Anyone can dominate a boxing ring, but it takes a real athlete to rule the cage.” Wyatt shrugged. “And Clay loves it. If ever there was a sport for a man who loves their ground game as much as him, MMA is it. You know, Jasper thinks we could both get UFC contracts by next year, maybe sooner. Wouldn’t that be something? Those fellas make so much money. I’ll buy ya a house. A big one and—”

“Wy, I don’t need a house. Why are you always trying to buy me things?”

“Fine, I’ll buy me a big house and then force you to live in it.”

She rolled her eyes. “And what’s your daddy gonna think of you living in a big house with me?”

“I think I’m twenty-one years old, and it don’t really matter what my daddy thinks ’bout it,” Wyatt said sarcastically. “And it matters even less what your mama thinks, ’cause between you and me—”

“Don’t.” Tabitha cut him off. “She’s sick, Wyatt. You have to remember that.”

“So you’re just gonna waste away in that place, taking care of your mama until she drinks herself to death? Is that what you really want for yourself?”

“Please.” There was a wild thread of desperation in Tabitha’s voice that was common whenever the subject of her mother came up. “Don’t ruin our night. You rented this fancy hotel room. I wanna enjoy it, not fight with you.”

“What does your mama think ’bout you coming to all my fights?”

“I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m dating Clay.” Tabitha grimaced. “That’d be like doing it with my brother. Still, convenient that your fights are usually on the same night as his. Do you ever get jealous Clay’s are the last ones of the night?”

Wyatt shook his head. “Nah, I like letting him be last. He deserves the glory.”

“Then why do you do it?” Tabitha asked with a frown. “You’re always on a dang diet. You never get to eat ’cause you’re fighting in a weight class you’re too big for. I don’t understand why if you ain’t after the glory.”

“Bloodlust.” Wyatt showed his teeth in one of those mock fighter grimaces that always graced posters.

Tabitha giggled. “You are crazy. You’ve always been crazy, and spending all your vacation time and days off traveling across the country for this MMA stuff sure ain’t helping the cause.”

“I do it to get you away from Garnet and have you all to myself.” Wyatt tossed his towel aside and crawled onto the bed. “And I make more off the fighting than I do working for my dad, just so you know. A lot more.”

“And what’re you gonna do with all that hard-earned money?” Tabitha arched an eyebrow up at him when he stopped to hover over her.

“Spoil my girl rotten.”

She hit his arm. “Crazy.”

“Crazy sexy.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Admit it.”

“Well, I sure ain’t denying it.” She tilted her head, letting her gaze run over him for one long moment. “Might as well enjoy what you got to offer since you’ll probably come back to me bruised and battered tomorrow.”

“Hey, now, don’t be underestimating me. I got this guy. Easy.” Wyatt was more than confident about the fight tomorrow. “If I can take Clay, I can surely take him.”

“Yeah, but you can’t take Clay. I’ve seen him beat you plenty of times.”

“It’s fifty-fifty.” Wyatt frowned down at her. “You doubting my abilities?”

“I think you’re cocky,” she countered. “Scares me sometimes.”

“That’s a personal insult.” Wyatt grabbed both her hands before she could move to deflect him. Then he fell down on top of her, pinning her with his weight. “I may have to punish you for that.”

Tabitha screeched and fought his hold when he leaned down and licked at the curve of her neck. She shivered because her neck had always been extrasensitive. “Stop!” She giggled. “It tickles.”

He pulled aside her nightgown—a long, silky green one he had bought her for Christmas last year. Then he leaned down and sucked one taut pink nipple, making Tabitha gasp and arch under him.

“Now say sorry,” he said with a grin when he lifted his head.

Her breathing was already low and raspy, but she still managed to quirk an eyebrow at him. “What do I get if I do?”

“Say it and find out.”

“I’m sor—” Tabitha stopped abruptly when Wyatt kissed her before she could finish apologizing.

He forced her nightgown up past her hips while they kissed. Then he pulled back to tug it over her head. He groaned as he looked down at her. She was naked save a pair of skimpy panties. “Oh, baby, you are so hot. I’m gonna fuck you all night long.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to have sex before a fight.”

“Who told you that?” Wyatt asked and then kissed her again before she could answer.

This wasn’t the first time they’d done it since they got to Chicago, so slow seduction was shoved to the wayside in the name of hard driving need and desperation. He was feeling aggressive with the excitement of the coming fight, and Tabitha met him step for step as he pushed off her panties and then took her in one hard thrust while holding her hands above her head.

Tabitha bowed to the pleasure, shouting his name when her eyes slammed shut. Then she wrapped her legs around his hips and moved with him, as with each hard thrust Wyatt loved her and took from her and gave all of himself in the process. The whole time he kept her pinned down, and she didn’t fight his domination of her, which turned him on even more.

His strokes were powerful and fast. Their breathing was harsh between choked cries of bliss. Tabitha stiffened under him; then a shudder seized her entire body as she came with long, surrendering moans of pleasure. He could have held out longer, but hearing her had Wyatt reaching for her beneath the veil of ecstasy. He bit his lip when the coil sprang free, and the warm, tingling feeling of his orgasm spread through his body, taking the last of his tension with it.

When it passed, both their chests heaved. Wyatt leaned his forehead against hers and swept his thumb over her wrist where he was still holding her down. Then he became gentler, placing kisses against her cheeks, her temple, and then down to her ear before he sucked one tender lobe into his mouth. Tabitha was the only girl he knew who didn’t have her ears pierced, and he liked it like that.

Tabitha slipped her hands from out of his steely grasp when it loosened. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back that was sweaty again despite his shower. Then she wrapped her arms around him, holding on to him tightly. “You make sure you beat this fella you’re fighting tomorrow. I don’t want you getting hurt. Promise?”

He pushed up and gave her a wide smile. “I promise.”

* * *

Wyatt’s sister came to a lot of the fights, but not all of them. Jules’s life was even more hectic than Wyatt’s. She was competing all the time in judo, working at the sheriff’s department, and in between all that somehow studying for a law degree.

It was little wonder Tabitha and Wyatt’s sister had never hit it off. Jules probably thought Tabitha was the laziest person on earth for simply working at Maple’s and taking care of her mama. The rest of Tabitha’s life sort of revolved around Wyatt. It wasn’t a bad reality. It was what most people did, just lived and loved and got by, but Tabitha couldn’t help but feel unaccomplished when she was around Jules, who was far too ambitious to be human.

Which was the reason Tabitha was very happy the Chicago fight was one Jules had to skip for her own competition in California. It made a far more relaxed atmosphere for all of them. Tabitha went out to eat twice with Clay, Wyatt, and their coaches before the fight on Saturday night. She didn’t get to eat out much, so she really enjoyed it.

Clay and Wyatt’s fights were always like a little adventure for Tabitha. She would’ve likely been one of those people who lived out their whole life without leaving her hometown if wasn’t for Wyatt insisting she was his good luck charm and bringing her along.

Yet, even with the adventure, when it came time to watch Wyatt’s fight, Tabitha found herself sitting front and center, invisible in a sea of drunk, violent hungry men and squealing fight groupies. She had learned to dress simply in jeans and a T-shirt, so she fit in but wasn’t prone to draw attention to herself. She deliberately didn’t wear makeup and tied her hair back in a bun to hopefully detract from the bright color that she knew made her stand out.

She still got some unwanted attention, but Tabitha was good at nothing if not being aloof and silent until the drunk assholes moved on to one of the girls who were a little more outgoing and open to being hit on. She had sat through three fights already that night, and each one was bloody and painful to watch. MMA was very different fighting than boxing. Wyatt and Clay had moved up from the smaller fights that had little rules and were just survival of the fittest to more organized MMA fighting, but even in this arena, the lure was the no-holds-barred battle between two men who knew how to truly hurt their opponents.

Wyatt really was certifiable, and Clay along with him. Tabitha almost felt guilty for being the catalyst that brought those two together as friends. It was the collision of their combined ambitions and testosterone-fueled need to conquer that led to Tabitha sitting in this seat waiting for Wyatt to come out.

His opponent was first, because Wyatt was the more popular fighter. Tabitha studied him once he entered the cage after the fanfare and had to admit this young fighter looked nervous. He wasn’t nearly as big as Wyatt, who had been forced to get into a sauna at a local gym for a good hour and half this morning and then starve himself for the rest of the day when he stepped on the scale in their hotel room and found out he was four full pounds over weight class despite months of dieting. He was always so close he actually traveled with a scale in his luggage.

Wyatt slipped in at a half pound under the light-heavyweight upper limit. How very unfortunate for his opponent. The other fighter was far from being small, but Tabitha knew Wyatt’s body better than anyone, and this man just wasn’t as toned or broad. Plus, he lacked Wyatt’s unbending confidence that was more than obvious when he came out from the other side of the small arena.

The noise the crowd made was insane. She actually winced at it as she stood on her toes to see Wyatt. For some crazy reason, he had donned the persona of the “The Deputy,” and he pulled it off as only a man who was born to perform for the masses could. He played to that stereotype of those scary Southern cops you never wanted to get stopped by.

Truth was, Wyatt let more people off on tickets than anyone. Jules was the deputy these folks should be scared of. She wrote twice as many tickets as Wyatt, and she only worked part-time.

Tonight Wyatt wore a deputy hat and tan shorts to match, but his muscular chest was bare and shiny with oil. So silly. Tabitha giggled when she saw him throw up his arms and get the crowds worked up into a frenzy. She covered her face with her hands when he tossed his hat out into the crowd. She knew Clay was somewhere visibly cringing over Wyatt’s antics.

Wyatt threw that hat every time, but it was only the first one that was his real deputy hat. He told Tabitha his father had lost his mind when he found out Wyatt used his uniform hat as a prop for his fighting. Now the hats were just costume hats.

When he walked past her seat in the front row, he grabbed her and kissed her full on the lips. He did it every time, and there wasn’t once that Tabitha’s cheeks didn’t flame in embarrassment. She didn’t know what she was going to do if he did make it to the UFC and started fighting in front of such large national crowds.

“That’s my girl.” Wyatt looked every bit the mean, intimidating fighter he was supposed to be as he pointed to the guys on either side of her. “I better not catch y’all looking at her.”

“Oh my God.” Tabitha rolled her eyes, speaking loudly to be heard over the crowd. “Really, Wyatt?”

Wyatt growled in response, showing his teeth in the same menacing way he had in the hotel room the night before.

Tabitha couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head. “Crazy.”

“You love me,” Wyatt said without remorse.

“I guess.” Tabitha gestured to the cage. “Ain’t ya got a fight to finish?”

“Sure enough!” Wyatt threw up his arms again, and the crowd screamed in response.

He made his way up to the cage, and when Tabitha sat down, she noticed the two men on either side of her had made an effort to sit as far from her as possible. Her cheeks were still flaming, and the nerves about the fight sure didn’t help.

Wyatt flexed his fingers that were covered in fingerless gloves. He rolled his shoulders and bounced in place, suddenly all business now that he was in the cage. The referee walked to the center and then stopped to stand between the two fighters. When he stepped back, Wyatt and his opponent came together, touching gloves and then bouncing back quickly.

They circled each other, reminding Tabitha of something one would see on the Discovery Channel—two big, powerful animals, keeping their distance but waiting for the first one to pounce and fight to the death for dominance. Tabitha wasn’t surprised Wyatt was the one to make the first move. He jumped forward like a viper and caught the other fighter with a hard right hook that made her wince in sympathy. The fighter stumbled but punched back. Wyatt dodged it, ducking low and then catching him in the side.

The other guy jumped backward toward the cage, and Wyatt kicked him, his bare foot barely grazing his chin. There was a kick in retaliation, and Wyatt doubled over, but he didn’t fall. Something about that must have bothered him. He had a perfect fighting record. There had been many fights that had ended in the first few minutes.

Wyatt darted toward the left of the fighter rather than directly at him. Tabitha gasped out loud when he came at the cage with such velocity he was able to jump up, almost appearing to run across it sideways and using it for elevation, before delivering a powerful roundhouse kick to the head that knocked the other fighter to the mat. Then Wyatt was on him, falling to his knees and punching him in the face so hard Tabitha cringed.

The referee had to pull Wyatt back.

The other fighter was unconscious when they did.

Tabitha knew enough about this sort of fighting to understand the significance of a real knockout rather than a technical one. Wyatt would surely be admiring his stats for the next two weeks. The noise level was ridiculous. She had never heard a crowd go so crazy over a fight.

“He used the cage for a roundhouse!” The guy behind her was screaming. “That was un-fucking-believable!”

The hollering in that arena really was earsplitting.

“That was amazing!” The man next to her got in Tabitha’s face, having obviously forgotten Wyatt’s threat. “I’ve never seen anything like that before! Did you see that shit?”

“I did.” Tabitha nodded, unable to help mirroring their enthusiasm. It had been an astounding feat of athleticism. “It really was amazing. It was like he walked sideways on the cage! Like magic!”

Now she was sad his sister hadn’t been there to see it. She hoped one of his coaches had someone taping it. They’d taken to recording Wyatt and Clay’s fights to analyze later. It was a wonderful moment in their history and made all the more exciting when Clay ended the last fight of the night in less than four minutes with another knockout.

Both men were still pumped when Tabitha met them after the fight, surrounded by the promoters and fans.

“I ended my fight a full minute faster than you, motherfucker,” Wyatt was shouting over the heads of the people surrounding him and Clay. “You owe me a hundred bucks.”

“Shut up, asshole!” Clay shouted back and then flipped him off for good measure. “I’m fighting guys thirty pounds heavier!”

“That ain’t a lie!” Wyatt threw up his hands and then shouted, “It was an incredible knockout, man. I’m so fucking proud of you! Tab!”

Tabitha stumbled back when Wyatt broke out of the crowd and came at her, still fueled on the adrenaline of not just his fight, but obviously rooting for Clay’s as well. He swept her off her feet and kissed her.

“Did you see Clay nail Jayston?” Wyatt’s voice was unnaturally loud, as if all the screaming had made him temporarily deaf. “Man, the second he got him to the mat he had no fucking chance! He’s got a concussion for sure. I’ve felt Clay’s right hook when he’s angry. I know that poor bastard is hurting.”

“It was a great fight.” Tabitha wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again. “Yours wasn’t half-bad either. That roundhouse—wow!”

Wyatt’s smile was wide and pleased. “Pretty badass.”

“Very badass,” Tabitha assured him. “Like a man with a vendetta.”

“Oh, hush.” Wyatt laughed. “You know you ain’t supposed to be talking about my vendettas. Kiss the hero of the hour. Once more.”

“Okay.” Tabitha lifted her arm while hanging on Wyatt, who was still holding her off her feet. “Clay, come on over here!”

Wyatt laughed. “You better not!”

“I did take him to the prom,” Tabitha teased.

“Wyatt,” coach Jasper interrupted them. “The promoters want you and Clay to go out and sign some autographs. You can bring Tabitha.”

“Oh God, that’s not good for your ego,” Tabitha said with a laugh. “It’s already too big to be tolerable.”

Wyatt kissed her again rather than argue and then put an arm around her shoulders. He was still sweaty, but Tabitha didn’t care. She curled into him when he placed a kiss against the top of her head and said, “Let’s get this publicity shit done. Then I need a steak and my girl alone in our hotel room—in that order.”

Tabitha snorted. “Glad to know the steak takes precedence.”

“I haven’t had a decent meal in a week,” Wyatt retorted indignantly and then pulled up short so fast Tabitha would have fallen if he wasn’t holding on to her. “Dad!”

Tabitha stiffened next to him when she found herself tilting her head back to look at Sheriff Conner dressed casually in jeans and a blue T-shirt. The white-hot surge of fear was all-encompassing, and she instinctively pulled away from Wyatt only to be held in place when Wyatt’s arm tightened around her.

“What the heck are you doing here?” Wyatt sounded as shocked as Tabitha felt.

“I thought I’d surprise you. I never get to see yours or Clay’s fights and—” Sheriff Conner’s gaze darted to Tabitha, but he didn’t look that shocked, which meant he probably saw Wyatt kiss her before his fight and had an hour to get over his surprise. “Tabitha, right?”

Tabitha looked to Wyatt uncertainly but then mumbled, “Yes, sir.”

His father looked away for a moment before he turned back to them and shook his head as if still battling with it. “The fights were great. Unbelievable. That roundhouse—”

“Thanks, Dad.” Wyatt sighed and looked behind him, as if searching for Clay, and then huffed in defeat. “Listen, I probably should’ve told you before now that Tabitha and I have been seeing each other. It’s just been a bad habit—keeping it secret, but that don’t mean—”

“How long?” the sheriff interrupted him.

“Huh?” Wyatt frowned.

“Seeing each other. How long’s it been going on?”

“Oh, um—” Wyatt’s eyebrows scrunched as if he was trying to remember. “Like, ninth grade.”

“What?” The sheriff looked genuinely shocked now. His dark eyes grew wide in horror. “You’ve been dating this girl all that time and didn’t think to mention it to me? What the hell, Wyatt?”

“We really do need you out there,” coach Jasper interrupted them and then pulled back with a gasp. “Well, howdy, Sheriff. Didn’t know you were coming.” Then he turned back to Wyatt and Tabitha. “When did y’all tell him ’bout you two?”

“Just now,” the sheriff mumbled. “Ninth grade. Really?”

“Oh,” Jasper said slowly and then winced at Wyatt. “Sorry, but we do need them out there.”

“Go.” The sheriff waved them off. “We’ll talk later. It was a great fight, Wy.”

“Thanks,” Wyatt said uncertainly as he pulled Tabitha with him. “See you in a little bit. We’ll have a late dinner.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dinner wasn’t that much fun.

Nothing had been said about Tabitha and Wyatt’s lying. His father made a genuine effort to be polite to Tabitha, but Wyatt noticed he asked her a lot of probing questions that were disguised as dinner chatter. Wyatt could hear the suspicion in all of them, but he didn’t stop them in fear of Tabitha catching on to his father’s cop-like tendency to be on the lookout for something wrong.

The line of questioning went something along the lines of:

“How’s your family?”

“Your mama still out of work?”

Tabitha answered most questions with simple two-word responses. Then fell silent besides Wyatt until his father started in again.

“Do you ever see your brother? Or did you have a falling out with him after that nasty fight he got in back when y’all were still in high school? No? Good, I hate to see things like that come between family.”

That last bit of questioning was what tipped Wyatt off that he was in a whole world of shit where his father was concerned. They were a fairly modern family, and Wyatt was twenty-one, not like his father could bitch about him sneaking off to do it with his girl in Chicago.

The rest, however, was a huge issue.

“You staying the night, Dad?” Wyatt asked uncertainly once dinner was over, and they walked out of the hotel steakhouse.

His father shook his head. “Uh, no, I wish I could. Got to get back to work. Just came in to watch the fights. Yours was amazing too, Clay. I can see why your coaches were excited. You’re looking at a big UFC contract for sure. You both are.”

“Thanks.” Clay looked over to Wyatt. His eyes were wide, and there was an obvious communication that said he had gotten the same vibes Wyatt had off his father. When he spoke again, his voice was distant. “Too bad you can’t stay.”

“Yeah, too bad.” His father stepped forward and shook Tabitha’s hand. “It was nice getting to know ya, darlin’. Maybe you can come over for dinner sometime soon.”

“Yes, that sounds nice,” Tabitha agreed softly. “Soon.”

“Wyatt, can I borrow you for a minute before I catch my cab to the airport?”

“Sure.” Wyatt lifted his arm off Tabitha’s shoulders, because he had felt the need to hold her through something he knew was making her nervous as hell. “Clay, you’ll walk Tab up to our room, won’t ya?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Clay gave Wyatt another wide-eyed look that said very clearly, open your dang mouth and I will beat you until you pop. “Call me later.”

Wyatt nodded. “Got it.”

Wyatt stood next to his father as they watched Tabitha and Clay walk up to the elevators. Clay pushed the button, and it opened automatically. Once they stepped in and the doors closed, his father said, “You did it, didn’t ya?”

“Did what?” Wyatt decided playing stupid would hold off the evitable for about two seconds.

“I had this moment while I was investigating it where I considered Clay. I remember Tabitha had this cut on her head, and I thought, now there’s a real sweet-tempered, very pretty young lady, and someone could lose their mind if her brother had done something to her. I knew she and Clay were close, but then I thought, nah, Clay ain’t a hothead. It just wasn’t his personality.” His father turned around and arched an eyebrow at Wyatt. “You, on the other hand.”

“Do you want me to answer this line of questioning?” Wyatt was taller than his father now, and he made a point to stand to his full height. “Or maybe I need a lawyer first.”

“Jesus Christ, Wyatt!” his father shouted loud enough to make people walking by turn around and look at them. “What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve killed those boys!”

“I ain’t admitting to anything. You’re just assuming,” Wyatt countered as he made a point to look around and lower his voice. “Thanks for that.”

“Did you do it? I just wanna know.” His father leaned in closer, studying Wyatt intensely. “You know what? No, I don’t want to know. I don’t like that girl. She’s very pretty, but you’ve got to know she’s bad for you.”

“You and Jules make a perfect pair,” Wyatt growled back before he could think better of it. “Why don’t you just go on and join the club?”

“Jules knows ’bout this?” His father threw up his hands. “Y’all must think I’m a real fool. To think of all those years I left you home, thinking I had great kids who wouldn’t do a damn thing behind my back. Now I find out you’ve been living some kind of criminal, secret life—”

“Okay,” Wyatt interrupted him with a glare. “You are talking ’bout something that happened one time when I was just a kid. Now if you think I’m gonna stand here listening to you berate me, or more so, berate Tabitha, when I have lived my whole life to make you happy. It ain’t happening.”

“Do you know what sorta family she comes from? Addictions like that are genetic. She’ll end up just like her mother. I’d bet my badge on it.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Wyatt said mockingly, “but fuck you. You don’t know her, and you’re judging her for something she ain’t even done. That ain’t fair by anyone’s standards.”

His father sputtered. “You do this, and—”

“And what? You’ll disown me? Take my badge?” Wyatt laughed bitterly. “You can have it. In case you didn’t notice tonight, I don’t need that job. I was doing it to help you, old man.”

His father pulled back in horror, his eyes wide and stunned. For a long moment he stood there speechless. “Who are you?”

“I have one rule in life.” Wyatt held up his finger and raised his eyebrows. “No one’s allowed to fuck with my girl. You do that, and things are gonna get real tense between us. Now you think ’bout that on your flight home. I’m going to bed.”

Wyatt turned to leave, his heartbeat throbbing in his ears as he walked toward the elevators. Then he stopped and turned around. “You bet your ass I did it,” he shouted across the lobby. “And I’d do it again.”

* * *

Stunned speechless and shaking with nervousness, Tabitha sat shoulder to shoulder with Clay on the bed. Clay was the only person in the world she could be completely silent with, and neither of them would sit there trying to make conversation out of obligation.

Wyatt opened the door faster than they anticipated. Tabitha jumped up. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Wyatt said quickly, making it obvious he was hiding something.

“Liar!” she shouted in accusation. “He hates me.”

“No one could hate you,” Wyatt said softly.

“Wyatt—” Tabitha folded her arms, for the moment unimpressed with his blind love for her. “Come on, tell me what he said. If he has an issue—”

“It wouldn’t matter if he did.” Wyatt walked over to Tabitha and pulled her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head despite the fact that she was unyielding and still hadn’t uncrossed her arms. “I love you. I would never let someone come between us. Even him.”

Clay’s voice cut through the silence. “Did you tell him?”

Wyatt pulled back, looking at Tabitha and deliberately ignoring Clay’s question. “You wanna get married? Like tomorrow morning while we’re still here?”

Tabitha let out a laugh of disbelief. “What?”

“I got a fat locker-room bonus that says I can buy you whatever ring ya want.” Wyatt looked at her earnestly. “I love you. Marry me, Tabby.”

“You really are crazy.” Tabitha could tell he was serious, and she was equal parts horrified and elated. “My mama—”

“Marry me,” Wyatt pressed rather than let her spout off excuses. “Then we’ll deal with the fallout together. Clay can stand as our witness.”

Tabitha turned to glance at Clay, who looked as flabbergasted as she felt. “Is he serious?”

“I—” Clay paused and then shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”

Tabitha looked back to Wyatt, seeing the firm set in his shoulders and knowing he wasn’t going to drop it. Then she considered her life and tried to imagine somehow living the rest of it without Wyatt. No way. It wasn’t something she was able to wrap her mind around, even in her worst nightmares. Marriage was going to happen eventually, so she just shrugged. “I suppose now’s as good a time as any.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Two days later Wyatt came home and started packing up his shit. He didn’t say a word to his sister or father. He just went into the garage, grabbed as many boxes as he could carry, and then headed to his room. He started throwing anything he couldn’t bear to part with into them.

He was twenty-one. He was married. He had over eighty thousand dollars saved from fighting and working as a deputy. There was absolutely no reason why he should be living in this house anymore.

It made sense to Wyatt, but his family was a little too hardheaded to give in.

“Wyatt Fredrick Conner!” Jules pounded on his door hard enough to shake the frame. “You open this damn door right now!”

“Fuck you, Ju Ju!” Wyatt shouted back.

“Don’t think I won’t take a sledgehammer to it!”

“Go for it!”

“Wyatt,” his father broke in, obviously much more calm and rational than Jules. “We both said some things we regret. Come out here, and we’ll talk it over.”

“I don’t regret any of it,” Wyatt growled as he glared at the door. “You don’t like my girl, fine! I don’t need y’all.”

“You take that back!” Jules sounded completely indignant. “You hurt Daddy’s feelings. He told me what you said!”

His father huffed loud enough to be heard through the door. “Look, Wyatt, you think I don’t get it, but I do. You’re young. You think you’re in love and—”

“I think I’m in love.” Wyatt gaped at the aged wood for one long moment before he jumped forward and unlocked it. He jerked the door open and held up his hand, showing off the gold ring Tabitha put on his finger the day before. “Check that out. She ain’t my girl anymore. She’s my wife. Now I’m gonna go off with her and start my own dang family. Got it?”

Jules’s face noticeably drained of color, and then she turned around and launched herself at Clay, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. She punched him hard enough to make Wyatt flinch in sympathy.

“You let him marry her?” Her voice had stopped being shrill and was low and dangerous instead. “You know she makes him stupid.”

Clay let out a laugh of disbelief and held his hand up to Wyatt. “You’re acting like I could’ve stopped him.”

Jules turned around and went after Wyatt as if understanding Clay’s reasoning.

Wyatt had the common sense to shove the door forward and block her. It gave him a two-second head start. He was halfway into his room when Jules tackled him from behind. She wrapped an arm around his neck, choking him.

“Get her off me!” Wyatt threatened in raspy voice because she was doing a very effective job of cutting off most of his air supply. “Or I swear to God, this is gonna be the day I hit her back. I’m officially sick of her!”

“Okay, come on, you two.” Their father came forward and struggled to pull Jules off him. “Let him go, Juliet. This ain’t the way to talk this out.”

“She’s crazy!” Wyatt pulled at her arm and coughed when he was finally able to breathe a tiny bit easier. “And you give me hell ’bout being hotheaded?”

“You’re both hotheaded!” Their father struggled with Jules, who was wrapped around Wyatt like a crazed monkey. “This is Grandpa’s gift to y’all! I’m being punished for something. Goddamn it! Let him go!”

“I missed my brother’s wedding.” Jules let out a sob in his ear. “Even if he had to marry her, I was still supposed to be there.”

“Is she having girl problems again?” Wyatt barked and then grunted in pain when Jules still managed to hit him in the side while clinging to him. “Ouch! Why is she allowed to hit me, and I ain’t allowed to retaliate? If she’s training for the Olympics, I think that’s the time when I can fight back and—”

Wyatt stopped bitching and started coughing when his father finally pried Jules off him, holding her off her feet while she struggled. That was no small feat. Jules was nearly six feet tall and solid muscle.

When she dropped to her feet, all three of them stood there breathing hard. Clay was standing in the doorway, just watching them have a family meltdown.

Jules flipped her long hair back from where she was bent over, clutching her waist, and narrowed her eyes at Wyatt. “Did you really marry her?”

“No, I stuck the ring on my own finger,” Wyatt said sarcastically.

His father held up his hands in a form of surrender. “Wyatt—”

“If you’re gonna say something negative ’bout my wife—”

His father gave him a long look. “Nah, I ain’t gonna say anything bad ’bout her. I don’t really know her, do I?”

Wyatt caught the underhanded jab and arched an eyebrow. “Can’t really blame me for keeping it a secret. Look what happened when you did find out.”

“I think I’m being very understanding under the circumstances.” His father’s voice was calm, but Wyatt could hear the underlying anger. “Can we go downstairs, have a cup of coffee, and discuss this?”

“What’s there to discuss?” Wyatt snorted. “Not like I’m going back on it. I’m a man of my word. I promised Tabitha till death do us part, and I meant it.”

“How ’bout your living arrangements?” His father gave him a hard look. “Have you thought ’bout where you’re going to take her and set up shop?”

“Well, no, but—”

“This is a big house. Maybe y’all could live here until you find something more permanent.”

“What?” Jules turned their father. “You’re just gonna accept it?”

“He made a commitment to this girl.” Their father shrugged before he cast another quick glare at Wyatt. “A really big one.”

Jules choked. “But—”

“Why doesn’t she like her?” his father asked Wyatt accusingly. “That makes me very apprehensive.”

“’Cause she’s crazy.” Wyatt let out a manic laugh as he lifted a hand to his sister. “You saw what just happened.”

Jules went after him again, but their father caught her before she could attack. He wrapped a large arm around her waist, holding her back. “Calm down! I wanna know why you don’t like this girl your brother married. Give me a solid reason before we go starting something with him again.”

“She makes him stupid.”

“But what has she personally done to make you dislike her?”

Jules paused before she rolled her eyes. “Well, nothing, but—”

“Tabitha’s actually a very nice, responsible woman, and she has loved Wyatt unconditionally for a long time,” Clay cut in, reminding them he was still there. “I’m inclined to agree with Wyatt. It ain’t nice for y’all to be judging her ’cause of where she came from. That’s like judging me.”

“That’s very true. It’s unfair.” His father surprised Wyatt by sounding genuine, which made the first flowers of guilt blossom inside him.

He sighed and gave his father a look. “I didn’t mean to call ya an old man in Chicago.”

“It’s all right.” He shrugged and looked from Wyatt to Jules. “Most days y’all make me feel old.”

“I’m sorry,” Wyatt said solemnly. “And about what happened back when we were kids—”

“We’re just gonna pretend you never mentioned it.” His father cut him off with a stern look. “If I heard something like that, we’d be dealing with a lot bigger crisis than you going off half-cocked and getting hitched.”

That seemed to give Jules pause, and it was obvious his father left out that part of their confrontation in Chicago. Her eyes were wide and horrified. Even from across the room, he could feel her fear for him.

“Maybe coffee is good,” she whispered.

Wyatt nodded in agreement. “Fine.”

“Well, okay then.” Their father turned to leave without another word.

Clay, Jules, and Wyatt hung behind when he walked down the hallway. It wasn’t until they heard his footfalls on the stairs that Jules reached out and hit the back of Wyatt’s head. “You told him?”

“I knew it,” Clay growled. “I fucking knew it.”

“You’re married now. Fine.” Jules leaned down, putting her face in her hands and speaking into her fingers. “I want you to promise me you’ll never get stupid for her again. That you’ll be the man our father raised you to be.”

Wyatt gave his sister a long look. “What you don’t seem to realized, Ju Ju, is that I’ve tried my entire life to be that man. They’re just really big shoes to fill.”

Jules dropped her hands and gave him a half smile. “I guess it’s a good thing you’ve got huge feet. Am I supposed to say congratulations?”

Wyatt laughed. “It’d be nice.”

Jules threw up her hands in defeat. “Congratulations, Wy Wy.”

* * *

Tabitha turned the ring on her finger. She pulled it off and tilted it toward the sunlight filtering in through Wyatt’s bedroom window. She studied the inscription, feeling a smile tug at her lips despite everything.

July 19, 1999 Forever

“Having second thoughts?”

Tabitha looked up at Wyatt, and her smile grew wider. “No, just trying to figure out everything. I still haven’t told my mama yet. I think she’s doing better and—”

“Tab—” Wyatt started.

“Don’t. I know,” she whispered and looked back to her ring. “How’d your family take it? I noticed you waited till they were all gone to come and pick me up.”

“Nah, they were fine.” Wyatt’s smile was strained, but Tabitha pretended not to notice, especially when he said, “My dad offered to let us set up camp here till I can buy us a house. I reckoned it’d probably be a good idea to take our time and find a place we both liked.”

“Really?” Tabitha stared at him in surprise.

“Yeah.” He pulled off his T-shirt and then crawled into bed next to her. He propped his head in his hand and stared at her. “What’d you think?”

Tabitha looked at her ring, feeling the insecurities well up inside her. “I dunno if I’d be comfortable here. Jules doesn’t like me, and—”

“She likes you fine,” Wyatt argued.

Tabitha rolled her eyes in disbelief. “Gimme a few days.”

“A few days.” He frowned, and the hurt was obvious in his voice. “Why?”

“I’m just waiting for the right moment. If I tell her wrong, she’ll start drinking more, and—”

“She’s always going to drink more,” Wyatt said in a gentle but firm voice. “You know that, Tabitha.”

“Who will she have to take care of her if I move out?” Tabitha spoke her biggest fears without looking at Wyatt. “I feel like I’m abandoning her.”

“Is she a nice person?” Wyatt asked her with a wince when she looked up at him. “Has she ever done anything that gave you an indication she is deserving of all this devotion you have to her?”

“She’s sick,” Tabitha said in misery. “She’s very sick, Wyatt. You have to be gentle with people who are ill like my mama is.”

“Oh God.” Wyatt looked past her and stared at the wall as if searching for patience. “You know there are groups for children of alcoholics. Maybe—”

“No,” Tabitha said before he could finish.

“I don’t want fight with you.” Wyatt took the ring from her and then picked up her left hand and slid it back onto her finger. “What if we took a honeymoon? I got some sick time.”

“Really?” Tabitha asked in disbelief, because she knew he used all his sick leave and vacation time for his fighting.

“Okay, well, no, but I got an in with the sheriff.” Wyatt gave her a smile. “Let’s go somewhere. You tell your mama, and then I will take you anywhere in the whole dang world you want to go.”

Tabitha liked traveling a lot. She had a creative soul, and new places fueled her imagination. “That would be nice,” she had to agree. “Maybe New York. I love when your fights are somewhere with lots of lights. I bet New York is incredible. Would that be too expensive?”

“Nowhere is too expensive for my girl.” Wyatt used his hold on her hand to bring it to his lips. He placed a kiss against the inside of her wrist. “I’d take you to the moon if I could.”

Tabitha giggled. “You’re so silly.”

“Silly, crazy in love with my wife.” Wyatt moved his lips up to the inside of her arm. “Not sure how many lights you’re gonna be able to see when I refuse to let you out of the room.”

“We’ll get a room high up so we can see them from the bed,” Tabitha suggested as she rolled onto her back, letting Wyatt continue to kiss his way up her arm.

“This is why I married you.” Wyatt tugged her blouse aside and kissed her bare shoulder. “You’re a very smart woman.”

She stroked his hair, that he’d been keeping extra short because of the fighting. She used her hold on it to lift his head and force his lips to hers. He parted for her, letting her slip her tongue into his mouth. She hummed in happiness, enjoying being the aggressor.

She pushed on his shoulders. He caught the hint and rolled onto his back, bringing Tabitha with him. She ran a hand down his muscular bare chest, marveling for the moment that this beautiful man was her husband. For a woman who had been born with a dark cloud hanging over her head, it suddenly felt like the tides were changing.

She leaned down to press her lips against one small nipple, and Wyatt’s breath caught. He tangled his fingers in her hair. Tabitha glanced up, seeing that he was watching her. She gave him a mischievous smile and moved lower, licking playfully at the deep ridges of his abdominal muscles that were truly impressive. She tugged at the button to his jeans and then lifted her head to lick at her lips.

Wyatt gave her a hot look. “Sexy.”

“That ain’t a lie.” Tabitha glanced back down, admiring him as she pulled down his zipper. “Do we got time before your sister gets home?”

“Heck, yes,” Wyatt groaned when Tabitha cupped his erection through his underwear.

She pulled them down and then licked at the head of his cock, savoring the salty tang of precum. Then she took him in her mouth, making Wyatt jerk under her. His fingers tightened in her hair when she pushed his jeans and underwear farther down and then started sucking him in earnest. She used her hand too, stroking and taking him in her mouth over and over until Wyatt was making those low grunting sounds of pleasure that always made all the fine hairs on Tabitha’s arms stand on end.

She thought she was going to do it until he came, but he arched under her after a few minutes and urged her to lift her head. She looked at him in question, and he said, “Come here.”

Tabitha grinned and crawled over him. When Wyatt reached for the hem of her blouse, she helped him pull it off. While straddling him she unzipped her skirt as he leaned up and undid her bra with practiced ease.

Then she jumped up and stood up on the bed over Wyatt, her feet on either side of his hips. She kicked her skirt aside and dropped her bra over his face. Wyatt laughed, pushing her bra away to reach up and tug on her panties. Once he’d gotten them off, he tossed them to the floor and tilted his head to get a good look at her standing naked over him. Tabitha arched an eyebrow when she saw where his gaze was lingering.

“What are you looking at?” she asked with a giggle.

“I’m looking at you,” he countered with a smile. “Come sit on me, pretty girl.”

“Subtle.” She laughed harder but did as told and straddled him again, this time taking her time to slide down his cock when she did it. She took him in slowly, letting her head fall back as the pleasure of being stretched and full washed over her. “Oh, Wyatt.”

Wyatt grabbed her waist and arched his hips up at the same time, taking her the rest of the way with a hard thrust that made her gasp. She had been so tense since they’d gotten back from Chicago, but it all evaporated away to a misty memory as she started moving over him.

She leaned over him and placed her hand on the pillow by his head. He used his hold on her hips to guide the slow, lazy thrusts in and out until they were both breathless and moaning into each other’s mouths when Tabitha leaned down and started kissing him.

More often than not, their sexual escapades were wild and frantic. They were short on time. Wyatt was pumped from a fight. Tabitha was stressed from her mother. There were a million reasons why they would come together in a clash of rambunctious pleasure to escape.

But slow was nice too.

Tabitha came twice before Wyatt groaned under her. She opened her eyes, watching as his head jerked back against the pillow, exposing the tight, corded muscles of his neck. His eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw clenched as his hips jerked up in a distinctive rhythm.

When he grunted, “Tabby,” she felt it all the way down to the core of her being.

She loved this man so much it was hard to wrap her mind around most of the time.

Then it was over, and Tabitha fell over him. She stroked his hair and just lay there connected with him. It was such a peaceful, beautiful moment Tabitha wished they could just stay in his room forever and hide from the world.

“You wanna do it again?” Wyatt asked after several long minutes.

Tabitha lifted her head and smiled at him. “Sure.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tabitha’s car was in the shop, but the repairs were so expensive she had been procrastinating on picking it up. Wyatt said he’d buy her a new one, but if they were really going to buy a house, she thought that might be a waste.

She had lots of money saved. She just got nervous when she had to spend it. The thought of handing fifteen hundred dollars over to that mechanic was making Tabitha break out in a sweat, even if rationally she knew she had enough.

She wasn’t going to starve. She could pay for the dang car.

This was the internal conversation she was having with herself as she worked on her final closing duties for Maple’s before Terry drove her home.

“Come on, girlie. This place is clean,” Terry said as he walked out from the back. “You keep rubbing at those lottery displays, and there won’t be any glass left.”

“Fingerprints.” Tabitha leaned down and sprayed at the bottom corner where some child had left their mark.

“Nope.” Terry stopped in front of her and then leaned down to grab her arm. “Put the bottle down, or I’m going to have to initiate an intervention. You’re the biggest neat freak I’ve seen in all my days.”

“Fine.” Tabitha broke out of his hold and unlatched the lottery counter door to put the cleaning supplies away.

She saw the cigarettes were out of order and turned to fix them, but Terry slammed his hand down on the glass. “It’s eleven o’clock. Hal’s waiting for me.”

“I just cleaned that,” she snapped at him.

“You need help.” He laughed. “I’m gay, and I’m telling you that you’re too damn neat. That’s a problem.”

Tabitha held up her hands and then let it be because she knew she probably had a problem where that was concerned, but if Terry had grown up in the house she had, he’d like things nice and orderly too.

She picked up her purse and slipped it over her shoulder. “Thanks for the ride. I’m going to pick up my car tomorrow.”

“You’ve been saying that since before you left for Chicago.” Terry looked at her in concern when they started toward the back. “Do you need money?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m getting it tomorrow. I promise.”

“If you say so,” Terry said in disbelief as he reached into his pocket for his keys.

They stopped at the alarm, and he set it. Then they made the quick dash for the back door. Tabitha gasped when they stepped into the night air. Wyatt was leaning against his patrol car, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing his uniform, but his hat must’ve have been tossed into the passenger seat.

“What the heck—” she started with a smile.

“I reckoned I could save Terry a trip and give my wife a ride.” Wyatt shrugged as he smiled back at her. “I’m on break.”

“Well, okay.” Tabitha shrugged as she turned back to Terry. “Guess you’re getting to Hal faster than planned.”

“Works for me.” Terry shook his head as he looked over to Wyatt. “I surely can’t believe you two got married in Chicago. I bet Jules lost her mind missing it like she did.”

“Nah, she was fine with it.” Wyatt beckoned Tabitha over. “Come on. Y’all took longer than I planned. I need to get back to work.”

“Talk to your wife ’bout her cleaning problem,” Terry said as he walked over to his car. “I’m staying the night at Hal’s place. Call me if you need a ride.”

“Thanks.” Tabitha practically skipped over to Wyatt.

Seeing him after work was a nice surprise, and she stood on her toes to give him a kiss when she got to him. “This was sweet of you.”

“You need a car.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “I’m heading over to Kennedy’s place tomorrow and paying for you to get it back.”

“No, I’m doing it. I have the money, Wyatt.” She walked around to the other side of the car. “I’m just being stingy.”

“What’s mine is yours.” Wyatt got into the driver’s side and then unlocked her door. “You need to start getting used to it.”

“I’m working on it.” She got in and pulled the door closed. She tossed her purse on the floor next to his hat and then buckled her seat belt. “How’s work tonight?”

“Slow.” Wyatt started the car and backed up. “Too slow. Never a good sign. When it gets this slow, that means something’s ’bout to go down.”

“Yeah? What’s that? Cop superstition?”

“Just makes me nervous. If something’s too good to be true, it usually is.” Wyatt always drove really fast, and Tabitha noticed the police cruiser exacerbated the problem. He tore out of the parking lot as he said, “I need to get back. I don’t like my dad out in the field by himself. He’s supposed to stay behind his desk doing sheriff things and leave the grunt work to us deputies.”

“He ain’t ever stayed behind that desk.” Tabitha laughed. “Ask anyone in Garnet who broke a law in the past decade.”

“I know.” Wyatt sighed. “Stubborn bastard.”

Tabitha gave him a knowing look. “You love him.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

With Wyatt driving, they got to Tabitha’s road really fast. “Oh, stop here,” she said when he turned down it. “I’ll walk.”

“At eleven at night?” Wyatt gave her a look. “No.”

“It’s not that far. I’ll be fine.”

“Tabitha, no, I can drive you to the door.”

“But, you can’t—”

Wyatt slammed on the brakes so hard Tabitha was suddenly glad she took the time to put her belt on. She put her hands on the dashboard and looked at him in shock.

“You haven’t told her yet?” Wyatt barked, his light eyes wide in fury.

“I said I needed a few days!”

“Tonight. Now.” Wyatt gestured to the road. “I’ll drive to your house, and we’ll both go in there and tell her before I go back to work.”

“No,” Tabitha said with determination. “I’m not ready.”

Wyatt threw the car into park, which Tabitha knew was a bad sign. Then he leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “Tab, I have tried to be understanding.”

“No, you haven’t,” she argued. “It’s been three days since Chicago. I’m not like you. I can’t just shout it at my family and expect them to get over it. I need a little time. You have to see that about me and understand it. Please. I’m begging you not to turn this into an issue.”

“It’s an issue,” Wyatt assured her with a glare. “A huge fucking issue. If you don’t let me go in there and tell her, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” She laughed in disbelief. “What are you going to do, divorce me? You asked me to marry you rashly, and I agreed because I want to be with you. I’m just pleading for some time to handle my mother. That’s it, and then we can go and live in whatever house you wanna live in and—”

Wyatt ran a hand through his hair and dropped his head back against the seat. “Tabitha, I love you, but you have to know you’ve got a few things you have to find a way to deal with. Being totally codependent is one of them.”

“Hello!” She laughed again. “You ain’t perfect, Wyatt. You have the worst temper and—”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to marry me then!”

“I didn’t say that. I’m saying that no one’s perfect. I love you for who you are. Why can’t you do the same for me? I’m trying.”

“Just get out, then.” Wyatt gestured to the door. “You wanna walk in the dark for a half mile, fine, do it. I’m sick of trying to help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves. You know, my father’s right. You are your mother, and I’m the only blind asshole who doesn’t see it.”

Tabitha pulled back. Her eyes filled with tears before she could even find the words to express her absolute horror at the insult. She couldn’t even breathe past the hurt. Desperate for air she fumbled for the handle and opened it. She picked up her purse and stepped out of the car, all the while waiting for Wyatt to say sorry. Her mind just couldn’t accept that he would say something so terrible and not immediately apologize for cutting her that deeply.

Sometimes Wyatt said dumb things, but he never meant them.

She was still expecting him to make it better when he backed up and turned down to the main road. Then she stood there in stunned disbelief, feeling eleven all over again. It was like that afternoon when she’d burned all her stories with the first, terrible realization that heroes weren’t real. Tabitha stayed where she was, crying in the darkness for a good twenty minutes, waiting for Wyatt to come back.

He never did.

* * *

By the time Tabitha got home, she was a mess. She was tired from working and broken from the fight with Wyatt. She stumbled up the steps, hearing the music rattle the walls. She groaned and looked heavenward. God must have a real vendetta against her.

She took a moment to wipe at her face and even reached into her purse for her mirror. She looked at her reflection in the porch light. The horrible part of being a redhead was that crying always showed on her face long after the tears subsided. There was no way to hide it, so she didn’t even try.

That was how badly Wyatt had hurt her.

She didn’t care what anyone on the other side of that door thought. She walked in to find her mother passed out on the couch. Brett and Vaughn were arguing over something in the kitchen. She was hoping they wouldn’t notice her, but with the night she was having, she wasn’t surprised when they did.

“What about Tabitha?” she heard Brett whisper as she walked in. “Will that work?”

Vaughn looked at her for a long moment and then shrugged. “Hell yeah, it’ll work.”

Brett stepped into the living room. “What the heck happened to you?”

“Leave me alone,” she mumbled as she walked toward her room.

“Hey, now.” Brett came forward and grabbed her arm. “Don’t be like that. You can talk to your brother.”

Tabitha stared at him, wondering if she had somehow stepped into an alternate reality. One where Wyatt was mean and Brett was considerate. “What?” she asked in complete disbelief.

“Come on, sit down.” Brett led her over to the other sofa and pushed her into it. “Something happen at work? You get fired?”

“I don’t have any money, Brett,” she said defensively.

“I’m not asking for money. I’m asking why my sister is crying.” Brett sounded so earnest it was still messing with Tabitha’s sensors. He turned around and took the glass Vaughn handed him. “Here, try this. It’ll take the edge off.”

Tabitha shook her head and pushed it away. “I don’t like this stuff.”

“One time in your life won’t kill ya.” Brett laughed.

“No, I suppose not.” Tabitha took the drink and sniffed it, hating the smell of vodka. “I guess I might as well, since he thinks I’m like her anyway.”

“Who thinks that?”

“No one.” Tabitha took a drink and grimaced over the burn. “I don’t like it.”

“You haven’t even tried it.”

Tabitha leaned back against the couch and took another drink. Then she looked to her mother, who was blissfully passed out. Just once it’d be nice to know what it felt like to completely escape from the world that hurt her. The glass wasn’t that full. It was mostly vodka and a little orange juice. She downed it in one shot and then looked at the bottom. “Why’s it grainy? Did you use rotten orange juice?”

“It’s fine.” Brett waved off her concern. “So do you wanna talk?”

“No, I wanna go to bed.” Tabitha stood up and waved off Brett’s offer to help. It was too strange to be dealt with. She’d think about it tomorrow when she could breathe again. “Night.”

“Night, Tab.”

She wanted a shower, but she never got naked when Vaughn was in the house, so she went to bed instead. She fell down against her lumpy mattress and stared at the ceiling, feeling like her world was caving in around her. She was still in utter shock over Wyatt saying what he did. As she pondered it, the ceiling looked like it really was spinning.

Maybe she was falling into an alternate universe.

If she did, it might be a good thing. If everything in the alternate universe was opposite, maybe Tabitha would be lucky. Though, even as she thought about it, she knew she had been lucky. She had a beautiful husband who loved her.

Or she thought so anyway. Maybe it had all been a lie.

The room spun more forcefully, and Tabitha’s stomach lurched. This booze was terrible stuff. She was going to be legitimately sick. She jumped up and then pitched to the ground immediately as if her legs weren’t working. She had to crawl to the door, and she fumbled with the lock, because everything was blurred and uneven. She could barely get her hand on it, let alone get it open.

When she did finally manage to unlock it, the door opened by magic, and she blinked up, seeing Vaughn looming over her, dark and menacing, like one of those villains from the stories she still wrote when she had the time.

She wanted to run away, but she puked on his feet instead.

“Fuck, Tabitha.” He kicked her, his foot connecting with her jaw, and she fell backward, but she didn’t feel it. “I’m gonna make you sorry for that.”

She blinked up at the ceiling that was still swirling in the darkness, making her feel like she was falling into an endless black hole. The door clicked shut. She heard the lock flip, and then someone was pulling her up, forcing her onto the bed.

Even as sick as she was, she still managed to scream when Vaughn’s face swam into view. She tried to push him off her, but her arms weren’t working the way she wanted them too.

She felt Vaughn’s heavy weight over her, and another scream burst out of her, this one pure and terrified. She said one word, the only word she could think of that would stop this from happening.

“Wyatt!”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Wyatt.”

He stared at the police radio, stunned to hear his name come across it. Usually they used call signs. Already having a terrible night, he picked up the mic with a sense of dread and said, “Yeah.”

“You have to come back to the station,” Jules said slowly. “Right now.”

“What’s going on?”

“Just come back.” The quiver of fear was noticeable in his sister’s voice.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Wyatt’s breathing fell shallow in fear. “Is it Dad?”

“What the hell?” His father’s voice broke in. “This is a police radio, not a telephone.”

“Both of you come back.”

“Okay, fifty-six me at the station,” his father said before Wyatt could find the ability. “Boy, you gonna answer her?”

“I’m ten fifty-one,” Wyatt said numbly and then dropped the mic on his lap.

If his father was okay, there wasn’t anything that could really end him, unless it was Clay. He’d been training late. What if—

Wyatt tore out of the parking lot he’d been sitting in to do paperwork. He turned on his lights and siren and pulled into the station five minutes later behind his father, whose siren was blaring too. He leaped out his car and left the door open as he ran to the front doors.

“Do you know what it is?” Wyatt barked at his father.

“Not a clue.” His father opened the doors and burst into the sheriff’s office like a bull. “What the hell is going on?”

Jules was sitting at dispatch, shaking, with tears rolling down her face.

The fear forced all the air out of Wyatt’s lungs when he met his sister’s horrified gaze. She was looking at Wyatt, not his father, and he didn’t know why he knew it, but he did.

“Oh God!” he shouted. “It’s Tabitha!”

“It was a drug overdose. I put in the call for the ambulance on the phone. I didn’t want you to hear it over the radio,” Jules said in a wild, sobbing rush of panic. “She was unconscious, and her mama called it in. I’m sorry, Wy Wy. I got them out there as fast as I could.”

“Is she dead?” Wyatt choked on the words.

Jules shook her head. “No, but it wasn’t a good call.”

“Oh shit.” He looked to his father desperately, feeling young and afraid, hoping he somehow had a way to fix it when Wyatt couldn’t. “What’d I do?”

“We get you to the hospital.” His father grabbed his arm, jerking Wyatt so hard he stumbled. “Jules, call in someone to cover us and then work the board.”

“What?” Jules jumped up. “I’m going with you. I have to go with him!”

“Not this time.” His father pointed to the board. “You sit there and do your job. He’ll never get there if you’re driving him. With that twin vibe y’all got going on, you’ll wreck for sure.”

“I have to go!”

“Nope.” His father was already opening the door and dragging Wyatt with him because his legs had stopped working. “Boy, you got fifteen minutes to pull your shit together before we get there.”

“It takes half an hour to get to Mercy!”

“Not when I’m driving.” His father jumped into his police jeep. He flipped on his sirens and lights and then using his loudest, most intimidating sheriff’s voice growled, “Get in, Wyatt! Now!”

Wyatt got in and slammed the door.

Then he crumpled. He leaned his forehead against his knees and did something he hadn’t done since the day his grandfather died. He started crying. “Fuck,” he choked out between sobs. “Oh God, Dad. It’s my fault.”

“It ain’t your fault.”

“No, it is. We had a fight. I left her there. I just left her in the road. I ain’t never done something like that to her before. I drove her to it. I know I did.”

“Jesus Christ, Wyatt.”

“Oh God, if she dies, I’ll die with her. I said the worst things to her. That can’t be the last thing she heard from me.”

“I’ll get you there. It won’t be the last thing she heard from you. I promise.”

He nodded, hoping to God this wasn’t going be the first promise his father broke to him. “Okay.”

* * *

“Sweetheart, I need you try and stay with us. Look at me.”

Tabitha blinked at the bright lights, trying to do what the doctor was telling her. “I’m sick.”

“I know. We’re helping you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, because help sounded like something she was in desperate need of.

She closed her eyes again.

“Oh no.” A hand grabbed her face. “We’re staying awake.”

Tabitha blinked again. “Okay.”

“Do you know who did this to you?”

“Did what?”

“Do you remember anything?”

Tabitha fought to focus, and when she did, flashes of Vaughn over her flitted through her fogged mind. She lashed out, trying to push him away.

“Honey, no, you’re in the hospital. Calm down.” The voice was anxious but kind.

Nothing like Vaughn.

Tabitha stopped fighting. She didn’t know how long she drifted on the wake of semiconsciousness before she heard the same voice say, “I need a rape kit, Carla. Someone needs to put a call into the police. This isn’t just an overdose. That’s crap. This girl was drugged.”

“No,” Tabitha rasped past the burn in her throat, because she understood that if nothing else. “You can’t call the police.”

“Honey, we have to call the police. You don’t know how badly hurt you are.”

“No.” Tabitha blinked and fought for clarity, but it was as if her mind was stuffed with cotton, and her tongue felt leaden. “Wyatt’s the police.”

“What?” The face of a middle-aged woman with soft eyes swam into view before she turned back to whoever she was talking to. “Where’s the rape kit? Tell Daniel to get the call in to Garnet. That’s where she came in from, right?”

“No!” She tried to sit up.

“Calm down. I want you to take long, easy breaths. We’re here for you.”

“Wyatt’s the police,” she repeated and then reached out for the lady’s hand. There were all sorts of tubes in the way, and she couldn’t get it. “You can’t tell him.”

“Who’s Wyatt? Is he the one who did this to you?”

Tabitha shook her head, but it made her stomach lurch, and she started gagging instead. They turned her when she started throwing up. It was horrible and tasted like a dirty fire.

“We had to pump your stomach while you were out. You’re gonna be throwing up for a while, I’m afraid.”

“I’m dying,” Tabitha whispered when she looked down and saw she was throwing up black.

“No, you’re not dying. We’re here to make sure of that.”

It wasn’t such a horrible concept, dying. She had the thought of just giving in and embracing it rather than fighting for a life that had never been that kind to her, but there had been a few highlights. Wyatt. She had to make sure they didn’t tell him.

“Dr. Swartz, the police are here.”

“Already?”

“He said he was her husband. It’s Sheriff Conner’s son. Wyatt.”

There was a stunned silence in the room before the woman who had been helping Tabitha whispered, “Oh shit.”

“Wyatt’s the police,” Tabitha said frantically, hoping to convey all the horrors telling him would create. “He’s the police. Wyatt is.”

She wanted to say more, but she started throwing up instead.

“Okay, don’t worry about it. I got you.” The woman held her head, her gloved hands gentle on Tabitha’s head. “You tell him to sit in the waiting room, and when I get her stabilized, I’ll speak with them.”

“They weren’t so keen on waiting. He’s got the sheriff with him.”

“Well, this ain’t a sheriff’s office. It’s my emergency room, and I say they got to wait.”

“You can’t tell him,” Tabitha whispered when she stopped throwing up. “You can’t tell Wyatt.”

“Let’s focus on you. Don’t worry about it right now.”

“No.” Tabitha started crying when she thought of what Wyatt would do if he found out. “I love him.”

The doctor stroked Tabitha’s hair. “I know.”

“He’ll ruin his life.”

“Okay.”

“Save him for me,” Tabitha whispered with a desperate sob. “Please save him for me. I know you don’t know me, but please save him for me.”

“Oh honey, you’re breaking my heart.”

“He says dumb things, but he doesn’t mean them.” Tabitha whispered the last part for herself and then somehow managed to grab the woman’s hand. She squeezed it tightly and fought to keep her in focus for Wyatt’s sake. She willed the wires in her brain to start working and made a deliberate attempt to speak slowly and clearly. “If you tell him, he will do something that will put him in prison. You cannot tell him.”

“Isn’t he the fighter?” someone else in the room asked. “One of those cage fighters?”

“Yes.” Tabitha was still trying to keep her words even, but her stomach was lurching, and all she managed to get out was, “Fighter.”

“We got it. We know what you’re saying. I’ll take care of it.” She stroked her face again. “I got your back, darlin’.”

Somehow, Tabitha knew she wasn’t lying, and the next time she threw up, it wasn’t quite so violent. She just let the poison come up, willing it to take all the horrible, hazy memories with it.

“Is her family out there?”

“They left.”

“They left?” The woman’s voice was completely incredulous.

“When they saw the sheriff pull up, they just got up and walked out.”

There was another stunned silence in the room before the doctor sighed. “Yeah, I bet they did.”

“Save Wyatt,” Tabitha whispered one more time before she felt her eyes getting heavy again. “Okay?”

“Okay,” the doctor whispered bitterly. “We couldn’t save you, but we’ll save Wyatt tonight. That’s fair.”

* * *

“How hard is it to get a status update?”

“Sheriff—”

“No,” Wyatt’s father barked. “He’s her husband. That means he’s got legal rights to know what the hell is going on with his wife. You go find a doctor who knows what’s going on, and then drag their ass out here to give us a real status. We’ve been waiting for almost two hours. I’m done.”

“They know you’re waiting.”

“Listen to me, darlin’.” His father leaned in closer to the lady behind the desk, his voice shaking in anger. “I promised my son I would get him to see his wife. Now either you’re gonna make it happen, or I’m gonna go back there and do it for you. Got it?”

She stood up from behind the desk. “Fine, I’ll go check on her.”

“Thank you.” He leaned back against the desk and folded his arms over his chest as he looked to Wyatt. “You okay?”

Wyatt shook his head silently. He had moved past tears and was into raw shock and horror. He’d thrown up twice since getting to the hospital, and his stomach was still churning. Until this moment, he wouldn’t have been able to comprehend something destroying him this intensely.

As long as Tabitha lived through this, Wyatt told himself, he could survive everything.

Please, God, let her live.

He dropped his head back into hands and stayed there, wishing he had Jules with him. Going through this without his twin made it worse, as if that was possible.

“Sheriff Conner.”

Wyatt jerked his head up, looking to the doctor who walked around the corner. She had short dark hair and a wan smile for them when Wyatt jumped to his feet.

“Wyatt,” she said as she tilted her head back to look up at him. She appeared to be studying him with a keen eye before she shook her head. “I see what she’s talking ’bout.”

“Was she asking for me?” Wyatt asked quickly. “Is she okay? You need to let me go see her.”

She held up her hand. “We have a room where we can discuss this. Follow me.”

Wyatt saw his father pale, but he recovered quickly. His father grabbed his arm when something in Wyatt wanted to stop. What if she told him Tabitha was gone in that room?

“Is she dead?” Wyatt asked quickly. “If she is, just—”

“She’s not dead,” she interrupted him. “I believe she’ll recover. Now would you like to follow me?”

“O-okay,” Wyatt stuttered and then followed the doctor when she turned without another word.

Once she had ushered Wyatt and his father into a private room with a couch and some chairs, she gestured for them to sit. That didn’t bode well, but they both sat because this woman had a way about her that demanded attention.

“Your wife had an unfortunate incident with taking too much medication. It happens sometimes when people don’t read the medicine boxes properly,” she went on in a very calm, conscientious voice. “We pumped her stomach and are giving her drugs to counteract the negative effects to her body.”

“What drugs?”

“I’m afraid it’s a private matter, and the patient has asked that it not be shared.”

“That’s bullshit!” his father shouted. “If he’s her husband, he has a right to know. She’s not in any condition to make medical decisions for herself.”

“She has a mother, doesn’t she?”

“Her mother?” Wyatt barked. “You’re going to turn her medical care over to her instead of me?”

“Yeah, this is all kinds of illegal!” his father agreed. “And trust me, I know her mother. She ain’t fit to take care of herself, let alone her daughter. Either you start giving us real answers, or we’re gonna get a lawyer in here faster than you can say lawsuit.”

“How long have you been married to her, Wyatt?” the doctor asked curiously. “Because none of the forms her family filled out had your name on them.”

“F-four days,” Wyatt said, wishing he had a better answer.

“I believe she would be within her legal rights to get that marriage annulled if you start stomping all over her medical wishes,” the doctor countered. “I would give the very real and honest advice to both of you that pushing this is going to create a whole lot of complications you don’t want. Your best hope for saving your marriage is to drop it. Step back for a little while. Let your wife heal, and then go from there.”

“Why doesn’t she want me to know?” Wyatt scowled at her. “What is it? If she just took something, that’s not—”

“Go home, Wyatt.”

“No!” Wyatt shouted. “I’m not leaving until I see her!”

“She doesn’t want to see you.” The doctor held up her hands. “I’m sorry. She was very adamant about it. I’m not going to force a patient who is in a fragile medical state into a situation that would cause her stress. If you have to sue me, then so be it.”

“It was just a fight! People fight!” Wyatt yelled, his voice echoing off the stark, white walls. “Tell her I’m sorry. Sometimes I say dumb shit, but she knows I don’t mean it. She knows that about me!”

“I believe she does.” The doctor smiled, and Wyatt could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes, but then she turned away and ran a hand through her hair. “I’ll tell her what you said.”

“This can’t happen,” Wyatt said frantically. “I love that girl in there more than air. She can’t be sick, and I can’t be out here while she’s in there. I’m supposed to be with her.”

The doctor opened up the door and gestured to it. “Let her be for now. Give her a night to heal. In the morning things may be better.”

“Come on, Wy.” His father nudged his arm. “We’ll go home. I’ll call my lawyer first thing in the morning. This ain’t over.”

Wyatt stayed on the couch stubbornly. “I can wait for her in the waiting room, right? I can stay there until she’s released. I can stay there for a week if I have to. I need to see her.”

“Wyatt,” the doctor said softly. “What you don’t know is that you have an angel looking out for you. Why not make all her effort worthwhile and go home for tonight?”

“What?” Wyatt frowned, feeling like this doctor was speaking another language.

“Someone loves you. Be thankful.”

“Did Tabitha say she loves me?” Wyatt pressed.

“Yes, Wyatt, she did.” The doctor nodded. “But she wants you to go home.”

Wyatt threw up his hands in defeat and then stood because he didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize Tabitha’s health. “I guess.”

“Okay.” She smiled, and again, her eyes appeared watery as she opened the door wider.

Wyatt walked out behind his father, but then he turned back and grabbed the doctor’s arm. “Listen to me, Doc. You tell Tabitha I love her. Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to her. All she needs to do is come back to me.”

She nodded. “I’ll tell her.”

* * *

It was the first time in Wyatt’s life his father broke a promise to him.

He didn’t get to see her again.

Tabitha never came back to him.

Two days after her overdose, Terry showed up at their doorstep. He looked tired and worn thin, but Wyatt didn’t have any sympathy for him. He had been sick with grief for days.

“Is she with you?” Wyatt barked, wondering why he hadn’t thought of Terry in the first place. “I went to her house because the hospital told me they’d discharged her, but her brother said she left and—”

“She was with me,” Terry said hesitantly. “I picked her up from the hospital last night.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you call me?” Wyatt yelled at him. “I’ve been puking my guts up for two days. What the hell is wrong with you? Is she okay? Where is she?”

“She—” Terry sighed and looked past Wyatt to Jules and Clay standing behind him. “She left, Wyatt. I took her to the airport. She wanted to leave.”

“Over an argument?” A crazed laugh burst out of Wyatt. “One fight in all this time, and she leaves me. This is bullshit! Something ain’t right. I don’t buy it. Where was she going?”

“She wouldn’t tell me.” Terry shrugged. “She said I’d tell you.”

“We can track plane records,” Jules cut in. “We can find a way. We ain’t even certain she’s medically sound. That hospital is looking at a big lawsuit.”

“She wanted me to give you this.” Terry handed him an envelope. “I’m sorry, Wyatt.”

Wyatt looked at the envelope in his hand, already knowing he didn’t want to open it. “This ain’t happening,” he whispered as he flipped it over, seeing his name written in Tabitha’s neat handwriting. “This is a breakup letter.”

Terry shrugged again as tears welled up in his eyes. He wiped at his cheeks hastily and said, “Yeah, Wyatt, it probably is. I really am sorry. You have no idea how much.”

Wyatt turned away from the door before his emotions got the better of him and he punched the messenger. He let his sister say good-bye to Terry. He just sat numbly on the couch and stared at the letter in his hand. Clay sat beside him, and it was one of the nice things about his best friend. He didn’t press anything. He simply let Wyatt digest that his life had just been shattered.

He was still staring at the letter an hour later when Jules spoke from her seat on the other side of him. “Are you gonna open it?”

He shook his head. “If I open it, that’ll mean it’s over.”

“I’m sorry, Wy Wy.” Jules wrapped an arm around him and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. She cried the tears he felt too dead inside to cry and then reached over and took it from him. “Do you want me to open it for you?”

“No, burn it instead.”

“Wyatt, you need to know what it says,” Clay finally broke his silence to say somberly. “If you don’t know, it’ll drive you crazy. We all need to know why she would do this. It’s like she betrayed all of us by turning to that crap. We need a good reason. There has to be one.”

He took it back from his sister, knowing Clay was probably right. He could hear the hurt in Clay’s voice, the absolute denial that this was happening. There was some clue in this envelope about why the girl he had loved for as long as he could remember would leave him over one fight.

It was a terrible fight, but still.

He stood and stuffed the envelope into his back pocket. “I’m going outside.”

“You want me to go with you?” Jules asked him and then wiped at her cheeks. “We’ll both go with you.”

“I know.” He nodded and gave her a weak smile. “But I think I should be by myself when I read it.”

“Okay.” She reached out to poke his side in a way that would have been playful any other day but today. “We’ll be here.”

He went out to the lake in back, remembering all the times he walked Tabitha from her car in the dead of night to get her up to his bedroom so they could laugh and love each other without anyone else in the world getting in the way. He sat down heavily on a rock by the embankment and used care to open the envelope when usually he would tear one open.

He pulled out the letter and stared down at it, willing some sort of peace for himself.

Wyatt,

Please be happy.

Love life like only you can.

Be amazing at everything you do.

Never stop being silly. I always loved you for it, even when I said I didn’t.

Letting me stay gone is your last gift to me, and I know in my heart you’ll give it to me. You said I could have anything. This is what I want.

I’m sorry. I know the moon would’ve been easier.

I will never, not until the day I stop breathing air, regret what we had together.

My childhood was beautiful because of you.

Thank you for staying a perfect memory,

Tabitha

Wyatt stared down at the letter until the words started to run. He realized he was crying again when he thought the tears had dried up days ago. He hated this letter. He abhorred it for containing the one thing that would keep him from going after her. He wanted to ball it up and throw it in the lake, but he couldn’t. This letter told him something happened. He could see through the lines, could read the intensity of it. The wild desperation on Tabitha’s part not to be found. What if it was something Wyatt couldn’t face? Worse, what if seeing him somehow reminded her of what she was trying to escape and pushed her to do something rash again? Jules said Tabitha made him stupid, and he knew his sister was usually right about most things. He just never expected that blind love and stupidity to damage Tabitha, but it had. He’d broken his own rule in life.

He didn’t want to hurt her. Not again. He would do anything to prevent it.

He folded it up and stuck it in the envelope instead. Then he slid his wedding ring off his finger and threw it into the lake in its place.

That was his final gift to Tabitha.

He never could say no to his girl.

Chapter Twenty-Six

August, 2000

New York City

“My brother could take that guy, you know? Just ’cause he got a technical knockout in the first round don’t mean nothing.”

Tabitha looked over at the kid sitting next to her in the bar. He was obviously Italian, with the New York accent to match. She instantly liked him. Her little nook of New York was mostly Italian, which was the reason she’d settled here after shopping for apartments for such a long time. They had a brassiness to them she appreciated.

It sort of reminded her of Wyatt.

“Oh yeah?” Tabitha turned in her stool and arched a skeptical eyebrow at him. “You sure ’bout that? He’s pretty badass. I saw him do a roundhouse off the cage once that’d knock your socks off.”

“Hell, my brother’s bigger than him.” He gestured to the television hanging over the bar that was broadcasting the UFC fight. “And he’s got a whole shitload of black belts. He could kick his ass blindfolded.”

“Your brother sounds like a scary guy. Does he know you’re hanging out in a bar?”

“Nah, what my brother doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He shrugged with a mischievous grin. “Besides, I got a reason for being here.”

“What’s your reason?”

“I’m taking care of business.”

Tabitha laughed, which was nice. She hadn’t laughed much since she’d left Wyatt.

“Nova, stop busting my customers’ balls,” the bartender said. “Shoo. Your brother will tan your hide if he finds out you’re hanging around here.”

“What, I can’t have a fucking conversation?” Nova held up his hands indignantly.

“He’s not bothering me,” Tabitha told the bartender. “He’s fine.”

“I like you, lady.” Nova nudged her arm. “What’s your name?”

“Tabitha.”

“Okay, Tabitha, so what’re you doing sitting here watching this bum win another fight?”

“I dunno.” Tabitha smiled up at the television, watching the after-fight footage from the UFC fight. She had been sitting there most of the afternoon, and now it was just replays and locker-room interviews, but she still enjoyed it. “Just remembering a dream, I guess. I’m a big fan.”

“Him.” Nova pointed at the TV once more. “The Deputy?”

“Yeah.” Tabitha nodded. “He’s amazing.”

“You gotta get out more.” Nova snorted. “He’s cheesy as hell.”

“He is,” Tabitha agreed with another laugh. “He’s silly. Totally crazy, but that’s always what I liked ’bout him. You want me to buy you a Coke?”

Nova shrugged. “Sure. My game doesn’t start for another hour.”

“What game you playing?”

“Poker.”

“Poker?” she repeated in disbelief. “What happened to football?”

“My ma’s sick. What kinda money do you think I’d make playing football? Unless I was betting on it, but you and me know that’s never a good bet. I like games I can win.”

“I’m sorry your mother’s sick,” Tabitha whispered softly.

“She’s gonna get better,” Nova said confidently. “I’m gonna pay for good doctors. Not these crackpot state doctors she’s forced to go to now. I’ve been researching her cancer. They got these new drugs that have a really high success rate. They’re testing them at the Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. I’m gonna get her there ’cause the doctors she’s got now are saying she’s only got a ten percent chance. That just can’t be right.”

“No,” Tabitha agreed and had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from welling up. “It ain’t right at all.”

“But enough money, and I’ll get her the medicine she needs.” Nova sounded so determined Tabitha almost believed him.

“I’ll tell you what.” Tabitha reached down and picked up her purse. She opened it and pulled out her wallet. “I’m gonna give you something else besides buying you a Coke.”

“Like what?” Nova frowned, as if the idea was foreign to him.

Tabitha pulled out a hundred-dollar bill she had in an envelope for rent, knowing she really couldn’t afford to part with it now that she was living in New York. She had a job, but she didn’t make much. Her savings was almost gone, but some things were more important than security.

She handed it to Nova. “This is for you.”

“What the hell?” Nova took the money and looked at it in shock. “You’re just giving it to me for nothing?”

“Yup.” Tabitha nodded. “It’s yours. I want you to have it.”

“There’s gotta be a catch. There’s always a catch.”

“Not always,” she assured him. “There are heroes in the world, Nova. You just have to know how to look out for them.”

“I don’t believe in heroes,” Nova said with absolute conviction.

“But you should.” Tabitha smiled and looked up at the TV once more, seeing Wyatt being interviewed. “All children should believe in heroes. Even ones whose mamas are sick.”

“Man, this is really incredible.” Nova stared at the hundred-dollar bill in his hand with total awe. “Thank you. I’ll find a way to pay you back. If you give me your address, I can mail it to you once I find more poker games. You can just tell me. I’ll remember it.”

“You don’t have to.” She reached out and ruffled his dark hair. “It’s a gift.”

Nova nodded. “Okay.”

“Have fun playing poker.” Tabitha hopped off the stool and put her purse on her shoulder. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Lady, you don’t even know,” the bartender said as she started toward the door. “Trouble is Nova Moretti’s middle name.”

“Not from where I’m standing. He’s taking care of business. I get it.” Tabitha leaned into Nova and said, “I hope you win a million dollars playing poker.”

Then she walked up the street to her apartment and sat behind the old computer she’d bought because she thought the Internet was the easiest way to keep track of Wyatt and Clay’s fighting now that they were making national names for themselves.

Tabitha searched through the files until she found a word-processing program. She brought it up and stared at the screen for a little while. Writers needed good names, and Tabitha Conner wouldn’t work. If she did, that the whole world would know there was a real-life hero planted in Garnet. He was already famous, and that might be more exposure than he wanted if by some chance a publisher actually bought the book. Then, in a moment of brilliance, she simply reversed the spelling of Conner to be Rennoc so he’d still be there with her on the journey.

The Beginning, A Heroes of Sapphire County Novel by T.C. Rennoc

Tabitha sort of liked the sound of it. She liked the title too, and once she had those down, the first book was easy. She’d lived most of it. It was wild and fanciful, full of intimidating villains and even more powerful heroes, but it wasn’t fantasy to her. That was always how she saw Wyatt. He’d been a hero from the very beginning, and it made losing him less painful by reliving it again.

Her hopes weren’t high. Luck had never been her friend, but hell, at this point she would give the stories away if she had to. Like she’d told Nova down in the bar, all kids should believe in heroes.

Part Seven

The Eye of the Storm

Every fighter has a story that could break your heart.

We lose, we get hurt, and everything comes apart.

That’s when it’s so difficult to stay on the straight and narrow.

—Barry McGuigan

Chapter Twenty-Seven

July 2012

A beam of sunlight filtered in past the window and hit Tabitha’s hair in such a way that it lit up just like Wyatt remembered. The silky strands danced with every color from copper to gold, and he fingered them thoughtfully as Tabitha lay over his chest, sleeping deeply, as if she hadn’t had a decent moment’s rest since she left.

There was a strange collision of joy and agony that made his heart hurt. He knew he should slip out from beneath Tabitha, get dressed, and walk away, but just thinking about it was like asking Wyatt to stop breathing. He had loved Tabitha for as long as he could remember, and what people didn’t understand was that kind of connection didn’t just stop because he wanted it to.

There were plenty of easier women to love, but for some reason, fate had thrown them together. She was magnetic, and he was steel, and even the most malevolent forces couldn’t force them apart once she got near enough to touch.

He could hear his cell phone buzzing in his jeans that had been tossed so carelessly on the floor earlier. He would have ignored it if it weren’t the fourteenth time he heard it go off, and those were the times he was counting. As gently as possible, he reached over the side of the side of the bed and felt blindly for his jeans. When he found them, he struggled to pull his phone out of his pocket one-handed and then looked at the screen.

Jules

Missed Calls (16)

If that wasn’t bad enough, there was also a whole list of text messages from his sister that ended with the not so subtle, If you have even an ounce of common sense and self-preservation, you’ll finally give her those divorce papers I know you’ve got stuffed in the back of your desk drawer.

That had actually been Wyatt’s plan when he’d left Hal’s Diner that morning after finding out Tabitha was back in town. He’d been determined to get some answers and discuss finally ending their ruse of a marriage, but the idea had seemed ridiculous in the face of actually seeing his wife again.

The next text confirmed his sister knew him better than he knew himself.

But we both know she makes you stupid. You’re probably curled up naked and daydreaming about happy endings and redheaded grandbabies.

He rolled his eyes, not for the first time cursing the powers that be that stuck him with a twin. He and Jules thought and acted alike more than either of them was willing to admit. It made very little difference that Jules was a woman. The reason she knew he was dumb for love was she was more than guilty of the exact same thing.

The past year taught them all that.

He was still pondering it when another message popped up, and he could almost hear the panicked desperation in Jules’s voice as he read it.

Please don’t let her hurt you again.

Wyatt held down the button until his phone turned off rather than acknowledge his sister, who had just put voice to his darkest fears and left him feeling open and exposed to the point that the pain in his chest doubled and his breathing fell shallow.

He tossed it on the bed with more force than necessary, and Tabitha shifted over him, as if sensing his sudden bout of anxiety at the thought of losing her again. She smoothed a hand down his chest, making it clear they still shared a truly unique connection that left them joined in far more ways than just the superficial sexual attraction that had always been crippling in its intensity.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice heavy with sleep.

He hated that everything in him tensed at the sound of the soul-deep exhaustion he could hear beneath her concern. It made him want to wrap her up in his arms and keep her safe from the world. He wanted to resent her for churning up his protective instincts so easily, but it just wasn’t there. Instead he just soothed a hand down the slender curve of her bare back, savoring the feel of her smooth skin.

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, unable to help the action because her hair really was startlingly beautiful in the sun. “I’m fine, darlin’.”

She blinked up at him, studying his face intently for several long seconds before she whispered, “Liar.”

A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. He couldn’t hide from her. He was anything but fine, but rather than confirm her suspicions, he just caressed her back once more. “Go back to sleep.”

She hummed. The sound was soft and sweet, and something that made the nostalgia almost overwhelming because Tabitha had always been a very quiet person. To others she was often hard to read, but Wyatt had always heard the unspoken message in those little sighs. He wasn’t even surprised when she pressed her lips to his collarbone next. He could feel the sheen of goose bumps travel over his skin at the brush of her breath, warm and featherlight against his chest as she continued to press soft, loving kisses against it. Her hand ran over his abdominal muscles and down to his waist as she shifted over him, giving herself better access to his body. His dick was already trying to come back to life again despite the two of them doing it three times before she’d fallen asleep.

He watched her, entranced as her eyes drifted close as if she were savoring touching him as much as he enjoyed letting her. Her hand slid down to his ass, cupping it as another soft sigh of indulgence slipped past her lips.

“I missed you, Wy.” The confession was barely audible, but he heard it, and he groaned in response.

He pushed both his hands into her vibrant hair, holding Tabitha to him with the thought that his sister was fucking crazy if she thought he was capable of handing this woman a stack of papers that would break his connection to her. He could feel it, a complete surrender to the hold Tabitha had on his heart, and he didn’t even fight against it. The poison was too sweet, too wholly addictive for Wyatt to complain about the pain it caused him to know he was never going to be free of the heartache loving her caused.

He didn’t release his hold on her as she moved lower, kissing and licking his fevered skin until he was shifting under her, hard and restless for the feel of her slick, tight heat once more. “Lemme love you,” he rasped when she nipped lightly at his hip bone. Then she cupped his balls, and his entire body jerked from the sensation. “Fuck, Tab.” He dropped his head heavily against the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut against the pleasure, robbing him of the image of her beautiful face hovering near his dick that was straining for another taste of her. She stroked him next, and he pushed his hips into the embrace of her hand with another low curse. “Shit.”

For one brief second, the thought that he hadn’t showered drifted into his mind. Tabitha didn’t seem to care as she took him in her mouth, tasting both of them on his dick. He could feel her hum of pleasure against the head of his cock as she sucked him, and it was as if the other three times hadn’t happened.

The bliss of her mouth on him made the need so blinding he felt it in every muscle in his body. He tightened his fingers in her hair as she took him deeper. He let out a choked sound of pleasure, because he’d forgotten how amazing it was to let her love him like this. How had he survived without it?

It didn’t take her long to have him sweating and pushing his hips up over and over again as she stroked and sucked him. Even if there were a few awkward moments as she reacquainted herself with the feel of him, it didn’t matter, because this was Tabitha touching him. Just being near her made him ache.

He found himself hovering on the edge of oblivion for a long while. The time they spent together earlier gave him the ability to really enjoy everything about this moment, and he was able to truly appreciate it in a way he hadn’t when he was younger. The hot rush of pleasure. The pulse of desire that made it impossible to think about anything other than the image of Tabitha’s lips stretched wide over his cock. Her short hair brushing against his stomach. Her smooth, capable hand sliding up and down his length in a steady rhythm that was pushing him toward a release faster than he realized.

He was so caught up in everything that when his climax did slam into him, it was so hard and fast it startled him. He shouted in warning and loosened his hold on her hair, but that was all he could manage before the energy that had been building finally exploded, hazing everything around him with the velocity of it, and then he was pulsing in her hand and shooting in her mouth. Just like it was before, Tabitha seemed to enjoy his taste as she sucked greedily, suspending the bliss for what felt like an eternity, because that had always turned him on like crazy.

He was still humming in the afterglow when she released him and kissed her way back up until she was draped over him once more as if the episode had never happened to begin with, but Wyatt wasn’t going to let something that mind-blowing go without reciprocating.

He shifted their positions and rolled over with Tabitha until she was curled into his side. He buried his face into the curve of her neck and placed a kiss against the steady thump of her heartbeat that was faster than normal and told him what she wasn’t going to voice out loud. His pressed his lips against the shell of her ear and reached down between her legs that she parted without him asking. He slid his fingers between the small triangle of red hair, finding her wet for him. “Are you sore?”

She was quiet before she confessed in a disappointed whisper, “Yes.” She grasped his wrist, squeezing softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He traced the outline of her sex, making her breath catch. “I can be gentle.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Hush,” he scolded, still teasing her lightly. “I like touching you. I like listening to you too.”

Her breath hitched once more, and she tilted her head forward from where it rested on his arm. She lifted her leg, draping it over his thighs behind her, opening herself wide to his exploration.

“Are you gonna come for me, Tabby?”

She gasped with pleasure, before she let out a shuddering sigh and nodded.

“Tell me,” he pushed, because he never believed it was good for her to be so closed up about what she wanted from life. “Tell me what you want.”

“Make me—” She paused for a long moment, as if searching for the right words. When his touch became more insistent, moving up to rub against her clit, she shuddered. “Make me feel good, Wy. Please.”

It wasn’t bold and brassy like he would’ve said it, but that was okay. She told him what she wanted, and he was intent on giving it to her. His touch was never more than soft and light, making the rising tide of ecstasy slow and profound. By the time she came, Tabitha’s skin was dewy with pleasure, her breathing labored, her little moans turned to gasps and broken phrases of desperation begging for more and more until she suddenly stiffened in his arms. Her body shuddered. She was no longer quiet and reserved as she let the tide wash over her. Wyatt held her, feeling as if his heart was swelling until the point that it might burst with how deeply he cared for this woman.

He held her after it was over, his arms so tight around her small frame he was likely crushing her as he tried to hold her close enough to keep her from slipping away again. Yet even in the afterglow, he knew how very unlikely that was. She didn’t want to be in Garnet, and he had six generations’ worth of obligation that said he was supposed to be sheriff until the day he died. He had a whole town that counted on him to do the job he was born to do, and it wasn’t something he could just walk away from—even for her.

In the end, it became too much. There was no easy solution, so Wyatt gave up. He fell asleep with her. Even in his dreams, he recognized it was the first peaceful rest he’d had in a very long time.

Wyatt didn’t want it, but without his permission, his heart started beating again.

It had always beat for Tabitha.

* * *

The Storm, A Heroes of Sapphire County Novel by T.C. Rennoc

Tabitha stared at the new title to a book that had been nothing but a blank page for the past year and half. Her publisher had been beyond pissed with her for a long time now over the extended case of writer’s block. Her fans even more so.

She couldn’t tell anyone she wasn’t capable of writing it because she didn’t know how it was supposed to go. It hadn’t happened yet. Her last book, The End of Innocence, had finished with a horrible cliffhanger. The heroine, Betsy, had left her longtime boyfriend, Garrett Shaw, to protect him from a terrible secret. Her brother sold her to the villains for something as worthless as money. Betsy had been forced to leave. If she hadn’t, Garrett, a superhero with humbling strength and speed, would’ve turned into something dark and sinister. She’d witnessed the darkness in him before. She’d rather see him weakened than turned into the thing he’d been raised to fight against.

All heroes had a weakness, even Garrett Shaw.

Betsy hadn’t been raped in the book. It was a story for young people, which was why Tabitha made the reason her brother sold her a little more palpable than drugs. Money, people could understand. A quick high was beyond heartless, even for an evil minion. In the book she had just been tortured and forced to give up her own powers to the villains. Betsy’s gifts weren’t as amazing as Garrett, or his sister Guinevere, or even his best friend Rocky, but hers could be used for terrible things in the wrong hands. Betsy’s gift was to drain any superhero of their powers, which was what had made her love affair with the biggest hero of Sapphire County so beautifully tragic. Every time he touched her, he got a little weaker.

Betsy was Garrett’s kryptonite, but he loved her anyway.

When the villains had won by draining the last of Garrett’s superhuman strength from him, it hadn’t even mattered. He was a broken young man. He didn’t want to fight anymore. It was a terrible place to leave off the series. When she wrote it, she told herself she’d fix the tragedy with the next book. She was a creative person. She could make up a better ending than the two star-crossed lovers dying old, weak, and alone, but the story had never come to her. She didn’t know how to fix it.

Tabitha smiled. Wyatt had turned out much better than where she’d left Garrett off in the books. She was proud of him, and she started writing for the first time in months, and this time she wasn’t inclined to delete it twenty minutes after she started.

Tabitha began to type. Three years later. She paused, reflecting that it was better than saying thirteen years, and added in that Betsy sat at her mother’s bedside, back home in Sapphire County after so long.

Tabitha was grateful to be writing again, and the words flowed as her fingers swept over the keystrokes. It was almost as if she’d never stopped.

She even borrowed the scene of her throwing up in the flowers despite it being horrifying in reality. Somehow laying herself bare in books was cleansing in a way few would understand. She was already to the part where Garrett took her to the cabin Betsy had rented from her friend Tony—a popular side character from the earlier books—when Wyatt came into the kitchen. He was bare-chested and barefoot, wearing only his jeans from earlier.

God, he was a sight with blond hair still mussed from the sex and that big, powerful body on display. He had to weigh at least thirty pounds more than he had when she left, and it was all muscle.

“Howdy, Sheriff.” She couldn’t help but grin at him. “You’re fine inspiration for a starving artist at this late hour.”

“Starving, huh?” He sat down across from her at the table and eyed her laptop. “Ain’t ya got a movie coming out next year?”

“Not my movie.” She looked back at the computer. “Someone else is making it. They just bought the rights.”

“You think they’re gonna cast someone handsome and charming to play Garrett Shaw?” Wyatt wagged his eyebrows, though the mirth didn’t reach his eyes the way it used to.

Tabitha laughed anyway. “I’m sure they will.”

“You wanna talk ’bout these books?” Wyatt asked her softly as his smile faded, and he went back to studying her intently. “I read them, Tabby. All of them.”

Tabitha closed her laptop rather than answer, and she stared at it for a long time before she whispered, “Wyatt—”

He shook his head before she could finish. “Forget I asked.”

“No, you have a right to ask,” she whispered. “I know I put a lot of things in there. Maybe they were things you wanted kept private and—”

“That’s not what I was saying.” Wyatt cut her off. “I don’t care what you use of my life. If it helps you, I want ya to put whatever the hell you want ’bout me in those books.”

“I just wanted kids to believe in heroes,” she said, hoping he understood in a way she always imagined he did when the books got so much more popular than she’d anticipated. “Kids like I was, who don’t have a reason to hope for someone to save them. You did that for me, Wyatt. You gave me that. No matter what happens after all this, please don’t ever forget that.”

Wyatt leaned his elbows against the table and put his face in his hands. “But I didn’t, did I? I read the last book. Garrett failed Betsy—horribly.”

“No, he didn’t. Betsy failed herself. She failed Garrett too.”

“Why’d you leave?” He said the words into his hands. “Please tell me.”

“No,” Tabitha whispered because she didn’t have a better defense against the question so soon after seeing him again. She didn’t know why she was surprised he would throw it at her. This was Wyatt she was dealing with. “I’m asking you not to press it. Please.”

Wyatt’s jaw locked. She could see the fury glowing in his eyes, something dark and far more formidable than she created in fiction. He stood up with a growl and turned away from her. He ran both his hands through his hair. Then he took a long, cooling breath as if searching for sanity.

“Did someone hurt you? Brett and Vaughn were living over in Mercy at that time, but I know your mama used to have lots of people over. Your uncles, their friends, that house was always full of criminals,” he snapped as if he’d lost the battle with himself. “I read the last book. I know it was something. I never believed it was just that fight. You don’t have to tell me what happened. Just give me a name and—”

“Wyatt—”

“Fine.” He threw up his hands and turned from her again. “I’m dropping it.”

“Thank you,” Tabitha whispered, even if she knew this wouldn’t last.

He covered his face with his hand as he stood there, the anger and emotion vibrating off him so strongly Tabitha could almost taste it. Finally, he said, “Why did I leave you that night? So young and stupid. Why did I start that fucking fight? I’d give anything to take it back.”

“Please don’t do this.” Tabitha wiped at her eyes frantically. “I shouldn’t have come back. I knew this was a mistake, and I sure as heck shouldn’t have gotten into your car earlier. We can’t fix this. We’re broken, Wy.”

“No, Tab.” Wyatt jumped forward and grabbed her by both arms so quickly she gasped. He forced her out of the chair. Then he hugged her tightly and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Listen to me, darlin’. You and me, we’re going to work together to make sure coming back wasn’t a mistake. I have no idea how we’re going to do it, but we are, okay? Whatever time we have, we’re going to make the best of it. We both got demons, but we’re going to hide them. We’ll shove them in a closet somewhere until we can get to a point that we can deal with them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it’s supposed to happen,” Tabitha told him with authority, because she had been going to support groups since she first got to New York and recognized what a complete mess the rape and losing Wyatt had made her. “We could be doing more damage than good by lying to ourselves and trying to make this work. I don’t want it to be impossible for us, but I think—”

“It ain’t impossible,” Wyatt told her with that hard driving confidence he’d obviously never grown out of. “Nothing is impossible, especially if it’s worth fighting for, and you have always been worth fighting for. I should’ve fought the first time. I ain’t making that mistake again, and I don’t care how many letters you write me asking me not to.”

God, she wanted to believe it was so easy.

She needed this too. It felt so good to be in his arms again, and she had been so desperately lonely without him. She had forgotten how invincible Wyatt made her feel. He forced her to believe in happily ever afters, even if life had taught her time and again, in painful and traumatizing ways, that it was impossible. She wanted to know how the story was supposed to end, but for Wyatt’s sake she should have told him no and walked away.

Tabitha had doomed them both by agreeing to move into the old Conner house instead.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

November 2012

A strange thing about demons.

Tabitha discovered they could hide in closets as long as everyone in the house was willing to keep the door shut. She and Wyatt made a commitment to keep them locked away, and it had worked amazingly well for months now.

Life wasn’t perfect, but it was close.

Her book was coming along nicely.

Jules was so busy with the final days of her pregnancy. She didn’t have much time to worry about them. Of course, that was Wyatt’s version, and Tabitha knew he always lied about those things. He spent Tuesday and Thursday evenings at her house while Romeo taught his karate classes. He usually came back bitching about Jules’s bad attitude since she’d been stuck on bed rest, but that was all Tabitha really knew about it.

Tabitha’s mother had come through her heart surgery well and was back home and recovering. Tabitha had paid a crew to do work on the house, and then she spent one full week cleaning it while her mother was in the hospital. She bought new furniture, and new linens for the beds. The house wasn’t spectacular, but it was clean and a vast improvement over what she’d found the first day back home.

She had learned well from the mistakes of the past and brought Wyatt with her this time because there was no way she was going to risk being alone with Brett. There was a part of her that knew she was delusional for being in that house at all. Her mother didn’t deserve Tabitha’s help any more than Brett did. She had left Tabitha in that hospital, knowing something terrible had happened. She’d chosen to protect Brett instead. There were days Tabitha wondered if her mother second-guessed calling 911 in the first place. At this point, she didn’t really give a fuck what her brother and mother thought about her living in the old Conner house. The whole dang town was talking about it anyway, and she didn’t owe any of them an explanation.

If Tabitha was being honest with herself, she enjoyed the pale-faced look on her brother’s face when she walked into the house with baskets full of fresh towels and Wyatt towering at her back like a dark guardian from Brett’s worst nightmares.

Good, let him sweat about it.

She wasn’t going to tell Wyatt what happened, but Brett didn’t need to know that. She hoped he passed the word on to Vaughn, and they both disappeared into the night. Tabitha might still battle with a lifetime of post-traumatic stress thanks to those two, but she wasn’t twenty-one and naive anymore. She knew how to protect herself, even if that meant Wyatt was stuck cleaning that horrible house with her.

He hadn’t even complained about it. Tabitha suspected Wyatt enjoyed the fear he caused as much as she did. Tabitha was almost sorry Vaughn wasn’t there, but then again, she knew it was a good thing he wasn’t. She wasn’t ready to face him again. Just knowing he was in town somewhere had her holed up in Wyatt’s house when she wasn’t forced to run errands.

Anytime she was out without Wyatt, she broke into a cold sweat. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, and she detested Vaughn for it. If she didn’t love Wyatt as much as she did, she would have told him just to rid herself of the fear.

She hated it.

But today was a good day as she and Wyatt shopped together in the hardware store for some supplies for his house. All that work on her old place had the two of them plotting to fix up his. He didn’t want it modernized; he wanted it restored, and it was a fun project.

“What’d you think of this?” Tabitha held up a sample of wallpaper to him. “It’s ’bout the same yellow as the one you got in the kitchen.”

Wyatt picked it up and studied it. “I guess. Lighter than what we got now.”

“I think it’ll look nice.” Tabitha took it back and held it out. “Terry told me any yellow you buy should be two shades lighter than what you think you want; otherwise you’ll hate it once you get it on the walls.”

“Why?”

Tabitha shrugged. “I dunno, but I reckon he knows what he’s talking ’bout.”

“Yeah, I reckon so,” Wyatt agreed and then turned around with a scowl as if sensing someone staring at him in that cop-like way he had. “Can I help you, Davis?”

Tabitha sucked in a hard breath but refused to turn around.

“What? Is it illegal to be in a hardware store?”

The icy shiver of fear spread from the back of Tabitha’s neck into her limbs. She reached out to the sample book of wallpaper and placed the piece back, looking for something to hide the shake in her hands.

“What you buying there, boy?”

“Nothing,” Vaughn said defensively.

“Yeah, you better put it back.” Wyatt turned to Tabitha, a scowl still on his face. He stepped closer to her and said under his breath, “You know, they use those scrubbing pads to smoke crack. They think I’m stupid, but I ain’t. I know my business. I’m calling Adam when we get back. I want him patrolling round the Davis place. I swear to God, if it’s the last thing I do, I’m gonna make sure that boy dies behind bars. You know he got off on two counts of possession with nothing but time served and parole. Ain’t that some shit?”

“Yeah, it is.” Tabitha nodded.

“I hate that fucker.” Wyatt’s voice was still low in fury. “I ain’t never got over him threatening you like he did. I know it was a long time ago, but still. I think the only reason I do this job is the hopes of catching him red-handed one of these days. I’m glad he saw us together. Scare him a little. Scare him even more when he sees Adam’s patrol car rolling past his house every half an hour.”

“Yeah, it’s good,” Tabitha whispered as she fought the bile rising in the back of his throat. “Is he gone?”

“You okay?” Wyatt leaned in and studied her. “You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

Tabitha swallowed hard. “I ain’t all that fond of him either.”

“Yeah, I bet not.” Wyatt put an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close to him. “Come on, Tabby Cat. Take a deep breath. I got ya.”

Tabitha did as she was told, taking one more deep breath as she whispered, “I know.”

“Let’s get out of here.” He closed the sample book. “We’ll grab a bite at Hal’s.”

“I can cook.”

“I can buy my girl a meal.” Wyatt rubbed her arm and gave her a smile. “You’re always cooking.”

“I’d rather go home. I like seeing Hal, but Clay’s girlfriend works there and—”

“You don’t like Melody?” Wyatt asked in surprise. “Everyone likes her.”

“She’s very sweet,” Tabitha agreed, still feeling dazed. “But I know Clay’s bitter over the drug overdose. I know he has issues with stuff like that. He hasn’t said more than two words to me since I got back and—”

“Hey.” Wyatt cut her off, his eyes wide in shock because Tabitha had accidently opened one of their demon closets while she tried to work on recovering from the horror of hearing Vaughn’s voice again. “Anyone could take extra medication on accident. No one’s holding that against you.”

Tabitha turned to him in surprise, still completely caught up with the horrible anxiety attack. “Is that what she told you that night?”

“Who? The doctor?” Wyatt scowled. “Yeah. Why? Was she lying?”

“You think Clay bought that?” A manic laugh burst out of her. She understood Wyatt was in some sort of massive denial over that night. He would never believe she was capable of taking illegal drugs, but Clay knew her mother wouldn’t have called 911 unless Tabitha was almost dead. “You honestly believe he’s been avoiding me like the plague because he thinks I took too many over-the-counter pills?”

“I actually think he’s avoiding you because he’s watched me hurt for so long over our breakup. Sometimes he’s too loyal for his own good.”

“We should go.” Tabitha pulled out of his arms before Wyatt could argue.

“Tab—”

“I’ll cook,” Tabitha announced as she kept walking to the door, hoping to God Vaughn had already peeled out of the parking lot.

* * *

Wyatt stretched out on the bed his sister shared with Romeo Wellings—a man who had been one of Wyatt’s least favorite people for a long time. Earlier that year Jules and Romeo had run off and gotten married in secret. Who said God didn’t have a sense of humor?

Wyatt folded his arms over his chest and looked away from the television to dart a glance at Jules. She was propped up next to him, surrounded by pillows, books, and electronics. Romeo had spent a small fortune to keep Jules entertained when the doctors put her on bed rest a month ago.

There were days when Romeo still grated on Wyatt’s last nerve, but he didn’t envy the man for putting up with Jules when she was cranky, bedridden, and uncomfortably huge in the last few weeks of pregnancy. Romeo had to love Jules, because she had been unbearable for a while now, and he hadn’t complained once.

“Tabitha and me have been talking ’bout finally changing Dad’s room,” Wyatt started cautiously.

Jules’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t look away from the Bruce Lee movie. “I’ve been asking you to update that house for years, but Tabitha comes along and—”

“We’re not updating. We’re restoring,” he countered, keeping his voice even rather than upset his sister. “I ain’t gonna do it if you don’t want me to. I was just asking what you thought. Your opinion on it matters, Ju Ju.”

“Are you gonna move into Daddy’s old room with her?” Jules still hadn’t looked away from the television.

“No,” Wyatt said defensively. “I ain’t ready for that. I just thought we could get the demons out.”

Yeah, the demons were slowly starting to drive Wyatt crazy. He couldn’t tackle the ones with Tabitha, so he started taking down other ones, and the agony over his father’s death was a big one.

“Have you asked her why she left yet?”

Wyatt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hated that Jules could read him so easily. “No.”

“Wyatt—”

“This is gonna start a fight.” He cut her off. “And Romeo threatened to hurt me if we got into it again. Just forget I asked.”

“You can’t keep on pretending she didn’t hurt you like she did,” Jules went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “You know I’m telling the truth. Why can’t you—”

Jules stopped talking when the heavy footfalls of someone stomping up the stairs echoed into her room.

“For the big mama!” Tino burst in, full of energy as usual as he held up two pints of ice cream triumphantly. “I got chocolate fudge and caramel swirl. Mama gets first choice.” He looked to Wyatt with a grimace. “I don’t buy ice cream for cops. Sorry, Sheriff, you’re shit outta luck.”

Wyatt flipped off Jules’s brother-in-law.

“Chocolate.” Jules took the ice cream and a spoon Tino had obviously grabbed from downstairs when he got home from the gym. “You’ve got to stop doing this. Neither of us can afford to gain any more weight.”

Despite the complaints, Jules started happily eating her ice cream.

“Aw, it’s just baby.” Tino fell down on Jules’s other side, making himself at home as he patted her rounded stomach affectionately. Then he pulled the lid off his ice cream and snuggled against the pillows, completely oblivious to personal space. He dug into his ice cream as he looked at the television. “Bruce Lee, cool.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes at Tino, who was always underfoot. Wyatt thought his family was bad growing up, but they didn’t touch the Italians. They were constantly in each other’s business. He didn’t know how his sister stood it, but oddly enough, she didn’t seem to mind.

“You know, Tino,” Wyatt started as he watched him inhale that ice cream, “you got another fight next month. I know you’re over the upper limit in your weight class. You can’t keep eating that shit.”

“Why do you give a fuck?” Tino took another bite and left the spoon in his mouth as he turned to Wyatt with his eyebrows raised.

“Because the Cellar is your sponsor. We back you,” Wyatt went on. “I have a vested interest in your success, and watching you put away carton after carton of ice cream is starting to make my blood pressure go up. Now I gave you a diet to go by; you should be following it.”

Tino pulled the spoon out of his mouth and gestured to Jules’s stomach with it. “She’s supposed to eat it, and family has to stick together. That’s more important than a fight.”

“No.” Wyatt shook his head. “It ain’t good for her either. Stop buying ice cream behind Romeo’s back. Every time I come over here during his classes, you two are eating it in secret.”

Tino huffed with indifference and turned to Jules. “What’s wrong with him?”

Jules snorted. “I don’t even know where to start with that one.”

“It’s that chick Tabitha,” Tino mused as he took another bite of ice cream. “I know you’re always giving him shit about her, but I think she’s hot. I like redheads. They’re my favorite flavor.”

“Tino,” Wyatt started warningly.

“What?” Tino asked him with a laugh as he waggled his eyebrows. “Scared?”

Wyatt growled and reached over Jules. He grabbed the carton out of Tino’s hand and tossed it across the room.

“Hello!” Jules shouted. “That carpet is new!”

“I don’t know how you stand him.” Wyatt fell back against the bed and folded his arms again. “I would go fucking crazy in this house. Visiting is bad enough.”

“Then leave if you don’t like it.” Tino got up and fetched the ice cream. Obviously deciding it was no worse for the wear, he stuck the spoon back into the carton. “Jules is right. That chick does make you stupid even if she is smoking hot.”

Wyatt turned to his sister, giving her a look of disbelief.

Jules shrugged unapologetically. “She does. It’s observable. Is there ice cream on the carpet?”

“Nah.” Tino walked back to the bed and then fell down next to Jules again. “Maybe you need to give him a break. I was stupid for a redhead once. I get it. I’d throw ice cream and end worlds for her too. I did end worlds for her, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Well, here’s hoping you two never hook up.” Jules sighed. “One of you is enough.”

“Yeah.” Tino took another bite. His gaze was on the television, but his thoughts seemed far off. “That would be bad. Very bad. Don’t ever tell Nova I mentioned her.”

Jules took another bite. “The secret’s safe.”

Tino still had that far-off, haunted look to him that Wyatt knew so well. It stirred up his own turbulent emotions that had been troubling him since they ran into Vaughn Davis at the hardware store. Wyatt reached over and took the spoon from Jules, helping himself to a bite of her ice cream before he confessed, “She’s started having nightmares. It’s disturbing me. I know she’s hiding something.”

“Her mama’s almost recovered from that surgery.” Jules held out the carton, letting Wyatt have another bite. “Maybe she’s planning on leaving again, and the stress is giving her the nightmares. She does have a life back in Key West. I don’t think she expected to be here this long.”

Wyatt took a breath past the crushing sensation the thought of losing her again caused. “God, Jules, if she leaves again, you might as well take me out to the firing range and use me for target practice.”

Jules hit his shoulder. “Stop being stupid!”

“It ain’t even a lie either.” Wyatt dug into the carton again. He let the ice cream melt on his tongue as he considered the past four months that had been blissful and happy as long as he and Tabitha didn’t acknowledge the lie they were living. “It’s the reason I’ve been keeping you two as far apart as possible. Last thing I need is for you to start barking questions and scare her away.”

Tino laughed. “She is pretty scary, especially when those pregnancy hormones start raging.”

Jules gave him a look of annoyance. “Tino, you are a pain in the ass.”

“See what I’m saying?” Tino snorted. “Be glad you’re across town getting busy with your redhead instead of dealing with her shit every day.”

Jules reached over and punched him, getting him hard in the arm, but Tino just laughed and grabbed one of the pillows, using it to deflect her next hit.

“Ain’t she supposed to be taking it easy?” Wyatt pointed out with a frown.

“I am so sick of this bed.” Jules grabbed another pillow and hit Tino with it. “You’d be in a bitchy mood too.”

She shoved Tino, using considerable strength to push him over the edge. They both laughed when he landed on the floor with a loud thump.

Tino reached up with his pillow and hit her, knocking the ice cream out of her hand. She screeched when the chocolate spilled on her bedsheets. It got Wyatt too, and he wiped at his jeans as Jules grabbed the carton of ice cream. She stuck her hand into it, grabbing a fistful of chocolate fudge, and then leaned over the edge of the bed far enough that Wyatt grabbed her flannel nightshirt in fear of her falling.

She smeared the entire handful into Tino’s inky hair.

“Oh, hell no.” Tino bounced up, carton of ice cream in hand. “You do not mess with my hair and get away with it.”

“Tino, no!” Wyatt shouted, but it was too late.

Jules had thrown her hands over her face protectively, but that didn’t stop Tino from squeezing the entire carton of ice cream onto her head. It ran down Jules’s forehead and coated both of her hands. They were both laughing hysterically.

“You do need to get out of this bed,” Wyatt said in concern. “This shit is driving you crazy, and Tino sure ain’t helping the cause. He started out unhinged.”

Tino ran both his hands through his hair and then reached forward and smeared the chocolate over Jules’s face. She was a mess, and Tino wasn’t much better.

“My sheets.” Jules’s entire body was shaking with mirth. “You’re buying me new ones.”

“What the hell?”

They all turned when Romeo walked into the room, still sweaty and wearing his karate gi, making it obvious he had forgone a shower to get back home to Jules. His jaw was hanging open as he stared at the ruin of his bed and his sticky wife and brother.

“You’re supposed to be watching her.” Romeo glared at Wyatt accusingly. “Now I gotta put her in the shower. The doctor said—”

“Stop.” Jules held up her hand with another giggle. “I wanted a shower anyway. Tino did me a favor.”

Romeo put his face in his hands and mumbled, “Five more days.”

“Your brother has a problem,” Wyatt announced. “And my sister’s got too much energy to be on bed rest for a month. The two of them together is more than anyone can handle.”

“I know.” Romeo looked completely exasperated as he walked over and picked up one of the cartons. “Madonn’, Tino, the carpet. Go get a towel to clean it up.”

Tino left to find something to clean the mess.

“Why aren’t they doing the C-section? These babies have got to be huge.” Wyatt eyed his sister’s stomach pointedly.

“Five more days,” Romeo repeated as he picked up the other carton with a grimace. “And she’s not supposed to be standing for more than a couple minutes. If something happens, we’re so fucking far from the hospital. I should’ve rented a place in Mercy, but she wanted to stay here.”

“Romeo, if something happens, you put in a call to dispatch, and I promise we’ll get you there,” Wyatt told him seriously as a surge of fear hit him in the chest. “You do not hesitate.”

“I won’t, but what the fuck? Juliet—”

“I hate this bed.” Jules covered her face with her hands and let out a sob. “I want to get up. I need a shower. I need to wash my hair. I need to wear something besides flannel.”

Wyatt frowned at his sister, unable to believe she had gone from laughing to crying in that short amount of time. For a moment, he was reminded of Jules as a teenager, when everything was a drama. He thought she had mellowed with age, but this pregnancy was making him second guess that assumption.

“You don’t know what just laying here is doing to me.” She wiped at her sticky cheeks. “I won’t last another five days.”

“Okay, come on, baby.” Romeo crawled into the bed despite the ice cream spilled everywhere. He leaned forward and placed a kiss against her forehead. “You’re gonna do this. You’re strong. I know you’ll make it.”

Jules shook her head in denial. “I don’t think so.”

“We’ll take a quick shower. I’ll wash your hair for you.” Romeo wrapped an arm around her and caressed her arm. “Deal?”

“Deal.” She nodded. “It’ll be a power shower.”

“Will you wait until I get her out?” Romeo lifted his gaze to Wyatt. “You got the sheriff SUV.”

“Yeah, I’ll wait.” Wyatt rolled out of bed and tried not to think about Romeo in the shower with his sister. “Downstairs.”

Romeo gave him a wan smile. “Thanks, Wyatt.”

“I love you, Wy Wy,” Jules whispered, the tears still sounding in her voice.

“Okay, Ju Ju,” Wyatt said softly. “We got your back, darlin’. You’re almost to the finish line.”

Jules nodded as Romeo helped her up.

Wyatt walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. He ran into Tino in the hallway and yanked the kitchen towel out of his hand. Then he went one step further and snapped it harshly at his face.

“Merda!” Tino dodged the attack and shouted, “What the hell was that for?”

“You know she ain’t supposed to be standing long enough to take a shower,” Wyatt growled at him. “You’re lucky I ain’t punching you for putting her health in jeopardy.”

Tino held up his hands in challenge. “Bring it, but be careful. I fight dirty.”

“Yeah, that ain’t a lie.” Wyatt huffed as he walked past him. “We got to work on that with you. I’ve never seen a fighter get more penalties than you do.”

“Hey, man, it’s survival of the fittest in the cage. I gotta do what I gotta do.”

“It ain’t a street fight, Tino. It’s a sport,” Wyatt said defensively. “Winning by following the rules is part of the art.”

“Rules have never been my friend, Conner,” Tino said as he followed Wyatt down the stairs. “I’m not Mr. Sheriff of Hicksville who never broke a fucking rule in his life. Where I come from, you gotta break rules to survive.”

“Tino, I’ve broken rules too. Plenty of ’em, but I’m older than you. I’m telling you at some point you got to learn to follow them, and if I catch you breaking a law in my town, I’m gonna forget we’re family.”

“Yeah, I know, Sheriff,” Tino said sarcastically. “You remind me every time you see me.”

“How’s Nova?” Wyatt asked in concern as he sat down on the leather sofa in Jules’s family room. “Speaking of fellas who break the rules.”

Tino shrugged as he sat down next to him and grabbed the remote off the coffee table. “Why do you always ask that? You know you don’t want the answer.”

Wyatt rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. He hadn’t been getting much sleep since Tabitha started having nightmares. “Believe it or not, I like your brother. I wish I could help him somehow. I know it upsets Jules he’s still caught up with everything in New York. It’s not good for her. It’s not good for any of you. This mafia crap is real bullshit.”

“He’s got his business handled,” Tino assured him with unbending confidence. “Things have settled down.”

“Okay.” Wyatt sighed, even if he was far from convinced. “I hope so.”

“He’s good. Don’t worry about it.”

Wyatt sat there watching television with Tino, silently thinking through over everything. Something occurred to him, and he turned to Tino curiously. “When you say you ended worlds over your redhead—”

“Whoa there, Sheriff,” Tino cut him off. “You start questioning me, and I’m gonna have to call my lawyer.”

“Do you need a lawyer to talk about what happened?”

“If I’m talking to you, I do.”

Wyatt stared at Tino, who had obviously rinsed his hair in the sink. It was pushed away from his forehead, leaving him exposed as he stared at the large, flat screen. That haunted look was back, and Wyatt couldn’t help but ask, “Did you love her?”

“I still love her,” Tino confessed without looking away from the MMA reality show they were watching. “All the other ones are just a way to forget. The booze too. The partying. The fighting. All of it. Just trying to forget, but none of it works. Jules doesn’t get it, but I do. When you love a girl like you love that Tabitha chick, nothing makes it stop.”

“If you care for her that much, you should go after her.” Wyatt took a deep breath as he mourned over his decision to let Tabitha go all those years ago. “Regrets like that are hard to live with. Trust me on this.”

“Nah.” Tino shook his head. “Good girls need guys who follow the rules. That’s not me. I did both of us a favor by cutting that one loose.”

“Tino, you better not be breaking the rules,” Wyatt warned. “I ain’t kidding when I say I will arrest you if I find out you’re bringing that mafia shit into my town.”

“Yeah, but she’s not in your town, is she?” Tino countered. “She’s in my town, and in my town I gotta break the rules. So stop fucking worrying about it. I don’t do shit but hang out with my family and train. Garnet’s made me a fucking saint.”

“Then bring her back here.”

“She’s married already.” Tino turned and scowled at him. “Drop it.”

Wyatt winced. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” Tino agreed. “Sucks big-time.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Tabitha was drowning.

Slowly but surely she was sinking beneath the surface of fear, losing air and steam faster than she could fight against it. For four months, she had lived in a fairy tale. Being with Wyatt had clicked her brain back into a place before her shattered innocence. She hadn’t dreamed in all that time.

Since the hardware store, the nightmares had returned with a vengeance.

Vaughn’s face was planted in her mind, as if thirteen years of therapy hadn’t done a damn thing to help her combat the horrible reality of being raped and beaten by a man who bought Tabitha from her brother for drugs.

“I have to leave,” she whispered miserably as she looked up at Terry from across his kitchen table. “I can’t hide it from him anymore. I keep having nightmares and—”

“Sweetheart.” Terry reached across the table and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. “What if we told him? Have you considered that? That poor man still thinks you left over a fight.”

“God, no.” She shook her head.

“He’s sheriff now. He ain’t twenty-one anymore,” Terry said evenly. “He’s been the big man in charge now for a long time. He ain’t gonna fly off the handle like he did when he was younger. You got to see he’s grown up since you left.”

“I do.” Tabitha nodded, unable to help the flare of pride despite the horrible circumstances. “But God, sometimes I still see the old Wyatt. I don’t think I can risk it.”

“I know I’m not the best person to talk about this with. What the hell do I know about this shit? This is a very serious problem, Tabitha, and you don’t have any of your support network around. We need another opinion.”

“But Hal’s at work,” Tabitha said frantically. “I came here because you two are the only people in this dang town who know what happened. I don’t want to be this person, Terry. I don’t want to be afraid. I don’t want to be a victim, especially to someone like him.”

“Have you called anyone from your old groups?”

“They all think I should tell him.” Tabitha shook her head again. “But they don’t understand everything.”

“What if we called Melody?”

Tabitha let out a frantic laugh. “Clay’s girlfriend? Are you insane?”

“She runs a shelter for women who’ve gone through things like this.” Terry shrugged. “She’s the only one I could think of who might know what to do. She knows counselors who can help. She’s been through things like this herself. You need an outside opinion, and she knows Wyatt. That’s what you wanted, right? Support that really understands.”

Tabitha wiped at her cheeks, because tears had started running down her face without her permission. “No.”

“Why not?” Terry raised his eyebrows. “Ain’t she obligated to keep quiet? Isn’t that part of the code or something?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“I would not suggest it if I didn’t think it was the right thing,” Terry went on as he reached over and patted her hand. “You have been here four times this week. Every time Wyatt leaves the house, you show up at my door, and I don’t know how to fix this for you. You won’t go to the doctor and get him to prescribe you something for your nerves. You’re having nightmares every night. It’s obvious you ain’t sleeping, and you’re stuck in a house where you have to pretend everything’s fine and dandy. This is as unhealthy as it can get.”

“Shit,” she moaned, knowing she was already defeated. She didn’t want Vaughn to win, and she didn’t have the heart to hurt Wyatt again, or herself. She would honestly rather die than just pack up and leave like she’d never had a second chance. “Fine, call her.”

Tabitha needed to talk to someone. She knew keeping it locked up was a horrible decision. This wasn’t the only bout of extended anxiety she had dealt with, and she had learned a long time ago that when she was drowning, the first thing she was supposed to do was reach for a life preserver. It was the reason she came running to Terry, but he was right. He wasn’t the right person to help.

She covered her face with her hands as her arms shook from the force of her fear. Why couldn’t she fight back? She was a strong woman. She had survived so much. She was successful and independent. Why was she letting one chance encounter with Vaughn in the hardware store destroy her?

She had done all the right things after she left Wyatt. She went to support groups. She got therapy. She had done everything humanly possible to move past the trauma. She had even proven that she could still love and let herself be loved by moving in with Wyatt. Now it was all crumpling around her. She had no idea her house of cards was so easy to shake.

She needed someone to talk her off the cliff before she leaped and ruined her only shot at a happy ending. Clay’s girlfriend was Tabitha’s last chance at saving what she had reclaimed with Wyatt. If that wasn’t shit luck, she didn’t know what was.

It took Melody less than twenty minutes to get there after Terry called her. She walked into Terry’s house still wearing her waitress uniform from Hal’s. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a bun, and her black-framed glasses reflected bright green eyes that were swimming with concern as she sat down next to Tabitha on Terry’s couch.

“Hal said you might need a woman to talk to,” Melody started, her voice soft in a way that made her name very apt.

Tabitha leaned back against the couch and looked up at the ceiling. She needed to give Rocky a girlfriend in this book. She blinked at the fan, deciding to name her Harmony, something soft and sweet that matched this woman’s gentle nature that was impossible to ignore.

“Can I use you in a book?” Tabitha finally asked rather than talk about anything more pressing.

“Clay told me you write those Heroes of Sapphire County books.” Melody reached over and squeezed her arm. “I think that’s exciting.”

“Do you?” Tabitha asked in a dull voice.

“Yeah, ain’t they been on the New York Times list forever?”

“I guess,” Tabitha said indifferently.

“That’s a big accomplishment. I can’t even imagine doing something like that. You touched the whole world with your stories.”

The admiration was so pure in Melody’s voice, Tabitha believed it in a way she rarely did. “I’m so happy Clay found someone like you. He deserves that.” She turned to Melody and gave her a smile despite the tears. “He was my friend for a long time. My first friend. Did he tell you that?”

“He said you grew up together.”

“He hates me.” Tabitha let out a sob, finally acknowledging for the first time how much Clay’s cold shoulder had hurt since she returned. “I’ve only seen him that one time we ran into y’all at Hal’s, and another time when I met Wyatt at the Cellar, but he ain’t said more than two words to me. I know he’s angry.”

“Clay’s complicated,” Melody said softly. “He’s very loyal, and you know Wyatt was heartbroken when you left, but I’m certain he doesn’t hate you.”

“I wish I could tell him I didn’t take those drugs on purpose,” Tabitha whispered miserably as she wiped at her cheeks. “I mean, I was the dumb fool who took the drink from my brother, but I would’ve never just given up like he thinks I did. I’m not his mother. I’m not my mother either. I’m stronger than them.”

“Of course you are.” Melody reached down and squeezed her hand. “Why did you leave, Tabitha?”

“Um.” She took a shuddering breath as she second-guessed telling her, but in the end she needed to talk to someone who could possibly help. “Something happened. Something terrible. I couldn’t tell Wyatt. I couldn’t tell Clay either. I told Terry and Hal ’cause I needed someone to pick me up from the hospital and help me gather my things from my house. There was no way I could go back there. I can barely walk into it now, and it happened thirteen years ago.”

“What happened in the house?”

Tabitha turned to Melody, looking at her with tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t answer her, she just hope she understood.

“Oh, honey.” Melody reached out and hugged her. When she spoke again, her voice was choked with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too,” Tabitha whispered, still shaking with the strength it was taking to keep herself from completely falling apart. “I didn’t want to leave him. I loved him so much. I still do. I never wanted to hurt him. Never.”

“And Wyatt doesn’t know?”

“No.” Tabitha hugged Melody back, which was odd considering she barely knew this woman. “But I ran into the guy who did it at the hardware store, and it’s all just falling apart. I don’t know how to hide it from Wyatt anymore. Why can’t I fight this?”

“This is so normal,” Melody assured her as she pulled back and looked at Tabitha. Tears shone in her eyes, and she took off her glasses to brush them away. “When Clay and I had to go to the trial for my ex-husband a few months ago, I was a mess the entire time. Even though I had Clay with me, and Justin was sitting there in handcuffs, I was still a nervous wreck. I can’t even imagine dealing with that without Clay knowing what happened. You have to tell Wyatt. You have to give him a chance to help you. It’s not fair to him if he doesn’t know what he’s dealing with.”

“Did Clay ever tell you about some of the things that happened when we were younger?” Tabitha asked curiously. “Did he ever mention how he and Wyatt became friends?”

“He said they got into a fight.”

“Did he say why?”

Melody shrugged and gave her an embarrassed smiled. “He said Wyatt said something dumb.”

“He did.” Tabitha sighed. “He started that fight ’cause he saw me hugging Clay, and I swear to God, Melody, Clay and me weren’t ever anything more than friends.”

“You’re afraid he’ll do something dumb if he finds out?” Melody asked in concern.

Tabitha nodded and wiped at her cheeks. “Yes, I am.”

“He’s sheriff now. He would never break the law.”

“I wish we could tell Clay,” Tabitha whispered. “Because I think he would disagree with you. There’s a side of Wyatt that’s darker than people realize. He can cross the line with the right motivation. I’ve seen him do it.”

“Well, if you can’t talk to him, you can surely talk to me.” Melody was surprisingly understanding. “Hal called someone in to cover my shift. Clay ain’t expecting me home until nine. If Terry don’t mind, we can just sit here and talk until you’re feeling up to going back to Wyatt.”

“I can make dinner,” Terry offered from his spot leaning against the archway into the kitchen. “If y’all want?”

“Sounds nice.” Melody nodded and then reached over and squeezed Tabitha’s hand again. “We’ll figure out a plan. You ain’t alone. I promise.”

Tabitha nodded as she whispered, “Thank you.”

* * *

Melody pulled the keys out of the ignition of her new SUV. Clay had bought it for her birthday. It cost way too much money, but she would never hurt his feelings by complaining, and it was a fine vehicle. Certainly much nicer than the truck they’d traded in that was probably buried in a junkyard somewhere.

They’d put up Christmas lights last week, and Melody smiled as she looked at them twinkling in the night. Something about holidays left her cheery. Things were always a little happier once the air got crisp and the decorations went up. She’d met Clay last Thanksgiving, which just solidified her belief that November was her friend.

Which was why she hated being as brokenhearted as she was.

She walked up to the driveway, feeling her heart hurt for both Wyatt and Tabitha. She was supposed to leave other people’s problems behind at the end of the day, but she just couldn’t find a way to recover from the wrongness of what happened to them. It hit way too close to home, and it was made so much worse because no one save a handful of people know why Tabitha left. To think of everyone villainizing her was so incredibly unfair Melody could hardly breathe past the injustice of it.

She took a deep breath before she walked into the house and tried to remind herself it wasn’t Clay’s fault. He didn’t know what happened. If he did, his feelings about Tabitha would be much different. Melody was certain of it.

“Hey.” Clay met her at the door and leaned down to give her a kiss. “How was work?”

“I left early.” Melody put her keys on the table by the door. “I had a crisis call. Hal let me off.”

“That’s nice of him.” Clay frowned. “What was the crisis?”

“It was, uh”—Melody pulled off her coat and walked to the bedroom—“it was a rape.”

“Hell.” Clay sounded concerned. “Did y’all call Wyatt?”

“No, it happened a long time ago. She was just dealing with some post-traumatic stress. Sorta like me at Justin’s trial.”

“Is she okay now?”

“I think so.” Melody tossed her jacket on the made bed. “She went home to her husband. She just needed help moving past the nerves. He doesn’t know.” She choked up at the last part and turned away from Clay to hide the tears that were threatening. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“I’ll get in with ya.”

Melody shook her head. “No, I need to be alone for a few minutes.”

“Mel”—Clay grabbed her arm and pulled her to him—“are you okay?”

“It was just a really sad story.” Melody hugged Clay despite her turbulent emotions about what he’d done. “It’s so unfair.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be going on these calls if they’re gonna upset you like this.” Clay rubbed her back. “You got your own set of issues to deal.”

“I’m fine.” She patted his bare chest and then pulled away. “I’m gonna take a shower and pull myself together. Didja eat?”

“I threw some leftovers in the microwave. Did you?”

“Yeah.” Melody started working on the buttons to her top as she walked to the bathroom. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get in?”

Melody shook her head. “Let me gather my thoughts.”

Clay studied her with a scowl. It wasn’t like her to push him away like that, but she needed a little more time. A part of her was angry at Clay for hurting Tabitha worse by ignoring her since she had gotten back. Before tonight, Melody hadn’t pushed the issue with him, because like everyone else, she’d assumed Tabitha was just a rich, successful author who had left Wyatt in the dust.

Now it was something much different. Melody hadn’t had a chance to see what sort of woman Tabitha was, but Clay knew her. He should’ve known she wouldn’t just leave Wyatt without a really good reason.

Damn the men’s club.

And double damn Jules for being a part of it and fueling the fire of Clay’s bitterness even more. Melody considered Jules one of her closest friends, but she was one of those rare women who had somehow managed to become a part of the men’s club too.

But Melody most certainly wasn’t.

She closed the bathroom door and locked it for good measure.

“Okay, now I know something’s wrong,” Clay called from the other side.

“I’m taking a shower by myself,” Melody snapped when she finally acknowledged to herself how unfair his actions were to Tabitha.

“Mel—”

“Go do man things.” Melody turned away from the door and folded her arms over her chest as she reeled over the feelings washing over. “Go beat each other up and do the rest of us a favor.”

For the first time since she met him almost a year ago…Melody was mad at Clay.

* * *

She was still mad at him two hours later when the two of them were lying in bed, because they only had one bedroom, and Clay was too damned big for the couch. Melody surely wasn’t going to sleep there. So she just lay on her side with her back to him.

“It ain’t fair for you to be mad at me and not even tell me what it is.”

“Not, it ain’t fair, is it?” Melody countered. “Being mad at someone for something they did out of loyalty and nobility. That’s just plain wrong.”

“Mel.” Clay let out a pained laugh. “I honestly have no idea what you are talking ’bout. Can you at least give me a hint? Whatever it is, I promise I’ll apologize.”

“You’d be apologizing to the wrong woman,” Melody said bitterly.

Clay rolled over to drape a muscular arm over her. “Please tell me what I did.”

Melody tried to shove him off, but Clay was two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle, and he decided he wasn’t moving. He held her tighter instead. Melody finally had to give in and stay where she was, smothered and angry.

“I love you,” he whispered in to her ear. “And I know I ain’t perfect. Whatever I did, tell me so I can make it better. I hate fighting with you.”

Melody lay there, silently debating with herself, before she finally asked, “Why don’t you talk to Tabitha?”

“What?” Clay rasped, making it obvious that was the last thing he expected.

“I just wanna know,” she went on. “Gimme a good reason, because from where I’m standing, that was mean. Both you and Jules have been giving Wyatt nothing but grief for months now for loving that woman. Tell me why.”

“I ain’t been giving him grief. I just sorta been trying to pretend it ain’t happening.”

Melody threw her elbow back into his chest and then turned around in his arms to glare at him. “Why?”

“’Cause she took off and left my best friend four days after they got married, and the way she did it wasn’t right. Tabitha was better than that. She didn’t need to turn to drugs,” Clay growled in a furious voice, making it obvious this was something that had been eating at him for years. “She went and turned out like the rest of ’em. Like my mother.”

“Are you crazy?” Melody let out a bitter laugh. “She’s written books that make millions of children happy. How do you reckon that makes her anything at all like your mother?”

“One fight with Wyatt, and she’s in the hospital with an overdose. He thinks it was something over the counter. That was fucking bullshit. I know her family. It was drugs,” Clay countered. “Wyatt worshipped her. He still does, and what did she do to repay him—”

Melody hit his shoulder hard enough to make Clay’s eyes grow wide in surprise, but she didn’t care as she got out of bed. She grabbed her pillow, deciding she could deal with the couch.

“This is all over Tabitha?” Clay barked at her. “What the hell? Why do you care? You don’t even know her.”

“You should have known she wouldn’t leave him without a good reason.” Melody lost the battle with tears as they welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “You were her friend. Her first friend.”

Clay paled. “Who told you that?”

“You did!”

“No, I didn’t.” Clay shook his head. “Who was the crisis call for?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Melody jerked the blanket off the bed, and Clay didn’t stop her. He was just sitting in there staring at her, his eyes wide in horror. She left him like that and stomped out of the bedroom, with the blanket dragging behind her.

She was busy situating herself on the couch and wiping at her cheeks when Clay came into the living room in nothing but his boxer shorts, making him look dark and intimidating with those powerful arms folded over his chest.

“Who was the call for, Melody?” He sounded dangerous in a way she had never heard before.

Melody rolled over, showing Clay her back rather than answer.

“You said it was a rape call.” Clay’s voice cracked, the emotion breaking through his steely control. “Was Tabitha raped? Did something besides that fight with Wyatt make her leave?”

Melody looked over her shoulder, seeing that Clay’s dark eyes were glassy. She knew she wasn’t supposed to say anything, but she just couldn’t let the injustice go this time. “You shouldn’t be mad at her.”

Clay bowed his head. For one long moment Melody watched him stand there shaking as if everything he had ever believed about life had been ripped apart and thrown at his feet.

Then he lifted his head, his eyes narrowed, making tears roll down his face. “Did she say who it was?”

Melody shook her head. “I really can’t tell you that.”

“Was it Vaughn Davis?” Clay whispered.

Melody tried to make her features impassive, but she was genuinely surprised the first name Clay pulled out of the hat was the right one. It must have shown on her face, because he turned around with a growl and hit the wall, tearing through plaster easily and leaving a large hole. Melody gaped, because she couldn’t remember the last time Clay lost his temper.

“You can’t tell her I told you,” Melody whispered fearfully. “It was supposed to be a secret. I should have never—”

“I won’t tell her.” Clay still stood facing the wall, his shoulders heaving as if he was battling a terrible war with himself. “I couldn’t betray you like that. Even for something like this.”

“Do you promise?”

Clay nodded. “Yeah, I promise.”

“Why didn’t she come to you instead of Terry?” Melody asked as more tears rolled down her face. “Maybe you would’ve talked her into staying here. Y’all could’ve found a way to tell Wyatt together and—”

“She probably knew I’d hunt Vaughn down and bury him before Wyatt got a chance.”

“But you wouldn’t—”

Clay turned around, giving her a look that forced the denial to die in the back of her throat. He was serious.

“She was like a sister to me, Mel,” Clay whispered, the words still heavy with emotion. “She was the only one who understood my life growing up. She wasn’t just my first friend when I was a kid. She was my only friend. When she left, it killed me too. I know I never told you any of that, because talking ’bout it hurts too damn much.”

“This is the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever heard in my whole dang life, and I’ve heard a lot of terrible things.” Melody wiped at her eyes when she realized she was crying. “I’m so sorry, Clay. I’m sorry for all of you. I want to fix it, but I dunno how. I told her to tell Wyatt. Maybe—”

Clay made a choking sound of horror. “She can’t tell Wyatt!”

“She has to!” Melody countered. “It’s the only way. Otherwise he will never know why she left him, and Jules will go on hating her and—”

“Wyatt will come unglued if he finds this out.” Clay’s voice was suddenly wild and frantic. “He will kill Vaughn Davis, and that ain’t even a lie. He will kill that motherfucker dead, and then he’ll do something stupid like turn himself in after the deed is done. You think shit is bad now, wait and see what happens if Wyatt finds out. Tabitha was right to leave, and I owe her a huge apology for being mad at her for it.”

“This is unfair to her!” Melody shouted. “It’s horribly unfair, and y’all need to get over your stupid man crap and recognize that! She’s done sacrificing herself for everyone, and if you can’t pull yourself together enough to make Wyatt understand that, then I will!”

“You cannot tell Wyatt,” Clay repeated as if he hadn’t heard a word she said. “No one can.”

“And what’s gonna happen to Tabitha?” Melody raised her eyebrows pointedly. “Y’all are just gonna go on hating her and thinking—”

“I’m gonna fix things with Tabitha,” Clay said solemnly. “I ain’t really sure how, but I’m gonna try. You’re yelling at me like you’re the only one in her corner, but you ain’t. I don’t want her to hurt any more than you do.”

Melody paused, because that made her feel moderately better. She of all people knew Clay was a good man to have in her corner. She wiped at her eyes again and asked, “H-how are you gonna make things better?”

“I have no idea.” Clay walked over to her and fell down to his knees on the couch. He hugged Melody before he leaned down and buried his face in her long hair. “I promise, Mel. I’ll make sure she knows I’m not mad at her.”

“She’ll know I told you.”

“Then, oh well.” Clay sighed. “But you’re right. It’s not fair to her. I can hardly breathe with how unfair it is, and I hate that I was part of it. We’ll fix it.”

Melody wrapped her arms him and whispered, “Okay.”

Chapter Thirty

The talk with Melody helped.

Tabitha was feeling almost human again instead of a shaky, nervous wreck who saw Vaughn’s face every time she closed her eyes. She made Wyatt dinner despite not being hungry herself because she enjoyed the task. It always brought her comfort. It reminded her of those lost days of her youth when having food in the fridge meant everything was going to be okay—until it wasn’t.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Wyatt said when he walked into the kitchen. He leaned over, giving her a kiss, and looked at the stove, where she had beef stroganoff in one pot, pasta in the other, and broccoli in the third. “You feeding an army?”

Tabitha grinned. “Just about. You eat more than any fella I ever met.”

“Yeah, you should see Clay put away food sometime.” Wyatt laughed. “Or Jules’s brother-in-law. Jesus, that boy is always eating.”

Tabitha turned back to the stove and tried to keep her voice even as she asked, “How’s Jules?”

“Bat shit over being stuck on bed rest.”

Tabitha giggled. “I reckon that’d make anyone stir crazy. How much longer?”

“Five days.” Wyatt wrapped his arms around her. “Can’t come fast enough far as I’m concerned.”

“Then you’ll be an uncle.”

“Yup.” A smile sounded in Wyatt’s voice. “You gonna come to the hospital with us?”

“Nah.” Tabitha shook her head. “I don’t wanna ruin y’all’s special day.”

“You never ruin my day,” Wyatt argued, sounding earnest. “You make my days better. I love you, Tabby. I want you there with me.”

“We’ll see what happens.” Tabitha gestured to the cabinet. “Get the plates.”

He got the plates, and Tabitha took time to make sure the food was presented nicely, which made Wyatt laugh. She even bought parsley for garnish.

“You ain’t eating that much?” Wyatt frowned at her across the table.

“I had dinner at Terry’s.” Tabitha lifted her head and smiled. “I just didn’t think you ought to be eating alone.”

“Yeah, eating alone is never fun,” Wyatt agreed.

Dinner was nice. Tabitha really was feeling much better, and she made a mental note to buy Melody a thank-you gift. It was sweet of her to drop everything and come over to talk.

Even if Clay was mad at her, Tabitha was still so incredibly pleased he’d found such a nice woman to be with. She had always wanted that for him. Something perfect and magical like Tabitha and Wyatt had once had.

They still had it—if she could just keep herself together.

When Tabitha got into the shower, Wyatt came in after a few minutes. Already naked, he pulled back the curtain and looked at her. “Mind if I join you?”

“Don’t mind at all.” Tabitha stepped out of the spray to make room.

She watched him tilt his head back, wetting his hair. It was a very nice sight as she admired his body and the way the water ran over his chest and down the deep lines of his abdominal muscles.

“What’re you looking at?” Wyatt raised his eyebrows and pushed his hair away from his forehead.

Tabitha grinned. “I’m looking at a very fine piece of sheriff.”

Wyatt laughed and reached out to her. He pulled her close, and Tabitha gladly melded into his strong, hard body and tilted her head up. Wyatt caught the invitation and leaned down to kiss her. She parted her lips to him, willing away the last of her stress. This was Wyatt. She was safe. Like food in the fridge, being near Wyatt made her feel like everything would be okay—until it wasn’t.

When he turned her around and pressed her against the shower wall, Tabitha wanted it to be okay—desperately—but she stiffened instead.

“I don’t want to do it like this,” she whispered as she fisted her hands to hide the shake in them. She turned around in his arms and studied his face. “I need to look at you when we do it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. However you like it, I do too.” Wyatt frowned at her concern. “We don’t have to do it at all. If you’re still feeling ill, we can—”

“No, I want to,” she whispered, because they hadn’t done it since she’d seen Vaughn, and she didn’t want that asshole to take this from her too. She couldn’t feign headaches forever. “I just need to look at you. When I look at you, it’s okay.”

“Is there a reason it wouldn’t be okay?” Wyatt pulled her closer again. “You’ve been jumpy all week. Is there something you need to talk to me ’bout?”

“No,” she said a little too quickly. “I just like looking at you.”

“Come on, Tab.” Wyatt leaned down and placed a kiss against her forehead. “I think we ought to skip it tonight. I can’t do it when I know you’re not into it.”

“But I know it’s not fair to you, and—”

“Darlin’,” Wyatt started with a mirthless laugh. “I was alone for thirteen years. If I survived that long, a few days surely ain’t gonna hurt me. Let’s get clean and go to sleep. Tomorrow’s a new day, right?”

Tabitha nodded, still feeling distant. “Right.”

“Jules and Tino got into an ice-cream fight. I think I’m still sticky from it, and I washed up twice at her place.” Wyatt turned around and grabbed the soap. “I swear that bed rest has pushed her round the bend. Can you imagine what having twins is gonna do to her? She thinks she’s stressed out now. Jesus, she must’ve forgotten what pains in the ass we were as kids, and I can only imagine what we were like as toddlers.”

Tabitha giggled at the thought of Wyatt and Jules as toddlers. “Your poor father.”

“That ain’t a lie.” Wyatt laughed with her.

By the time they got out of the shower, Tabitha was feeling so much lighter. Wyatt had that way about him. It was one of the things she’d missed most profoundly during their long separation. That easy charm that smoothed over even the most agonizing hurts.

Needing it desperately, just to prove to herself that Vaughn hadn’t taken it from her by showing up in that hardware store, Tabitha crawled over Wyatt. He was lying over the sheets, a towel still wrapped around his waist, and anyone with eyes would want to take advantage of what a beautiful image he presented.

“Let’s do it like this.” Tabitha pulled off her towel and tossed it aside. “Does that work?”

Wyatt shifted under her and laced his hands behind his head as his hot gaze ran over her naked body. “Works for me. I like looking at you too.”

Tabitha smiled and leaned down to kiss him. Wyatt parted for her, letting Tabitha take the lead, which was exactly what she needed. He was almost too accommodating, which scared her a little when she considered him using those keen sheriff senses to figure out what her real issue with sex was.

But she pushed it to the back of her mind.

Things had been beautiful for four months. She had already proven to herself she could still love like any other woman when she had feared for years that had been taken from her forever.

Kissing like they were, it didn’t take Wyatt long to get hard. He’d always been very responsive, and Tabitha seized the moment rather than drag it out. She shifted over him and reached down to put him in her because Wyatt still had his hands laced behind his head.

When she slid down on him, Wyatt closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, you feel good, Tabby.”

“You do too,” she whispered.

And he did. He felt amazing in her, stretching her with his thick cock that made pleasure dance over her skin with every subtle movement. She fell forward and grabbed the headboard, using it as leverage to arch into him, forcing him deeper.

Wyatt finally reached out for her, running his hands up her rib cage. “Is this okay?”

“Mmm,” she agreed as she started moving over him, slowly, as she allowed herself to savor being with him.

Wyatt started moving with her, matching her easy pace until they were both breathless and sweaty. He didn’t force her to go faster. He didn’t roll them over and start fucking her hard the way he was apt to do before the hardware store. Wyatt just let Tabitha take from him, and it was exactly what she needed.

He pulled her down, forcing her to fall over him, and then he licked and kissed at Tabitha’s neck. His breath was warm against her ear as he whispered, “Love you.”

“I love you too.” She tilted her head, giving him better access. “So much.”

“I won’t let you leave again.” He wrapped his big arms around her, forcing their bodies tightly together. “You hear me, pretty girl?”

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I hear you.”

Wyatt moaned. He tossed his head back against the pillow as he thrust his hips up, making Tabitha moan with him. The buildup was slow, but the climax was powerful. Tabitha stiffened first, and she clung to Wyatt when the pleasure slammed into her. It shook her entire body, spreading out into her limbs in warm waves that made sharp gasps of ecstasy burst out of her.

She wasn’t surprised when Wyatt came with her. It had been almost a week since they’d done this. She liked the sounds he made, low grunts of masculine pleasure that washed over her soul like a balm. Then they lay there in companionable silence as Wyatt caressed her bare back, and she fought to catch her breath with her face buried in the curve of his neck.

When they did pull apart and crawl under the sheets, Wyatt didn’t want to let her go. Instead he wrapped his arms around her, spooning her from behind, and clung to her tighter than usual. She was safe. She kept reminding herself of it as she closed her eyes and finally gave in to the exhaustion hoping that Wyatt would be able to chase away the demons in her dreams too.

* * *

Wyatt didn’t go to sleep.

He just lay there, his body tense, waiting.

Every other night this week, he’d been dead asleep by the time Tabitha jerked awake next to him, sweaty and shaking. He knew he heard things before then, fragments of sentences that filtered in past his hazy consciousness, but he was always too dazed to decipher them. By then, Tabitha would recover and tell him it was just a bad dream. She’d brush off his concern and then fall back against the pillow, snuggling up against him as if nothing was wrong, but he knew she didn’t go back to sleep.

He didn’t either.

The two of them would just lie there with the demons choking the air out of the room, pretending to be asleep for each other, when it was clear they were both haunted.

He was done with the demons.

Tonight just proved he needed to yank open all the closet doors and then deal with the consequences, because he couldn’t take this shit anymore. As he lay there in the darkness, Wyatt finally forced himself to acknowledge what he’d known since the day he’d opened that letter.

Something had happened to Tabitha.

A part of him had always known. At twenty-one he hadn’t been able to face it. But he wasn’t twenty-one anymore, and he sure as shit wasn’t going to let these demons, whatever they were, eat Tabitha alive like they’d been doing.

He knew his girl. She was hurting, and he’d rather cut out his own heart than let her hurt just to protect him from whatever it was she thought he couldn’t take.

He was waiting for it, but he still jerked in shock when Tabitha screamed. He held her tighter, and she fought his embrace rather than wake up.

“Wyatt!”

That one cry was so raw and terrified it caused an icy wave of horror to hit him square in the chest. He couldn’t resist the call for help, even if it was just a dream and likely his only way to find out what was causing this.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Wyatt shook her as his heartbeat throbbed in his ears. “I’m here!”

“No, you’re not! Make him stop!”

“Oh Jesus.” Wyatt shook her hard, realizing he couldn’t take this. “Wake up, Tab. It’s a dream.”

Tabitha jerked out of his arms with core strength driven by pure adrenaline he knew well. Her breathing was hard and labored, and she looked around the room in a wild daze, as if still disorientated.

“It was a dream,” he told her again as he sat up next to her and wrapped an arm around her bare shoulders. “Just a dream.”

“It was?” She turned to him, her brown eyes wide in the night.

“I’m here, darlin’.” He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “You don’t got a thing to be scared of.”

She nodded frantically, her breathing still harsh. “You didn’t leave me?”

“No.” The lie was choked with emotion, and he hoped to God she was still too disoriented to notice the shake in his arm. “I would never leave you.”

“But you did.” Tabitha pulled away from him and fell back against the bed. She pulled the covers over her and then whispered, “We let the villains win. They beat both of us. There are no happy endings.”

Wyatt stared down at her, realizing she hadn’t fully woken up. He could hear the haze of dreaming in her voice. Her wild imagination was vibrant in the night, letting him see the inner workings of a mind that was genius enough to turn a truly terrible childhood into stories that made children believe in the impossible.

He knew he shouldn’t do it.

It was a horrible violation of her privacy, but Wyatt had spent too much of his life digging into things people wanted kept secret to stop himself from lying down next to her and then wrapping her up in his arms. “Who are the villains? The real villains.”

“Brett’s a villain. He sold me. That was real,” she whispered.

“Sold you to who?”

“Shh.” She shifted as if fighting to fall deeper back to sleep. “Protect Wyatt.”

Wyatt’s face scrunched up as that soft, broken plea ripped at his soul in a way that stole his breath and made his heart stutter as if it was trying to give out and stop beating under the weight of agony.

“I love you, Tabby,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss against her temple. “Do you know that?”

“I know.” She sounded unbendingly confident of that if nothing else.

He held her, his arms shaking, his chest hurting as tears he couldn’t fight rolled down his cheeks. He tried to stop the hot, irrational rush of fury that throbbed in his ears for Tabitha’s sake. He honestly did. He was older, he was wiser, but he had also hurt for thirteen long years over whatever happened to Tabitha.

He almost won too.

If it had just been his suffering, he might have dropped it and let the villains win, but then he considered what Tabitha had gone through. He thought of her at twenty-one, alone, hurt, and scared in New York, and all because she had a tragic case of codependency that forced her to take care of everyone else but herself.

He already knew who it was. She’d been fine until that day in the hardware store.

“Was it Vaughn?” he whispered into the darkness.

“You can’t tell Wyatt ’bout Vaughn.” She sounded terrified, as if saying Vaughn’s name made her ill.

“Tabby, listen to me.” Wyatt rolled her onto her back and grabbed her face, making Tabitha blink up at him. He cupped her cheek and stared into her eyes, hoping she remembered this. “The villains aren’t supposed to win. I would never let them win. Do you hear me, pretty girl? They don’t get that. I’ll fucking die before I let that happen.”

“What?” She was still blinking at him in confusion, but he could see clarity filtering into her eyes.

“I just want you to know I would do anything for you.” He stroked her face and ran a thumb over her lips. “Anything.”

“That’s sweet. I’d do anything for you too.” Her eyes closed, and she turned in his arms again, making it obvious the absolute exhaustion after a full week of stress had taken its toll. “Love you.”

Wyatt held Tabitha until her breathing fell into the slow, steady rhythm of deep sleep once more. He kissed her forehead and slipped his arm out from under her as carefully as possible. Then he rolled out of bed.

Then he turned and walked to his closet. He considered putting on his uniform and relieving Deputy Cowden of duty for the night. Then he thought better of it and put on jeans instead. He didn’t feel like being a cop. he decided right then he was going to be a vigilante instead.

The villains didn’t get to win. They had thirteen years longer than they were supposed to have, but Wyatt had watched enough movies and read enough books to know they always lost in the end.

Tonight was the end.

Part Eight

The End

Oh, there’s nothing more dangerous in life at getting hurt at than love itself. People are hurt in love affairs and never recover,

more than a boxing match.

—George Foreman

Chapter Thirty-One

Tabitha rolled over, reaching out for Wyatt, but found herself grasping at a cold pillow instead. She frowned in confusion as she fought to wake up more fully. She expected sunlight, so it confused her when it was still dark.

It was Wednesday, wasn’t it?

Wyatt was off Tuesdays and Wednesdays. She looked at the clock, expecting it to be that new-morning hour when the sun was hiding right behind the horizon. Sometimes Wyatt left before light to go workout at the Cellar with Clay.

2:19

Wyatt got up early, but not that early.

She glanced at the bathroom, expecting to see the shine of light under the door, but it was dark too. She got out of bed, wondering if he’d gotten up and got a late-night snack. She pulled one of Wyatt’s T-shirts from his drawer and tugged it on as she walked out of the bedroom.

She padded barefoot downstairs and called out, “Wyatt?”

She stopped on the bottom step, waiting for him to answer, but eerie silence greeted her instead.

“Wyatt!” she shouted, this time louder, the sound of it echoing off the old walls of the house.

She ran to the front door and unlocked it. Then she jerked it open and looked into the night for his sheriff SUV, but her car was lonely in the driveway. It had started snowing sometimes during the night, and she blinked past the first featherlight snow of the season, seeing the flakes dance in the moonlight.

What if something happened to Jules?

The thought entered into her mind, but then just as quickly she remembered his insistence over dinner that he wanted her at the hospital with him. He would have woken her if Jules had gone into labor.

As she stood there in the cold, something else struck her—Wyatt’s voice filtering into her dreams in a way it hadn’t before tonight. She remembered talking to him, but for the life of her, she couldn’t recall what was said.

She slammed the door and ran back up the stairs as her heart started thumping hard in fear. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and dialed his number. Her breathing started to fall shallow when it rang and rang, and he didn’t answer.

She called him four times.

She texted him twice.

He always answered when she called. Now suddenly the lifeline had gone dead as if she’d never gotten a second chance at it to begin with.

Her first instinct was to drive out into the night and search for him, but she had no idea where to find him. Then just as the panic was threatening to choke her, she thought of someone who knew Wyatt better than Wyatt knew himself.

* * *

The dull buzz of plastic vibrating against wood had Clay rolling over blindly. He smacked at his nightstand until he found his phone. He lifted it up, squinting at the screen, but nothing but the time glared back at him.

2:31

He frowned at the early hour and then looked past Melody, seeing that it was her phone still buzzing.

“Mel.” He shook her. “Your phone.”

“Huh?” Melody moaned and pulled the covers tighter over her.

“Your dang phone. It’s ringing. Get it. What if it’s Jules? Oh, hell.” Clay leaned over her and used his long reach to swipe at her phone. He answered it, expecting it to be Jules announcing she was in labor. “What happened?”

“C-Clay?”

He sat up in bed, knowing who it was despite not having a real conversation with her in over thirteen years. “Tab?”

“I’m sorry. Melody gave me her number and—”

“No, no, it’s okay.” He took a deep breath and looked at his own phone, staring at the early hour once more as his adrenaline spiked in apprehension. “What’s wrong?”

“Um.” Tabitha’s voice shook in a way that terrified him. “Wyatt’s gone. I was hoping you could help me find him.”

“He’s gone?” Clay repeated as he looked at Melody, who sat up next to him, making it obvious the phone call had jerked her out of sleep. “Where’d he go?”

“I dunno.” Tabitha sounded frantic. “I think he might have gone off to do something dumb.”

“Did you tell him?” Clay asked, knowing he was betraying Melody by doing so, but something told Clay the situation was a little too serious to pretend he wasn’t fully aware of what was going on. “Does he know it was Vaughn?”

“Oh God.” Tabitha sucked in a sharp breath of horror. “She told you.”

“Give me the phone, Clay!” Melody shouted next to him.

“No, I can do this.” Clay leaped out of bed to avoid Melody’s swipe for her phone. He held it closer to his ear and whispered, “Listen to me, Tab. I ain’t blaming you for leaving. I ain’t mad at you. I should’ve never been mad at you. I am sorry.” His voice cracked with emotion he couldn’t hide. He didn’t want to hide it. “Melody’s right. I am an asshole. I should’ve known—”

“No, I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want anyone to know. I wanted you to be here for Wyatt.”

“You’re important too,” he said softly. “You don’t have to fight alone anymore. I’m in your corner.”

“You are?”

The sheer disbelief in her voice tore at Clay, but he pushed the pain back to deal with the problem at hand. “What happened tonight?”

“I think I was talking in my sleep.” Tabitha took another shuddering breath. “God, Clay, I think he knows. I sorta remember him asking me questions.”

“I’ll find him.” Clay didn’t put it past Wyatt to use the advantage of Tabitha talking in her sleep to get answers to questions that had been plaguing him for years. “I promise.”

“You’ll stop him?”

“I have to find him first. I’m handing the phone over to Melody. She’s gonna drive out to you,” Clay said as he walked over to his drawer and pulled out a pair of jeans.

“No, she’s been so nice. I don’t wanna put her out and—”

“Listen to me,” he growled in a low voice. “This shit ends now, Tabitha. You have been sacrificing yourself for too long because your cunt of a mother fucked you up. We don’t have time to teach you how to accept help, so you’re just gonna have to trust me when I say we’re in your corner if you want us there or not. Watching you do this to yourself hurts us too. Do you want to hurt us?”

“No!” she said quickly. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“Then you go downstairs and wait for Melody to get there.”

Clay handed the phone to Melody, who took it with a glare. She put her hand over the receiver and whispered, “That wasn’t very tactful.”

“That’s okay.” Clay tugged on his jeans. “Tabitha was my first friend, remember? She knows I ain’t tactful.”

He grabbed the shirt he’d discarded earlier and tugged it on as he walked out the bedroom, determined to save Wyatt from himself.

* * *

It wasn’t the first time Wyatt used this spot. On slow nights, he’d pull off to the side of the road across the street from Jake’s Bar. The trees hid his SUV that everyone in town who had even a remote inkling toward breaking the law could usually spot from a mile way.

Catching drunk drivers had been one of Wyatt’s personal goals in life ever since he’d been forced to walk up to Delores Johnson’s house at four in the morning and tell her he’d found her son’s mangled body inside the truck he’d gotten for graduation the day before.

He heard her screams in his mind every time he slapped a pair of cuffs onto some drunk fool who decided to risk a drive home, and the town had gotten the message loud and clear. He hadn’t arrested someone for drunk driving in three months.

No one was safe from the campaign. Hell, he’d even arrested Terry for it last year.

He’d been the first one Wyatt let off before booking him, but now he was second-guessing that decision. He should have driven over to his house and punched the smaller man for letting Tabitha leave knowing what happened to her.

Wyatt knew she’d told him.

Tabitha told Terry everything.

He’d turned off his police radio and phone and just sat there in the darkness—waiting—with his gaze on Vaughn Davis’s car. The anger hadn’t subsided. It’d grown into something raging and untamable instead. The longer he sat there, the more he thought about his and Tabitha’s lives and what this asshole had stolen from them. He thought of his girl alone in New York. He thought of her fear and terror over suffering through what she had after Wyatt had abandoned her that night.

The self-loathing was the worst, hazing his vision and making his chest tight.

He’d probably end up having a heart attack one of these days from the burden of it. He wouldn’t be the first sheriff to drop from one. It had turned into a family tradition. He ate better than his father and grandfather had. He took the fucking blood pressure pills the doctor forced on him. He exercised and did all the things a man was supposed to do to stay healthy. He shouldn’t need them, but he did because no amount of exercise and protein bars could eliminate the stress of knowing his wife had been out there somewhere—alone—while he was stuck in Garnet with a breakup letter.

She hadn’t wanted to be found. That had been very obvious, and the hurt of knowing she’d rather be alone stopped him in his tracks every single time.

He’d been taking those damn pills since he was twenty-nine, keeping them hidden in his bottom drawer because Jules would have come unhinged if she knew he was suffering from the same issues their father had. He kept aspirin everywhere—in his glove compartment, in all the drawers of his house—because he’d been in the sheriff’s office the day his father dropped. He’d done chest compressions on him until the ambulance arrived, but it hadn’t done a damn bit of good.

He watched his father die. Then he had to call his sister and tell her he wasn’t able to save him. Until right now, he thought Jules’s screams that day had been the worst thing he’d ever hear in his life. Then Tabitha confessed in her sleep that her brother had sold her to Vaughn Davis.

And it was Wyatt who had driven away that night, abandoning her four days after they had gotten married.

It all felt like too much to bear. He had big shoulders, but it was starting to be more than even he could take. If he was going to die from a heart attack like his father had, he was gonna make sure he took Vaughn Davis with him before he went.

He was sitting there, with that light-headed, adrenaline-pumped feeling throbbing at his temples that told him Doc Philips would’ve upped his prescription if he’d taken a reading when a knock at his window made him jump.

For a moment he thought his heart had stopped beating, because he couldn’t remember the last time someone sneaked up on him like that. Then he found himself looking into the night at Clay’s scowling face.

Unbelievable.

Wyatt pushed the button to roll down his window, because he knew Clay would stand there forever. The asshole didn’t even have a jacket on. “What?” he snapped, knowing Clay could hear every ounce of rage in that one question.

“Unlock the door,” Clay said in a low, furious voice.

Wyatt pushed the button to his window instead, arching an eyebrow at Clay when it started going up. Clay reached in before Wyatt could block him out. His large hand wrapped around Wyatt’s throat, squeezing tight enough to block his air supply.

“Open the fucking door!”

Wyatt pushed at the button again, trapping Clay’s arm; then he reached up, squeezing at the pressure point between Clay’s thumb and forefinger. It was one of those hard pressure points that would make most anyone’s grip loosen, but Clay wasn’t just anyone.

“I will choke you to death before I let you do this to Tabitha!” Clay growled, sounding serious. “I swear to God, Wyatt. Open the door!”

Wyatt could have broken out of his grasp, but he unlocked the door instead. Clay was just the sort of stubborn asshole to stand there in the cold beating on the window until he broke the police glass.

Clay let him go and slipped his hand out of the car. Then he stomped around to the other side of the car and got in. He reached down to move the passenger seat back, making it clear he planned to stay awhile.

“How’d you find me?” Wyatt asked curiously.

“Everyone knows you hide here, asshole. Jake’s been bitching ’bout it for months. You’re bad for business.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows at that. He needed a new hiding place.

“Why are you here?”

Clay turned his head, giving Wyatt a sharp look. “You know why I’m here. Tab called.”

“Clay—”

“No.” Clay cut him off. “You’re gonna sit there and listen to me.”

Wyatt snorted. “The fuck I am.”

“I ain’t giving you a choice ’bout it,” Clay went on as his eyes narrowed. “Look, I ain’t gonna say I don’t understand this. I nearly killed Melody’s ex-husband, and I’d do it again if the prick wasn’t serving forty years.”

“Do you know what Davis did to her?” Wyatt asked with a growl.

“I know.” Clay nodded as he swallowed hard and pain showed on his face. “But Wyatt—”

“Can you stop and imagine what that had to have been like for her?” Wyatt went on as his voice cracked with agony. “I’d just left her in the middle of the road. I’d just told her that she was no better than her mother. That she was gonna turn out just like her. Then she goes home, and that motherfucker”—Wyatt leaned into Clay and screamed—“raped her!”

Clay shoved him back against the seat. “It was thirteen years ago!”

“That makes it worse!” Wyatt pushed Clay’s arm off his chest and then leaned over and punched him in the shoulder because he needed something to hit. “She’s been alone all that time! I was alone!”

“And if you do this, then you will make everything she’s gone through pointless!” Clay shouted back. “You owe this to her. Make the sacrifice worth it.”

“Oh, I’m gonna make it worth something,” Wyatt assured him with a mirthless laugh.

Clay fell back against the seat and ran both his hands through his hair as he stared ahead. “We got to figure something else out. You can’t just show up and kill that fucker. There has to be another way to make this right without ruining both y’all’s lives.”

“Our lives have been ruined for a long time now.”

“Yeah, but you have a second chance now,” Clay reminded him. “You honestly want to fuck that up? Doing this is worse than leaving Tabitha in the road that night. What do you think will happen to her if you end up doing something that gets you arrested?”

“Who the fuck is gonna arrest me?” Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “This is my town.”

“A sheriff can still be arrested while he’s in office, can’t he?”

“I guess,” Wyatt had to reluctantly admit. “The coroner can do it if he has to, but it would be a really bizarre situation. I ain’t even sure how they’d go about getting the paperwork pushed through unless it was a federal crime. You’re talking ’bout my sheriff’s office and my deputies. Who’s gonna help him get it done?”

“That’s it?” Clay raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Aren’t we in the twenty-first century? There’s nothing else in place to keep you from breaking a law?”

“Not really.” Wyatt snorted. “The fine voters of Garnet Country just gotta trust me. I’d have to go out of my way to get arrested. Like actually walking into that sheriff’s office and slapping the cuffs on my own damn wrists.”

“Yeah, but that’s the thing, Wyatt,” Clay said slowly. “That’s exactly what you’d do, because you’re stupid like that, and it would kill Tabitha. I can’t let you do that to her, even if it lets Vaughn get away with what he did. I owe it to her to make sure she’s got a husband to grow old with. She deserves that.”

“I ain’t gonna let Vaughn get away with it.” Wyatt shook his head in denial. “No fucking way, and let me tell ya something else. Her brother ain’t far behind. He’s my next stop.”

“At least be smart ’bout it this time, rather than going off half-cocked and kicking their heads in. Then they’ll really win.”

“I was actually gonna shoot ’em.” Wyatt corrected him. “I’m starting to think it’s mighty unfair my sister got to put bullets in some folks before I did.”

“Romeo said they were shotgun shells.”

“No shit?” Wyatt couldn’t keep the admiration out of his voice as he turned to Clay. “Jules took those mafia guys out with a shotgun? I never got to read her statement, and we ain’t never really talked ’bout it.”

“That’s what he said.” Clay shrugged. “He said it still gives him nightmares. It was grisly.”

“Damn, don’t piss my sister off.” Wyatt laughed in spite of everything. “I should’ve brought a shotgun.”

“Are you serious, Wyatt?” Clay asked in concern.

Wyatt turned to him again. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Y’all are not okay.” Clay shook his head in disbelief. “Y’all have never been okay.”

“That ain’t a lie.” Wyatt sighed as he looked back to the parking lot. A few cars had pulled out of the parking lot, but Vaughn’s was still there despite last call being at three. “Maybe I can get him on something else. I saw him trying to buy scrubbing pads in the hardware store.”

“So?”

“They use ’em to smoke crack.”

“Never underestimate the creativity of addicts.” Clay snorted bitterly. “Some of the shit my mama used to do. Jesus.”

Wyatt fell back against the seat and took a long breath, searching for sanity. “How’d you know to come find me? What’d Tab say?”

“She called Melody when she discovered you were gone. I think she’s been having anxiety attacks behind your back. Terry must’ve suggested Mel, and they’ve been talking.”

“If seeing Vaughn gives Tabitha anxiety attacks, I can’t let him keep walking round Garnet.” Wyatt shook his head in denial. “It ain’t even ’bout revenge. How do I know he’s not gonna try and hurt her again? I let her down once; I can’t do it again.”

“You just told me Vaughn is smoking crack.” Clay let out a laugh. “Ain’t he on probation? Catch him for something else.”

“It ain’t that easy, Clay,” Wyatt barked at him. “I can’t just walk into his house and catch him. I need a fucking warrant. If I screw it up, they’ll let him off.”

“Look, buddy, you’re sheriff,” Clay said with another laugh. “If you can’t catch one drugged-out asshole who’s been breaking laws since he was old enough to walk, then maybe you need to find a new job.”

Wyatt stiffened at the insult, because he knew he was a good sheriff, but Vaughn was a surprisingly cunning criminal. Vaughn had been dodging him since Wyatt was first elected after his father’s death and had taken on the job mad at life. He was about to tell him off when he saw Vaughn come out of the bar.

Both he and Clay leaned forward, squinting past the fine sheen of snow on the windshield. Wyatt wanted him to be stumbling, but his stride was confident and steady as he walked up to his car and pulled his keys out of his pocket.

Wyatt had arrested more drunk drivers than any officer in the history of Garnet County. He knew a potential DUI when he saw one—Vaughn wasn’t it.

He waited until Vaughn turned onto the road and then flipped the keys in his ignition and pulled out after him.

“Wyatt—”

“Shut up, Clay.” Wyatt turned his lights on, and Clay grunted in disbelief beside him.

Wyatt was hoping he’d make a run for it. He wanted Vaughn to give him a reason to chase. He was banking on it, because pulling someone over without probable cause was a serious violation of their civil rights. A cop could go to jail for it, but as he told Clay, Vaughn was nothing if not cunning.

He turned down a small dead-end road, and Wyatt pulled up behind him when he stopped. Clay gave him a harsh, knowing look.

“You told me to find another way,” Wyatt said before his best friend could argue. “A DUI when he’s on probation will land him in a whole world of shit.”

“He didn’t look drunk to me.”

“But you don’t know that he isn’t,” Wyatt countered. “He did just walk out of a bar.”

“You can’t just pull someone over for walking out of a bar,” Clay argued with the authority of a man who spent most of his life living in a house full of cops and lawyers. “That’s all kinds of illegal.”

“It’s better than killing him, ain’t it?”

Clay hesitated before he held out his hand. “Gimme your gun.”

“You want me to do a traffic stop without my gun?” Wyatt laughed in disbelief. “No fucking way.”

“It’s the only way I’m letting you get out of the car. Otherwise Vaughn is gonna see me and you have it out in this vehicle.”

Wyatt narrowed his eyes at him. “Boy, what makes you think I can’t take you? I’m feeling pretty damn vindictive tonight.”

“Maybe you can…maybe you can’t.” Clay’s shrugged. “I’m feeling vindictive too. You aren’t the only one who cares for Tabitha. So try and get out with that gun, and let’s see who wins.”

“Fine.” Wyatt huffed and leaned over to his glove compartment. He pushed it, forcing it to fall open, showing Clay his 9 mm semiautomatic. “There you go.”

Clay eyed it, obviously recognizing Wyatt’s police-issue weapon. “Since when do you keep it in the glove compartment? I thought you locked it up after work.”

“I ain’t in uniform.” Wyatt gestured to himself. “Where else am I gonna put it? I can’t just toss a police-issue weapon on the seat.”

“Fine.” Clay gestured to Vaughn’s car in front of them. “Go scare him.”

“You ain’t gonna stop me?” Wyatt asked in surprise.

“From scaring him?” Clay let out a barking laugh. “Fuck, no. Scare the shit out of him. You act like I don’t hate him as much as you do.”

“That works.” Wyatt grabbed a pair of handcuffs he kept in the glove compartment as backup. Then he reached down to the floorboard and picked up his jacket before opening his door. “If I smell it on him, I’m gonna arrest him. You’ll be riding with us back to the station.”

Clay folded his arms over his chest and glared at Vaughn’s car. “Sounds good to me, but just know if you do something stupid, I will stop you. I got six championship belts that say the concussion you’ll get this time is gonna be a lot worse than it was when we were fourteen.”

“Whatever,” Wyatt said dismissively as he got out of the car. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had several dozen concussions courtesy of Clay Powers since then.

He pulled on his jacket, walking slowly to the car as he took a deep breath and fought to keep his composure. When he got to the car, Vaughn rolled down the window. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion. The anxiousness throbbing off of him was palpable.

“License and registration.”

“You don’t know who I am?” Vaughn asked in false bravado, though Wyatt could hear the nerves in his voice. “Why do you need my license?”

“License and registration,” Wyatt repeated as he arched an eyebrow at him.

“Fine.” Vaughn reached over to the glove compartment and made unhurried work of finding his registration. Then he grabbed his wallet from the seat next to him and pulled out his license. He handed them over to Wyatt. “Can you tell me why I’m being stopped?”

Wyatt took them and made the actual attempt to look at the information before he said, “Have you been drinking tonight, Mr. Davis?”

“I had two beers. That’s it.”

Wyatt stepped back. “I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.”

“This is bullshit!” Vaughn snapped. “I was driving the speed limit. I wasn’t swerving. You’re not even in uniform. You’re stopping me for something else.”

“What? Are you scared she talks in her sleep?” Wyatt narrowed his eyes at Vaughn, holding his gaze for one long moment before he said, “She does, by the way. In case you were wondering. Now step out of the vehicle.”

Vaughn just looked up at him, his face pale and splotched with fear. His breathing fell noticeably shallow, but he didn’t talk. He just opened the door slowly, making it obvious the last thing in the world he wanted to do was get out.

If Wyatt’s goal was to scare him, it obviously worked.

He didn’t see the gun until Vaughn jerked it out from where he had it hiding underneath his thigh. The flash of silver glowed in the night. It was a wild, desperate action done by a man who’d probably been packing heat since the moment he saw Wyatt with Tabitha in the hardware store.

Wyatt moved before he made a conscious decision to do it, and two gunshots rang out. Wyatt’s stomach jolted with a sharp sear of pain that ripped around to his back, but he didn’t bother looking down as the ring of shots fired still buzzed in his ears.

Instead he kept the .45 he had hidden in the back of his jeans pointed at Vaughn, who was sprawled out on the pavement, obviously in shock over what just happened.

“Let me see your hands!” he growled in his most intimidating sheriff’s voice. “Now, Davis!”

“You fucking shot me!” Vaughn clutched at his chest, where a large stain of blood was spreading out over his yellow T-shirt.

“And I will shoot you again, motherfucker,” Wyatt promised as he eyed Vaughn’s gun on the ground. “Gimme a reason!”

Despite the gunshot wound, Vaughn Davis threw his hands up.

“What the fuck?” Clay shouted as he came running over.

“He pulled a gun on me.” Wyatt gestured to Vaughn’s gun. “Didn’t you hear the second shot?”

Clay turned to him wildly. “Did he get you?”

“I need you to put in a call to dispatch right now.” Wyatt tilted his head toward his car. “Get an ambulance and backup out here.”

“I don’t even know how to work the damn thing.”

“Use your cell phone, asshole. Dial 9-1-1!”

Clay stood there staring at him, and then he glanced down to Vaughn still bleeding on the ground. “You sure you want me to make this call?”

Wyatt made a stuttering sound of shock, because he knew what Clay was suggesting. They were alone on this road. Wyatt hadn’t called in the stop. They could end it if they wanted. He remembered hearing once that a true friend would help you hide a body. He just never expected to actually test that theory with Clay.

“Make the call,” Wyatt said before he could change his mind. “Now.”

Clay pulled out his phone while Wyatt stood there shaking. His stomach was hurting so bad he was worried he was going to double over and puke on his shoes, but he didn’t give in to the urge to glance down and look for damage. He just kept his eyes on Vaughn, whose breathing was hard and raspy. Vaughn’s hands shook, but he didn’t move.

Wyatt’s gaze finally lowered to the wound he’d caused, and he knew instinctively it was too close to Vaughn’s shoulder to be lethal. It wasn’t a great shot, but he had done it on pure instinct, and it was center mass. Good enough.

Clay stopped speaking on the cell phone and barked, “Are you shot, Wyatt? They need to know this shit!”

“I don’t know!” Wyatt shouted back. Vaughn lifted his head curiously, and Wyatt stepped closer. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m surely alive enough to shoot you again, Davis. Don’t even think ’bout trying me, ’cause I ain’t missing the next time.”

“You didn’t miss this time.” Vaughn grunted in pain.

“Yeah, I did.” Wyatt shook his head. The bad shot really was disappointing. “Hey!” he shouted when Vaughn tried to reach for his chest again. “Keep your hands where I can see them!”

Adam got there ahead of the ambulance, his police sirens announcing his arrival long before he pulled up. The blue and red lit up the night. The screech of police tires against asphalt was noticeable before Adam came bursting out of his cruiser with his gun drawn. The pain in Wyatt’s stomach made him nervous enough to wait for backup, but Adam was his best deputy. He stepped back, letting Adam secure the gun and then handcuff Vaughn, who bitched about the rough treatment badly enough that Wyatt knew he wasn’t going to die.

Then Adam backed up a few steps. He had his gun drawn as they stood there waiting for the ambulance. “You okay, Sheriff? They said you might be shot.”

Wyatt lowered his gun with the realization he still had it trained on Vaughn and met Adam’s hazel gaze that stood out starkly against his dark skin. He could see the million questions swirling in them, but Wyatt knew he would never ask.

He couldn’t ask.

Any officer had a right to legal counsel before he talked about a shooting. Wyatt was still in raw shock, but he couldn’t deny the pain that was still ripping through his waist and going into the small of his back. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you think you ought to figure that out?” Adam raised his eyebrows and then made a point to look Wyatt over. “You look fine to me.”

Wyatt pulled up his shirt, looking at his stomach in confusion when he found nothing but healthy skin. “He missed.”

“Looks like it.” Adam nodded. “That shit scared me near to death. Why’d you think you got shot?”

Wyatt shook his head, wondering if he’d finally lost touch of reality. He looked to Clay, who was leaning back against Wyatt’s car. He was scowling in concern, his large arms folded over his chest, but he let Adam do his job without getting in the way.

Wyatt was still pondering it when the radio at Adam’s hip crackled.

“EMS requesting medevac 10-18 at 415 Lark Street, 4A. Thirty-four-year-old, thirty-eight-week-pregnant female in labor distress.”

“That’s my sister’s address.” Wyatt turned to Adam in horror and then touched his stomach when the realization hit him. “It’s Jules!”

“Shit.” Adam looked at Vaughn on the ground and to the gun still in Wyatt’s hand. Then he gestured with his gun to the car. “Well, go! I got this.”

Wyatt went to leave but then turned back and handed his gun over to Adam. “You need it for evidence.”

“Oh hell, Sheriff.” Adam looked at the gun in his hand like it was toxic.

“Take it,” Wyatt said firmly despite the heartbeat thundering in his ears. “Then call the DOJ. This is your crime scene, Adam. Do the job you’re paid to do.”

Adam took the gun.

Wyatt didn’t even look back as he ran for the car. Clay was already behind the wheel, and Wyatt decided to let him drive as he jerked open the passenger side door. “EMS just requested a medevac 10-18 for Jules!”

“What does that mean?” Clay asked frantically as he started the car. “I heard you say the call was for Jules, but—”

“It means the paramedics just called in a helicopter. It’s a fucking emergency!” Wyatt shouted as he reached over and turned on the lights and sirens. “Drive!”

“Are we going to Jules’s house?”

“No, we’re going to Mercy.” Wyatt pulled open his glove compartment and grabbed his phone, seeing that he had missed twenty-four calls. “Oh, shit, Clay! I had my phone off. What if they tried to call me first—”

“Just call Romeo!”

Wyatt dialed his brother-in-law, but there was no answer. “He’s not answering!”

“Try it again.”

“No, I’m calling Tino.” Wyatt searched through his contacts for Tino’s number, deciding right then he knew way too many fucking people. “I’m gonna fucking puke.”

Clay looked at him, his eyes wide. “The sick vibe’s that bad?”

“I thought I got shot. What’d you think?” Wyatt snapped when he found Tino in his contacts. He held the phone to his ear, listening to it ring three times before it clicked on. He didn’t even wait for him to speak before he shouted, “What the hell is going on?”

“Where the fuck are you?” Tino shouted back. “We’ve been calling you!”

“Just tell me what’s happening.”

“There’s a helicopter landing at the end of our street; that’s what’s happening!” Tino’s voice was shaking, making it obvious he was crying. He cursed in Italian before he started in again. “She just started bleeding all over the place for no reason! They said she’s hemorrhaging. They said we could lose the babies. They’re not gonna let Romeo go with her, and—”

“Tino!” Wyatt cut him off. “Listen to me. Take a breath!”

Tino stopped ranting and sucked in a sharp breath.

“I am gonna call dispatch and clear the way for you to Mercy,” Wyatt went on as he listened to Tino’s labored breathing on the other side. “As soon as they load her into the ’copter, you put Romeo in that Ferrari, and you drive it like that car was meant to be driven. No one’s gonna stop you. Floor it. You got me, boy?”

“I got you.” Tino choked. “But I gotta hang up. I’m on the other line with Nova and—”

“You do not make any phone calls once you get behind that wheel,” Wyatt snapped at him. “If phone calls got to be made, you let Romeo make them, and don’t listen to the shit Romeo is saying. Your only goal in life at this moment is to get your brother to the hospital. Eyes on the road. Drive safe. Drive fast, and we will meet you there. I know you can do this.”

“Yeah, okay, I can do this.” Tino took another deep breath. “I’ll have Romeo call you when we get into the car.”

“Do that.”

Wyatt clicked his phone off. He made the call to dispatch and then dropped the mic in his lap. He doubled over, taking a moment to fight past the nausea and nerves that were making his head throb. He really needed to get a higher dose of his fucking blood pressure medication. His life had been one major drama after another for a full year now.

“What’s gonna happen with Vaughn?” Clay asked as he drove, his foot leaden to the point that they might actually beat Tino and Romeo in the Ferrari. “You said no one can arrest you, right?”

“But Adam’s got to call the DOJ for this. Usually I would investigate an officer-involved shooting, but there’s no one above me. So it has to go to the DOJ. That’s outside Garnet’s jurisdiction. It’s federal.”

“DOJ?”

“Department of Justice.”

“And they can arrest you?”

“Yeah,” Wyatt whispered as he fought past both his medical problems and Jules’s that were the gift from their parents. “They can arrest me.”

“Will they?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed at his head as he thought about it. “I didn’t call in the stop. I wasn’t on duty or in uniform. I have a personal vendetta against Vaughn, and what happens if the past comes out? I nearly killed him once before.”

“Yeah, but no one knows about it.”

“There was a witness the first time, and my father conducted the investigation,” Wyatt reminded him. “If the DOJ got involved and Vaughn gave them all the details, they could question Jason Wiltkins. They could question Brett too. He’d have a pretty fucking good case.”

“I’m a witness,” Clay reminded him. “I saw him pull a gun on you.”

“Yeah, but that could be considered self-defense on his part. He has a right to defend himself too.”

“What are you trying to say, Wyatt?”

“I’m saying I’m in some serious shit.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Wyatt’s sister knew a lot of people.

At seven in the morning, Tabitha could not honestly believe how chock-full Jules’s emergency had filled that waiting room. Clay, Melody, Tino, Wyatt, and Tabitha all sat there for the few hours, before a young fighter named Chuito had come in dragging a pretty girl with strawberry-blonde hair named Alaine, who was apparently Jules’s assistant.

Tabitha recognized Chuito from UFC fight footage, but she’d just known him as The Slayer. She suspected Chuito and Alaine might be dating. He had his arm draped over Alaine’s shoulders and was rubbing her arm soothingly.

They’d seen Romeo a few times. The babies were in NICU, but the doctors had assured him they’d be fine. It was just a precaution. He was staying with them while Jules was in surgery. Her uterus had ruptured. Romeo told them it was a miracle any of them lived.

He was still covered in Jules’s blood when he’d walked out, and he had the shell-shocked look of a man who was dealing with so many overlapping problems he didn’t know which one to cry about first. He had to sign papers that allowed them to perform a hysterectomy on Jules if it was medically necessary, and with a sob of emotion he had come to Wyatt and said, “She’ll fucking hate me if they do this to her.”

Wyatt had just shaken his head and said, “Nah, she ain’t gonna hate you. Whatever those docs need you to do to save her life, you do it, and I’ll help ya deal with the fallout.”

Things were very tense to say the least.

“Do you want me to get you a cup of coffee?” Tabitha asked as she rubbed Wyatt’s back. He looked almost as bad as Romeo. In some ways he looked worse. His blond hair stood up in spikes from constantly running his hands through it. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles of stress and exhaustion under them, and it was horrible to see. “I can get it for you. You’re the only who ain’t had some.”

“Are you kidding?” Wyatt rubbed at his eyes. “If I drink a cup of coffee right now, I will fucking drop dead of a heart attack.”

“What?” Tabitha frowned at him.

“I got high blood pressure.” Wyatt shook his head as if admitting it was difficult. “I shouldn’t drink coffee at all, but with this level of stress. Jesus, no, I can stay awake.”

“You have high blood pressure?” Tabitha repeated in disbelief as she looked at Wyatt’s strong, powerful body. “You have to be the healthiest fella alive.”

“Yeah, you’d think so.” Wyatt let out a bitter laugh. “Jules and I had the shit luck to inherit both of the things that killed our parents.”

“Wyatt—” Tabitha whispered, because that scared her to death. “Are you taking care of it?”

“Yes.” He turned to her and patted her thigh. “I take medication. I exercise. It’s fine, Tabby. I’m just really stressed out.”

“You should have told me. I’m gonna start cooking different things for you.”

“Thanks, darlin’.” Wyatt sat up and draped an arm over her shoulders. Then he fell back against the seat, pulling her tighter to him and placing a kiss against the top of her head. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest as she sat there listening to his heartbeat. She placed a hand on the spot where it was thumping hard and fast, trying to will some sort of peace for him.

Neither of them had talked about what happened when he disappeared into the night a few hours earlier. Everything had been so tense and frantic, it didn’t seem that important at the moment. They could deal with it after they found out how Jules’s surgery went.

They stayed curled together until the sound of boots against linoleum had Wyatt turning toward the intruder on their private crisis as if he expected an attack, but the tension fell out of his shoulders just as quickly as it appeared.

“Who the hell did he have to kill to get a flight from New York that fast?” Wyatt said in disbelief.

Before she could ask, Tino shouted, “Nova!”

“Romeo’s other brother,” Wyatt filled in for her.

“Oh.” Tabitha watched Tino hug his brother as if desperate for the comfort.

Nova kissed Tino’s forehead in a way that was common for New York Italians. Then he patted Tino’s cheek and draped an arm around him, pulling him close. “Where’s Rome?”

“He’s with the babies,” Tino whispered.

“How are they? What have you heard?”

“Romeo said they were doing good the last time he came out.”

“You told me they were in NICU when I got off the plane,” Nova said sharply. “Where are the doctors? Has anyone talked to them? Are they specialists? Who is hacking into Jules? Who is taking care of our nephews?”

“I don’t know,” Tino whispered.

“Merda, Tino, you didn’t ask?” Nova ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in dark spikes. “You know Romeo’s outta his mind.”

“What the fuck am I gonna ask them?” Tino threw up his hands. “What do I know about this shit?”

“I know. Not your fault.” Nova patted his cheek again. “You did good. Missed you.”

“Yeah, we’ve missed you too.” Tino hugged his brother, clinging to him once more. “I hope Jules and the babies are okay. You don’t even know how horrible that shit was. I’m gonna have nightmares for life. I thought she was gonna die right there in Rome’s arms.”

“We’re here now. We’ll get it taken care of.”

Nova let go of Tino and pulled off his long trench-coat-style jacket, showing off a thickly muscled chest. He wore a simple black T-shirt and jeans, but they were all obviously designer. He ran a hand through his hair again and looked around the room, as if searching for someone who had better answers. His gaze stopped on her and Wyatt.

He tilted his head, shock showing on his handsome face for one long moment, and Tabitha got the impression not much surprised this young man. She was naturally a people watcher, and Nova Moretti had such a powerful air about him she couldn’t help but be fascinated by him. It was like he demanded everyone in the room look at him if they wanted to or not, and it was doubly strange because he couldn’t be more than twenty-five.

He walked over to them, and Wyatt lifted his head from where he had bowed it, obviously not nearly as interested in the reunion as Tabitha was.

“Moretti.” Wyatt grunted.

“Hey, Conner.” Nova’s gaze darted back to Tabitha even though he was still speaking to Wyatt. “Bad night.”

“Yeah.” Wyatt nodded. “We really got to stop meeting like this.”

Nova let out a little laugh as he reached out and grasped Wyatt’s shoulder affectionately. “It’ll be okay, paisan.”

“They’re specialists,” Wyatt said, as if sensing Nova’s next question. “I wouldn’t let someone hack into my sister unless I was confident they knew what they were doing. Romeo wouldn’t either. She’s in good hands.”

“I still wanna talk to them.” Nova’s gaze darted back to her. “Tabitha.”

She smiled. “Yes.”

Nova held out his hand, and when Tabitha took it, he introduced himself. “Nova.”

“Hi, Nova. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry the circumstances are so difficult.”

“You don’t remember me,” he whispered.

Tabitha raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Am I supposed to?”

Nova seemed to think about it for a few seconds before he said, “No, you’re not. It’s better.” He wrapped his other hand around hers, holding it trapped between his warm palms as his smile broadened. “It’s nice to meet you too, Tabitha. I bet you like heroes.”

“I do.” Tabitha nodded. “I love them.”

“Yeah, I like them too.” His gaze darted to Wyatt, and he shook his head. “Unbelievable, Conner. I cannot believe you landed T.C. Rennoc. I knew those books were about you. I just didn’t know who actually wrote them. It’s a small fucking world.”

“Now’s the point where you let go of my wife’s hand.” Wyatt eyed Tabitha’s hand still trapped between Nova’s. Then he turned to her and said loud enough for Nova to hear, “He’s strange. He says weird stuff all the time.”

“I’m not even going to hold that against you.” Nova was still smiling. “I know you’re having a shit night.”

“Moretti.” Wyatt lifted his head and let out a broken laugh. “You don’t know the half of it. Let go of her.”

Nova threw his hands up in surrender and then turned to look toward the doors where Jules was having surgery. “Now where are these doctors?”

* * *

Jules made it through the surgery.

They didn’t take her uterus.

The twins were both okay.

Wyatt had a lot to be thankful for, but the DOJ investigators showing up at the hospital when everyone was still there wasn’t one of them. They’d waited until Wyatt had gotten a chance to see his nephews in the NICU. The babies had Romeo’s dark hair and Jules’s lungs. Wyatt could hear them through the glass, and it was a good thing.

Bawling babies were healthy babies according to the doctors.

Wyatt wished he could see his sister too, but she was still in recovery. The only one who’d gotten to see her so far was Romeo, who looked like he was going to drop where he stood from the relief.

“Sheriff Conner.” One of the investigators stepped forward as Wyatt walked out of the maternity ward and inclined his head to him. “Do you have a moment?”

“Sure.” Wyatt lifted his arm off Tabitha’s shoulders and leaned down to kiss her. “Give me a minute. Cop stuff.”

“Okay.” Tabitha nodded. “I’ll just go get another cup of coffee.”

Wyatt had taken two steps with the DOJ investigators before Nova called out from behind him, “Hey, Conner.”

He held up a hand to Jules’s brother-in-law. “It’s fine.”

“Yeah, no, it’s not.” Nova said with a laugh. “You’ve been up all night fearing for your sister and your nephews’ lives. You’re too tired and distracted to properly explain what happened. It would put the investigation in jeopardy, and I’m sure none of you want that.”

“Have you been up all night?” the investigator asked in concern.

“I have, yeah.” Wyatt nodded. “My sister’s in ICU. Her sons are in the NICU. She was medevaced in from Garnet earlier. This wasn’t a normal delivery. She had a uterine rupture.”

“We’re going to give you our card, Sheriff.” He pulled a card out of his wallet. “We understand this is a family emergency. You can call us tomorrow.”

Wyatt took the card and looked at it. “I’ll do that. First thing.”

The other investigator smiled. “I hope your sister and nephews get better.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Wyatt looked at the card again as the investigators walked off. Then he glanced at Tabitha, who frowned in response.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“Um.” He flipped the card over in his fingers and then stuffed it into his back pocket as he considered lying to her. Then he decided the two of them had enough lies between them to last a lifetime. “I shot Vaughn Davis during a traffic stop earlier this morning.”

Wyatt could actually see the color drain from Tabitha’s face. She didn’t say anything, just stood there staring at him in muted horror.

It was Melody who voiced the question out loud. “You did what?”

Wyatt held up his hands and turned back to their crowd of spectators. It really was bad timing on the DOJ’s part. He hadn’t realized how large their family had grown in such a short amount of time until he had to announce to all of them, “He pulled a gun on me. Shots were fired. He missed. I didn’t. It wasn’t fatal. He’ll live. They were probably here to see him and happened to hear I was also in the hospital. Any shooting involving a cop requires an investigation. This is all standard procedure.”

“But Clay was with you earlier this morning,” Melody whispered, still the voice of the masses.

“Yep.” Wyatt nodded. “That was one of the unfortunate things ’bout it.”

“Aren’t you off on Tuesdays and Wednesdays?” Chuito asked.

Wyatt nodded again. “Also extremely unfortunate.”

“What did I say last night?” Tabitha finally asked in a quivering voice.

Wyatt bowed his head and took a shuddering breath. “This ain’t your fault, Tab. Not even a little. I pulled him over while I was off duty. It’s my fault.”

“Oh, Conner,” Nova said from behind them. “You and me, we gotta talk.”

“You got enough of your own problems, Moretti.” Wyatt shook his head as he turned around. “Now, if y’all will excuse us. I’m gonna take a few minutes to talk to my wife. Let me know when we can go in to see Jules. We’re going outside for some air.”

* * *

Tabitha wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel.

There were so many overlapping horrors to deal with it was impossible to sort them all out.

Fear, horror, embarrassment, and what she didn’t want to acknowledge, but did anyway, was that small flame of anger at Wyatt. That he would risk not only the life he’d made for himself, but the kindling of hope they’d had to make a life together.

He was an elected official in the County of Garnet. He was respected and admired. Everyone in this town loved him. He should be mature enough to know better. He wasn’t a twenty-one-year-old hotheaded kid anymore. She had a right to her anger. She knew it, but the circumstances with Jules kept her from lashing out at him as the two of them sat at one of the small tables outside the hospital. Tabitha was drinking coffee. Wyatt had a bottle of water, and for several long minutes, they just stayed there in silence, both of them finally taking a moment to fully absorb the secrets that had just been torn open and laid at their feet in front of all Wyatt’s friends and family.

“You’re mad at me,” Wyatt finally whispered. “I can tell, but I swear, Tab. I wasn’t intending to shoot him.”

Tabitha arched an eyebrow. “You left in the middle of the night to make a traffic stop?”

Wyatt considered her for a second before he looked down at the table. He picked at the peeling paint at the end. “Okay.” He huffed. “I’ll admit that was my knee-jerk response.”

“Oh my God.” She shook her head as she looked at him. “Wyatt, this isn’t the Old West. You can’t just go out and shoot someone for touching your girl.”

“Touching my girl,” Wyatt repeated in disbelief. “Unless I got it figured wrong, he drugged you badly enough to cause an overdose, and then—”

“Don’t say it.” Tabitha cut him off.

Wyatt leaned his elbows against the table and put his face in his hands as the sadness and tension radiated off him violently enough it almost made Tabitha sick secondhand. “I can’t stop thinking ’bout it,” he whispered miserably. “I can’t stop thinking ’bout what that had to have been like for you. I can’t stop wishing for a chance to go back and take that fight back. There’s just so much. So much. I can’t even begin to sort it out.”

“I know.” She choked back the urge to completely break down. “We’re broken, Wyatt. You think it’s not terrible for me too, knowing that you found out what happened. I wanted to stay beautiful to you. I should’ve never come back. I should’ve let my mother die in that rotting house. Nothing was worth ruining what we were.”

“You got it all wrong, darlin’.” He dropped his hands and looked at her, with tears shining in his light eyes. “You’re always beautiful. Always. There’s no way Vaughn could take that away. It’s impossible. You have always been perfect to me.”

Tabitha covered her face and let out a sob, because she heard the truth in his words.

For reasons she would never understand, Wyatt’s love for her was completely loyal and unending. It didn’t tarnish. It didn’t fade. It never curved to the winds of change, and her feelings for him were the same. She should be furious at him, but when it came down to it, the anger simply evaporated under the golden gleam that always radiated off her hero, and she just adored him instead. Life handed them true love; she just couldn’t decide if it was a gift or a curse.

Wyatt stood and pulled his chair up next to her. Then he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to fall into his arms. She buried her face against his chest and sobbed for who they once were. For what they’d lost. For what they couldn’t change. She cried for them as children, young and completely ignorant of the pain one act of kindness had caused.

Life would’ve been easier if he’d never taught her to believe in heroes by handing her those cookies that day, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as magnificent either. Even in the face of yet another tragedy, Tabitha realized she wouldn’t take it back. For thirteen years she had assumed Wyatt finding out would mean some of the beauty would wilt and die, but she was wrong. It just grew stronger, making her mourn what they’d lost all the more.

Wyatt rested his cheek against the top of her head, and he cried too. In those raspy, broken sobs, she heard the same mourning. The same loss. The same appreciation for something perfect and beautiful. All the hurt in the world couldn’t destroy the love, but it could destroy them for having it.

“I’m in trouble,” Wyatt choked out when the tears finally started to subside. “I didn’t mean to do it. Clay talked me down. I was just gonna try to get him on a DUI. I didn’t want you to have to see him again, but he pulled a gun, and I shot him before I even realized I did it.”

Tabitha pulled back and studied him. “Then why would you be in trouble?”

“It’s complicated, but I just am.” Wyatt wiped at his cheeks impatiently. “There’s a lot of reasons why this is gonna be bad.”

“They seemed nice,” Tabitha argued, because there was a side of her not completely broken by life that refused to believe this was where it was supposed to end. “Those officers didn’t look like they had any bad intentions.”

“You know I was the one who beat up your brother and Vaughn in high school.” Wyatt shook his head, looking lost and bewildered in a way she’d never seen before. “All he has to do is tell them that, and it’ll launch a full-scale investigation that’s gonna unearth a whole shitload of evidence that proves he had every right to fear for his life. I have been a major thorn in his side for years. Now he’s got a chance to get me brought up on charges. I’m sorry, Tab, but I’m fucked. I guarantee you, I am not getting out of this.”

Tabitha put a hand to her eyes, fighting a fresh bout of tears when she thought about how terrible it would be for Wyatt to face something like that. His reputation would be ruined. Everything he prided himself on would crumple at his feet. She didn’t want to believe there was a world out there that would do that to him, but she had learned a long time ago that the world was unkind more often than not.

“It would’ve been better to take the bullet,” Wyatt whispered dejectedly.

There had never been a time in her life where she would agree with that—until now.

Wyatt might have been able to endure a bullet wound, but this would likely destroy him.

“We’ll get a lawyer.” Tabitha reached out and rubbed his thigh. “I can afford a really good one.”

Wyatt shrugged. “What’s a good lawyer gonna do for me? Plea bargain for a lesser charge? I’ll never be able to be sheriff again. I’m still facing jail time, even with the best lawyer money can afford. This is my business. I know a solid case when I see one.”

She didn’t have a solution for him. Like he said, this was his business. If Wyatt said he was fucked, Tabitha knew he probably was. She didn’t have a single solution to offer, so she just leaned into him once more and wrapped her arms around him. Wyatt hugged her back, and together they just sat together in the cool November morning and tried to come to terms with the fact that their lives were about to be ripped apart more violently than they had the first time they’d thought love made them invincible.

“I want you to leave,” Wyatt said in a gruff voice, as if the words were tearing out his soul. “When everything starts going down, I want you to go back to Key West. Be happy. Love life. Be amazing at everything you do.” He repeated the words she’d written to him in that letter so long ago as if he’d read it a million times. “’Cause I know you can. The whole world knows it, and I’m so happy everyone gets to see you as I’ve always seen you.”

“No.” She placed a hand over his heart, knowing it beat for her, and everything in her wanted to stay right where she was right now. “I’m not leaving this time.”

“That’s your gift to me.” Wyatt kissed the top of her head once more. “I’m sorry, Tabby, but I need to know you’ll do this for me. I can survive everyone else seeing me fall, but I never want you to see it. It’ll kill me. I know it. Please tell me you understand.”

Tabitha wanted to lie to him. They’d been so good at it for the past four months, but in the end she couldn’t do it. “I do understand.” She tightened her arms around him, clinging to what she knew was slipping through her fingers. “I don’t want to, but I do.”

“I want you to write a hundred more books.” Wyatt ran his hand over her back softly, and even through the tears she could still hear the smile in his voice. “Promise you’ll keep me a perfect memory.”

“It’s not hopeless yet,” she said defiantly, refusing to promise, because she knew what it meant. “Let’s just wait and see what happens.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“I got you a change of clothes.” Wyatt handed Romeo a pair of jeans and a T-shirt he had gotten out of his gym bag that he kept in his SUV. “I should’ve thought ’bout it earlier. I was distracted. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, Wyatt.” Romeo took the clothes, looking genuinely grateful for them. “I should’ve changed before I left for the hospital, but—”

“Hey, no one’s blaming ya for it,” Wyatt said and then made a point to look at Romeo, who still had Jules’s blood staining his jeans and T-shirt. “But you got to change. Go take a moment. Get yourself a cup of coffee. Hell, have two. You look like you need it. I can sit with her.”

“She’s still”—Romeo raised his eyebrows—”really relaxed after the surgery.”

“I’m sure I can handle it. I’ve been dealing with my sister a lot longer than you have,” Wyatt reminded him. “Take your time. Go see the twins again. We got your back.”

“Okay, yeah.” Romeo nodded. “I will. I’m going to take some more pictures. Even stoned outta her friggin’ mind, she’s driving the doctors and nurses crazy wanting to see them.”

“Then go.” Wyatt gestured to the doors that led out of the ICU.

Romeo surprised him by stepping forward and hugging Wyatt in that same tight, strong-armed way he hugged his own brothers. It was obvious the chaos of the night was wearing on him. His emotions were right on the surface, and Wyatt understood completely. He patted his brother-in-law’s back affectionately as he reeled over the bizarreness of his life that had allied him with Romeo Wellings of all people.

“She’s been asking ’bout you too,” Romeo said as he pulled away. “She’s been asking for you a lot actually. She keeps saying something’s wrong with you.” He shook his head. “They got her high as a kite. It’s making her paranoid as hell.”

“Yeah,” Wyatt agreed distantly. “That must be it.”

“Tell her I’m taking more pictures. I won’t be too long.”

Romeo was halfway down the hallway before something occurred to Wyatt, and he called out, “Hey.”

He turned around, arching an eyebrow curiously. “Yeah?”

“Congratulations.”

Romeo pulled back, making it obvious that was the first he’d heard it. Then he gave Wyatt a wide, pleased smile that lit up his entire face and showed the first signs of excitement for the future rather than the stress and strain he had been dealing with for the past nine months. “Thanks, man.”

“Sure.” Wyatt gestured to the doors once more. “Go look after those boys, Dad. You might as well enjoy it now. Twins are something else.”

“Nah, they’ll be good,” Romeo said confidently. “They got half Juliet in them. They gotta be good.”

Wyatt laughed. “Whoa boy, who lied to you? Wait and see; it’s gonna be interesting.”

“I can handle a little interesting.” Romeo laughed with him before he turned once more to leave. “See you soon.”

Wyatt walked to Jules’s room. He had already checked in at the nurse’s station and had a sticker on his chest that said he had a right to be there. He could hear his sister’s voice before he stepped past the door, because it echoed off the stark walls, vibrant and demanding as always.

“Just put me in a wheelchair. Five minutes.”

“Darlin’, you just got out of surgery, and you lost a lot of blood. You need to get a little stronger first.”

“I’m strong.” Jules sounded unbendingly confident about it despite the slur in her voice. “My daddy made me strong.”

“That ain’t a lie, you know.” Wyatt stepped in the room and saw his sister, who was so pale her lips were almost blue. She had IV’s in both arms, and wires coming out of her gown that tracked the steady beat of her heart, but he didn’t doubt her words as he confirmed to the nurse, “Her daddy did make her strong.”

“Wy Wy.” A frown marred Jules’s forehead when she turned to him. Her blue eyes were darker than they usually were, her pupils wide and dilated from whatever drugs they were giving her, but still she saw what Romeo didn’t and asked, “What happened to you?”

“Well.” Wyatt grabbed the chair Romeo had obviously been sitting it and pulled it closer to Jules’s bed. “Let’s see. My sister made me an uncle this morning. That happened. Wanna see some pictures of my nephews?”

Jules made a move to sit up a little.

“Honey, you can’t move too much yet.”

“I got her,” Wyatt said as he took his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t move round too much.”

That seemed to appease the nurse, who walked out of the room as Wyatt searched for the pictures he took of Jules’s sons. He held up his phone to his sister, showing her the first one.

“Oh.” Jules took the phone from him, staring at the screen with a look of motherly adoration. Tears filled her eyes as she whispered, “I wanna hold him so badly. Which one is he?”

Wyatt looked at the screen, trying to see what bed he was lying in. “That’s Freddy.”

“Sweet like Daddy.” Jules let out a little giggle. “He looks like a Fred, dontcha think?”

Actually, he didn’t look anything like a Fred. He looked more like a Nova or a Tino, with his olive coloring and dark hair, but Wyatt didn’t argue. If they’d had a daughter, they would have named her after Romeo’s mother, but they didn’t.

Romeo didn’t seem to mind letting Jules honor her family instead, and Wyatt knew it meant the world to Jules. So they’d be Italians with two of the biggest redneck names on earth. One day they might complain about it, and Jules could send them to talk to their Uncle Wyatt, who most certainly won the prize in that category.

He hoped they did better with their legacy than Wyatt had done with his.

“He sure does.” He took his phone back and swiped his finger across the screen, looking for another clear picture. “I think Dad would be mighty proud ’bout right now. Grandpa too. You know he’d be strutting round this hospital telling everyone Charlie was named after him.”

Jules nodded, tears filling her eyes once more. “He would.”

“Charlie.” Wyatt showed her a picture of her son screaming his head off. “Screeching like his mama.”

“Hush.” Jules took the phone again. “He’s beautiful. They’re both beautiful, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Wyatt agreed softly. “You did good. I’m proud of you.”

“I wish it didn’t happen like this.” Jules’s bottom lip jutted out as she took over swiping through picture after picture Wyatt had taken. “I hate seeing ’em alone like that.”

“Sweetheart,” Wyatt started as he pulled his phone back and found a picture of Tino posing in front of the glass, a wide smile on his handsome face with his nephews being held up on either side of him by the nurses in the NICU. “They aren’t alone.”

He handed the phone back to her.

Jules laughed hard enough that she winced in pain as she stared at the picture of her brother-in-law hamming it up for the camera. “I may never get to hold those boys with Tino in the house. He’s so excited.”

Wyatt decided not to tell her how out of his mind Tino had been a few hours earlier. That picture had been the first smile Wyatt saw from him. Seeing the babies healthy and strong had lightened the mood for all of them, especially knowing Jules was going to be okay.

Jules was obviously tired, but she lay there for a long time looking through the pictures Wyatt had taken. He’d taken a lot. When she did drop her arm, her eyes closed and Wyatt thought she had fallen asleep. Instead she turned her head on her pillow and studied him. She left the phone on her chest and reached out, touching the crease between Wyatt’s eyes thoughtfully.

“What happened?” she asked as if the first conversation had never happened and they were looping back to where they started. “Did she leave?”

Wyatt shook his head. “No.”

“Is she going to?”

“Probably.” His voice cracked on the word, and he turned away, fighting the surge of loss that hit him square in the chest hard enough to steal his breath. “Love was kinder to you, Ju Ju.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she argued as she reached up and touched the crease between his eyes once more. “I just fought harder.”

Wyatt could always count on Jules to state the obvious, and he winced at the bitter truth of it.

Jules eyes closed. Her arm dropped. The beeping on the heart monitor told Wyatt she was closer to sleep than wakefulness, but still she whispered, “Daddy made you strong too.”

“Did he?” Wyatt asked, because he wasn’t so sure.

“Yes.” Jules didn’t seem to doubt it. “If you got something to fight for, you fight, Wy Wy. Promise.”

Wyatt leaned down and kissed Jules’s forehead instead.

She fell asleep before he had to promise.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky by the time they got home.

Tabitha was exhausted. Wyatt even more so. If it was just the physical strain, they might have been able to ride into the sunset on the adrenaline, but as it was, they pulled off their clothes and fell into bed in their underwear.

Tabitha did managed to tug off her bra and toss it over the bed, which wasn’t like her, but she was too broken to bother picking up any of the clothes now littered over the bedroom.

Wyatt rolled up next to her, and she curled into him, with her head resting on his arm and his heavy body draped over hers. She closed her eyes, savoring his scent. The feel of his warm skin. The rhythm of his breathing. The strong energy that still vibrated off him, even at the very moment when it should have dimmed under the weight of injustice resting on his broad shoulders. She just let it all wrap around her and lull her into a false sense of security.

They didn’t say anything to each other.

They just let sleep claim them instead.

Tabitha’s nightmares were different. In them, Vaughn had a gun pointed at Wyatt, his finger on the trigger, and Tabitha screamed, desperate to warn him. To do something to help him. She would have jumped in front of him and taken the bullet instead, but she was rooted to the spot, forced to watch helplessly when Vaughn fired.

She screamed when she saw it tear into Wyatt’s chest. The rest of him was strong. His heart was vulnerable.

“Wyatt! No!” she shouted, but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t go to him. He was dying alone. “Please! No!”

“Tabby, you’re dreaming, darlin’.”

Tabitha jerked at the low rumble of Wyatt’s voice against her ear. His arms had tightened around her, and it helped to wake her up more fully. She was covered in a cold sweat, and she turned in his arms to look into his eyes that were wide and bright in the darkness.

She reached up and touched his chest, feeling for herself that his heart was still beating. Wyatt stroked her sweaty hair away from her temples as she took a quivering breath and whispered, “This is worse. It’s so much worse.” The thump against her open palm told her Wyatt was still healthy, but it still felt like Vaughn had raped her soul rather than just her body as she fought her way back from the nightmare. “He’s taken everything this time.”

“Not everything.” Wyatt kissed her, soft and chaste, and then breathed against her lips, “We have now.”

Vaughn could take everything else. He nearly had, but right now she was in Wyatt’s arms, and Vaughn couldn’t have that. The love was untouchable. It always had been, and she gave in to it as she reached up and threaded her fingers into Wyatt’s hair. She returned the kiss, parting her lips in an invitation Wyatt took. His tongue slipped into her mouth as he rolled her over, his body heavy over hers as if he suddenly didn’t have the strength to hold himself up, but it was okay. Tabitha held him as she let him take out all the heartache in a crushing, feral kiss that stole her breath far more effectively than his hard chest pressing her to the bed.

She used her hold on his hair to tilt his head and returned the kiss with the same desperate hunger for something to remember. The passion flared easily, making every brush of his skin against hers a dance of ecstasy. When he slipped a hand between their straining bodies, pushing it beneath her panties, he found her already wet and needy for him.

He groaned into her mouth and then pulled away to press his lips against the soft spot behind her ear. “Lemme hear you.”

She gasped, arching her hips into his hand in surrender, and whispered, “Okay.”

Tabitha could feel Wyatt watching her as he touched her, rubbing his fingers against her clit in a way that left her sweaty and moaning from the quick build of need. She didn’t even try to fight it. She just clutched at his large biceps and rode out the storm until the end crashed over her in a wild rush of bliss.

The electric surge of her climax left her pussy aching for more and her fingers tingling from the bone-melting rush of it. She was still shaking with it when she blinked up at Wyatt. His chest was heaving as he studied her face and then tilted his head to eye her body beneath his.

His fingers were still on her, and rather than slip them out from beneath her underwear, he pushed one into her and then a second, stroking her and making her head jerk back against the pillow. She knew he was intent on bringing her to a second orgasm while he watched, but she needed to be with him.

She tugged at the elastic to his boxer briefs, forcing them past his muscular ass until he was finally forced to help get rid of them. While he kicked them off, Tabitha fought to get herself naked too.

Their underwear ended up on the floor with the rest of their clothes, but she didn’t care. She just wrapped her legs around Wyatt and clutched at his shoulders when he shifted over her. Then his cock was stretching her, slow and steady, bringing them closer and closer until they were inseparable and untouchable for that one perfect moment.

Tabitha swallowed his moan when he kissed her again. He thrust the rest of the way in, claiming what had always been his. It wasn’t sweet. It was hard, strong, powerful, and it was perfect just how it was. She had always loved every side of Wyatt, the dark as well as the light, because Tabitha understood it was an all-or-nothing deal. The meek lived their lives devoid of these turbulent emotions that created rocky peaks and valleys. They carved out an amazing man, because Wyatt had never been meek. He was so much bigger than that, and Tabitha wouldn’t change him.

Even if it would’ve made things so much easier.

She just savored the climb to the top and tried to forget about the plunge to the bottom waiting on the other side. Now was theirs, and she wasn’t going to ruin it by thinking about tomorrow.

He broke the kiss to bury his face in her neck and started fucking her as if he needed to extinguish the flame of passion between them that never flickered, no matter how tumultuous the storm. It had always been a warm, steady glow in the night that beckoned them toward home. Like their love, it was a something that never died, but it wasn’t the first losing battle Wyatt fought.

He tried to take the last of the passion.

He failed.

He only fueled the fire.

Tabitha stiffened under him at the first surge of ecstasy, digging her nails into his shoulders as she surrendered to their destiny instead of fight it. She reveled in the sea of desire rather than try to drain it. She just wanted to enjoy it for as long as she could.

She pulled Wyatt down with her, and he grunted against her ear when he lost the war. She was so wrapped up in him, she could feel the ripple of bliss in the muscles of his back when they tensed under her fingers as he moved in her to the pulse of his release.

They were both breathing heavy and sweaty once it was over. Individually shattered, but still together. For now it was okay to lie there and just accept the loss.

Tomorrow was a new story.

Tabitha knew from hard-won experience the hardest part wasn’t enduring the storm, or accepting the end. It was finding a way to put the broken pieces together in the aftermath.

Part Nine

The Aftermath

In boxing you can create a strategy to beat each new opponent; it’s just like chess.

—Lennox Lewis

Chapter Thirty-Four

Wyatt looked at the DOJ card in his hand.

He tapped it against the aged wood, trying to get up the nerve to make a call he didn’t want to make. He tried to think rationally and consider his options, but none of them were great. He could step down as sheriff to save himself from the embarrassment of being fired.

But damn, he liked being sheriff.

Even on bad days, he liked it.

Willingly letting it go was going to be the second-hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. Losing Tabitha would always be the most difficult. He’d already done it once. He knew how fucking heart-wrenching it was. He breathed for her, but he thrived because of his job. Now he had to do both at the same time. What the hell would he have left to keep taking blood pressure medication for? He might as well just toss the bottle in the trash now and let the stress of a criminal trial kill him.

Jules had Romeo now. She had Nova and Tino too, and like Wyatt had observed at the hospital yesterday—his father had raised his sister strong.

Clay had Melody, and Wyatt knew the two of them would flourish easily without him.

There really was nothing left.

“For you.”

Wyatt looked down at the plate Tabitha put in front of him and grimaced. “What the hell is it?”

“It’s a broccoli-and-spinach egg-white omelet.” Tabitha sat down across him with another plate with the same beige-and-green creation. “At least try it.”

Wyatt picked up the orange Tabitha had garnished the dish with and put it in his mouth, giving her an orange-rind grin.

She giggled as she looked at him. “You’re silly.”

He snorted and took it out of his mouth. “Sometimes.”

Wyatt went ahead and picked up the fork on the plate and tried a bite. He raised his eyebrows after a moment and said, “It ain’t half-bad.”

“Ain’t half-bad at all,” Tabitha agreed as she took a bite too.

“You can officially make anything taste good,” Wyatt said as he stabbed at the omelet. “It’s one of your many talents.”

“You can thank my mother for that.” Tabitha laughed bitterly. “I’ve put some pretty creative ingredients together to make something palatable.”

“Your mother’s a bitch, Tabitha,” Wyatt declared as he took another bite, and it felt good to finally say it out loud after thinking it since he was eight years old. “I hate her.”

Tabitha was silent for a long moment before she nodded. “Yeah, she is.”

“You just spent forty thousand dollars restoring her house,” Wyatt reminded her.

“I did,” Tabitha agreed.

“And I ain’t even gonna ask what the medical bills cost,” Wyatt went on. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Tabitha shrugged. “I probably need to go to a support group for codependents and figure it out.”

Wyatt laughed. “Better late than never, I guess.”

“What’s one more support group, right?” Tabitha laughed with him. “I’m making a collection over here.”

“Do you have support groups in Key West?” Wyatt asked her seriously. “Have you been getting help with everything?”

“I have.” Tabitha gave him a wan smile. “I have a good network there.”

“Good.” Wyatt took a deep breath, taking comfort from that. “I want you to be okay. I want it more than anything.”

Tabitha seemed to consider that for a long moment, as if actually looking for a way to assure him she’d be okay if they broke up again. Then she looked back down at her breakfast and whispered, “Eat your omelet.”

Wyatt ate it rather than point out it could use salt. He noticed the shaker had disappeared off the table. Rather than irritate him, it made him smile as he stared at the lonely pepper now by itself. He couldn’t really complain about someone loving him enough to forgo salt and cheese on an omelet and appear to enjoy broccoli and spinach instead.

They were nearly done with breakfast when a knock sounded at the front door, and Wyatt frowned as he looked out of the kitchen. “It’s seven in the morning.”

“I can get it.” Tabitha pushed away from the table.

“No, I’ll get it.” Wyatt stood. “I’ll look for the saltshaker while I’m at it.”

Tabitha giggled again and announced, “Silly.”

Wyatt touched the top of her head affectionately when he took the long route around the table. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Wyatt pulled his phone out of his pocket as he walked to the door. He was looking for some sort of hint as to who it could be. Maybe someone had tried to call and hadn’t been able to get through. It had been snowing through the night, and it messed with his connection sometimes.

Garnet didn’t have the greatest cellular service.

No messages.

No texts.

Wyatt pulled back the curtain at the window next to the door. He found Nova Moretti tilting his head and looking at him, as if expecting the action.

Fantastic.

Wyatt opened the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Did you make the call yet?” Nova asked rather than answer his question.

“The call?”

“To the DOJ,” Nova clarified. “You didn’t do it last night after you left, did you?”

“Why do you care?”

“Did you make it or not?” Nova countered in a sharp voice.

“No. I was gonna do it after breakfast.”

“Okay.” Nova pulled his coat off and walked in without being invited. “So we’ll figure out your story over breakfast. I haven’t eaten yet.”

Wyatt just gaped at him. “You think I’m going over my story with you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Nothing personal.” Wyatt let out a laugh of disbelief. “But you’re not exactly the best person to go over a DOJ case with. This is my business. I can handle my own case.”

“No, it’s my business.” Nova gave him a pointed look. “Eluding federal investigators is one of my specialties. This is what I do, Conner. I make sure family doesn’t get caught. The money laundering is just the icing on the cake. I’m capo bastone for a reason, and today’s your lucky friggin’ day, because I’ve decided I’m gonna help you whether you want me to or not. The fee for it has been paid way in advance.”

Wyatt stood there in shock because he and Nova had come to an unspoken understanding when they’d first met that they wouldn’t talk about or even acknowledge what Nova did for a living.

Now he’d just blurted it out as if he’d never treaded lightly to begin with. It was one of the most bizarre things Wyatt had ever encountered.

“Your turn.” Nova gave him a smile, obviously knowing he’d shocked Wyatt speechless. “Time to spill it. I need all the gritty details. We can go somewhere else if you don’t want Tabitha to hear.”

“What’s a capo bastone?” Tabitha asked from the doorway to the kitchen.

“Mafia underboss,” Wyatt answered for her.

“Very good.” Nova’s smile widened. “Next you’ll tell me you know how to read and write too.”

“Screw you, Moretti.” Wyatt glared at him. “I ain’t stupid.”

Nova laughed. “You just said ‘ain’t.’”

“Oh my God; get the fuck out of my house.” Wyatt gestured to the door. “I appreciate the offer, but I got this, and I’m just going to pretend you didn’t say the rest.”

“Look at me, chipping at your morals one annoying rule at a time.” Nova sounded genuinely proud of himself. “We’re making good time. We could have you self-serving enough to pull this off before lunch.”

Wyatt just shook his head, because he’d been dealing with this family for almost a year now, and he knew they were loyal to a fault. “Is this for Jules?” he asked. “’Cause I think she’d disagree with this.”

“Her too,” Nova said cryptically and then gave Wyatt a hard look. “Look, Conner, if you’re in half as much trouble as I think you are, I’m your only chance at getting outta this. Is this guy you shot worth losing everything for?”

“No.” Wyatt’s stomach lurched at just the thought of Vaughn Davis being his downfall. “There ain’t even words for how much of a low-life motherfucker that asshole is.”

Nova held up his hands. “Then why not give me a shot?”

“And you think you know more ’bout the laws than I do? I was raised on the law.”

“The difference between us is they’re not laws to me. They’re loopholes,” Nova countered. “Here’s another secret for you. I’ve got a photographic memory. I have read a lot of law books in my life, and I remember all of them. If anyone can find you a loophole, it’s me.”

Wyatt was stunned speechless for the second time that morning. Anyone else, and he would call bullshit, but he had to admit Nova Moretti had an annoying tendency to know the answer to just about everything. He shouldn’t be nearly as surprised as he was. It was just such a remarkable thing to confess to.

“Is that true?” Tabitha sounded awed. “You remember everything you see?”

“Not just everything I see.” Nova turned to Tabitha with a genuinely warm smile rather than the sharp, cynical ones he gave Wyatt. “I remember everything. Period. I can fix this for you, Tabitha. Please let me.”

Tabitha looked to Wyatt, and he saw the small glimmer of hope in her gaze. She wanted to trust that the help was available. It was one of the things he loved about her. She could find hope even in her darkest hours. She believed in heroes and happy endings. Wyatt never wanted to see that rare light go out. She had managed to touch the whole world with it.

He would do anything to preserve that innocence in her…even align himself with Nova Moretti.

“Yeah, okay.” Wyatt spoke to Tabitha rather than Nova. “We might as well tell him and hear what he’s got to say.”

* * *

Nova’s scowl grew deeper the more Wyatt and Tabitha explained.

Tabitha watched the story turn his handsome face and easy smile into something dark and menacing. It was hard initially to believe the young man who had been so determined at the hospital to make sure his family was well cared for could also be involved in the mafia, but now she saw it.

She thought there was darkness in Wyatt, but it wasn’t born of the same sinister anger like Nova’s. He cursed in Italian when Tabitha told him about Vaughn drugging and raping her, but in the next breath he reached across the table and squeezed Tabitha’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he studied her, his dark gaze swirling with concern. “Is that why you moved to New York?”

“Yes. I didn’t want Wyatt to find out.” Tabitha didn’t break out of his hold, but she did frown at him. “How did you know I was in New York?”

“I read it in your bio.” Nova took a sip of tea, grimacing over it, but that was all they had to offer him. “You don’t have any coffee?”

“No, sorry.” Tabitha shook her head. “I threw it away.”

“Oh Jesus,” Wyatt said with a snort of laughter.

“I don’t have a detailed bio, Nova.” Tabitha continued to study him. There was just something about his face that she liked, even with the dangerous scowl. “I’m a very private author.”

“Did you have any money when you first got there? You said you were twenty-one when you left. That’d be ninety-nine. Your first book didn’t come out until almost three years later. What’d you do for cash back then?” Nova asked, as if it were pertinent to the story.

“I had a job at a bakery on Thirty-Seventh.”

“Rubio’s. I know that bakery.” Nova nodded. “They don’t pay very well. You must have been struggling financially.”

“Did we meet there?” Tabitha asked, because now that he had opened the floodgates about his memory, she could see how easily he could pull up random facts. “You asked me if I remembered you in the hospital.”

“Yeah, Tabitha, we’ve met before.” His smile turned warm once more. “But I can understand why you wouldn’t remember me.”

“Why?”

“I was twelve.”

“Oh, I guess you would’ve been. God, that makes me feel old.” Tabitha winced at Wyatt before she turned back to Nova, now beyond curious. “What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a grin. “Tell me the rest. What happened when you got back?”

They told him the rest of the story. After Wyatt had explained the details of the shooting, Nova just pushed his empty plate aside and dropped his head to the table. He folded his hands together behind his neck as if deep in thought.

“This is a huge friggin’ problem, Conner,” he mumbled against the wood. “There are a lot of loose ends there. If you hadn’t done what you did when you were younger, we could get you off on technicalities, but with that—”

“I know.” Wyatt shook his head. “I’m not just losing my job; I’m to going to jail. Vaughn had every right to fear for his safety. Pulling a gun on me was self-defense. I had very real motivation to kill him.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you shoot him a second time? Just kill him and then make the call to dispatch. It would’ve solved your problem. Dead men don’t tell tales. A sheriff’s word would’ve been more than good enough. Now you got him alive and likely to run his mouth.”

“That’s great advice now. Thanks,” Wyatt said sarcastically. “I know I should’ve killed him. I’ve thought ’bout it myself, but at the time I was in cop mode. Maybe when I was younger, I would’ve done it, but I’ve been sheriff for a long time. It’s sorta ingrained.”

“Friggin’ hick integrity.” Nova was still speaking with his face pressed against the table. “You said there was a witness to the first incident. What’s his name?”

“Jason Wiltkins.”

“And Tabitha’s brother, Brett. He’s the only other person who knows about it?”

“Clay knows. Jules knows.”

“Okay.” Nova lifted his head and rubbed a hand over his face. “I really wish you had coffee. I got a headache.”

“Sorry,” Tabitha whispered, feeling guilty now that she’d thrown it away. She probably should’ve thought to keep some for company.

Nova pushed away from the table and stood. He paced and said something in Italian, as if speaking to himself.

“What’s that?” Wyatt leaned forward with a scowl. “You said Tino’s name in there? Did you tell him I was in trouble?”

“You think the DOJ can walk into the hospital and ask to speak with you, and it wouldn’t set off every paranoid sensor Tino has? He started hounding me for information the second we were alone. He knows you’re in trouble. They all do to an extent.”

“No one’s told Jules, have they?” Wyatt asked in horror.

“No, Jules and Romeo don’t know anything.” Nova shook his head. “They got enough to deal with right now.”

Wyatt sighed, looking appeased. “So that’s it. The loophole man doesn’t have an answer. I might as well just make the call and face the music.”

“I didn’t say that,” Nova argued. “It’s just more complicated than I anticipated.”

“More complicated?” Wyatt repeated in disbelief. “I’m fucked, Moretti. I know that. There’s no solution for this problem. I knew it when I let you sit at this table and start asking questions.”

“There’s always a solution.” Nova arched an eyebrow at him. “It’s just way outside your moral compass. I was hoping to avoid that.”

“No,” Wyatt growled. “No fucking way. I give your brother shit all the time about this mafia crap, and now you think I’m gonna go along with you killing someone in cold blood—”

“He raped your wife, Conner.” Nova’s scowl became dangerous once more. “Get over your ethical bullshit.”

“Get the fuck out of my house.” Wyatt pointed to the door.

“I’m not gonna shoot him,” Nova said rather than leave. “That’s not my style. Very sloppy. We don’t need this prick dead. We just need to make sure he doesn’t talk to the DOJ.”

“So what?” Wyatt let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse?”

Nova quirked an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything.

“Look, he’s an addict. He’s unstable,” Wyatt went on. “It’s not going to work, and getting yourself involved with this will just make things difficult for you and my sister. I can deal with the consequences of my actions. I want you to forget we had this conversation.”

“Yeah, but see—” Nova held up his hands and gave Wyatt a bitter smile. “I don’t forget things, and right now the only real issue is the statement you’re going to make to the DOJ. You’ve got a fuckload of loose ends, so let’s go over them.”

“Moretti—”

“What do you have to lose by having a foolproof statement? We’ll forget about the rest of it until later. Let’s just worry about your story.” Nova rubbed at the back of his neck again. “You were on the way to your sister’s house. She was in labor. You picked up Clay on the way. You took Harkin road rather than—”

“That’s way out of the way,” Wyatt argued.

“It doesn’t matter. So you went outta the way. You took the time to drive by the bar to make sure there were no drunk assholes out on the road. It was three o’clock. Last call. You were just double-checking to make sure your town was safe.”

“While my sister was bleeding out?” Wyatt arched an eyebrow at him. “No one’s gonna buy that.”

“She wasn’t in distress yet. She just had some pains, and you wanted to be there in case they needed to get to the hospital.”

Wyatt picked the DOJ card up off the table and tapped it against the wood as if considering it. “I guess that would make sense. I’ve been after drunk drivers for a few years now. Everyone knows it.”

“Perfect.” Nova looked pleased with that development. “You saw him swerving. You made the traffic stop. He pulled a gun. You shot him. That’s it. That’s what happened, Conner.”

“But that’s not what happened. He wasn’t swerving.”

“Yes, he was.” Nova raised his eyebrows. “He was all over the road. You had an obligation to pull him over. I saw his numbers while I was in the ICU. He was above the legal limit.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“Just hanging out at the nurses’ station.”

Wyatt grunted in shock. “You hit on the nurses to get his blood alcohol limits?”

“You highly underestimate me.” Nova pulled back at the insult. “He’s in ICU. Jules is too. So I spent a few hours talking to a couple of the nurses until I saw the numbers on the screen. I didn’t have to ask. That’s a loose end. We don’t like loose ends. Now tell me your story again.”

Tabitha looked to Wyatt, who seemed to be debating with himself before he shrugged as if he had nothing to lose. “I was on the way to my sister’s. I picked up my friend Clay.”

“Why’d you pick him up at three in the morning?” Nova barked, sounding like an investigator.

“He’s lived with us since me and Jules’s were teenagers. He’s like another brother to her. She wanted him there.”

“Okay, then why did you go by the bar?”

Wyatt flipped the card over in his hand, staring at it before he said, “I dunno; habit, I guess. It was on the way.”

“Not really,” Nova argued, his words still sharp as if he was looking for a lie. “It’s way outta the way.”

“Ever since I found that Johnson kid dead, I always drive by the bar if I can. I had time. She was just feeling a few pains.”

“Then why make the trip at all?”

“My brother-in-law’s been so stressed out. My sister’s been on bed rest. Clay and me figured we could give him a break if she had him up at three in the morning. Keep her company for a little while if it was just that false labor she’d been having for the past month.”

“And what happened then?”

“I stopped and took a few minutes to wait for the last of the patrons to leave the bar.”

“You weren’t on duty, Sheriff Conner. Why would you do that with your friend in your vehicle?”

Wyatt threw up his hands. “I probably shouldn’t have, but the truth is, I’m always on duty. This is my town. I never stop being sheriff.”

“Good.” Nova nodded, clearly pleased with that. “And when you saw Mr. Davis swerving and pulled him over, why didn’t you call in the stop?”

“I dunno.” Wyatt shook his head at that, clearly stumped on the question. “It should’ve been called in.”

“Your radio’s on the fritz. You tried, but it cut out, and you made the decision to make the stop anyway.”

“But my radio isn’t on the fritz,” Wyatt countered.

“It is when I get done with it. Now how long’s your radio been on the fritz?”

Wyatt seemed to think about the answer before he looked to Nova and offered, “I just noticed it Monday. I planned on getting it replaced when I went back to work on Thursday.”

“But you made the call to dispatch on the way to meet your sister at the hospital. How is that?”

“I don’t know.” Wyatt threw up his hands again. “I have no idea how I did that if it’s supposedly on the fritz.”

“It goes in and out.”

“It does?”

“Yes, it does.” Nova gave him another annoyed look before he started in again, “Why didn’t you take your police-issue weapon on the stop, Sheriff?”

Wyatt frowned again. “I dunno that either.”

“You’re a paranoid redneck, Conner. You have a concealed-weapons license, and you always pack heat when you’re off duty. You already had the .45 on you, and you were in a hurry. You left the 9 mm in the glove compartment. Clay didn’t know it was there, and he’s your best friend. You didn’t think about it too much.”

“I was packing a .45 on the way to see my laboring sister?” Wyatt laughed. “Have you seen a .45, Moretti? It ain’t exactly a casual weapon.”

“You love guns. Romeo told me you have a whole friggin’ gun safe full of them. They are one of the rare joys in your life, and your .45 is your favorite weapon. Keeping it on your person gets you off.”

“It was my favorite weapon.” Wyatt winced. “It was painful handing it over to Adam.”

“Why didn’t you take your police-issue weapon on the stop?” Nova asked again.

“I was in a hurry. I already had the .45 in the back of my jeans.”

“That’s a pretty big weapon to conceal in the back of your jeans.”

“I ain’t exactly a lightweight. I can hide a .45, and it’s my favorite weapon. I didn’t think anything ’bout it. I wasn’t expecting to shoot Mr. Davis. That was the last thing in the world I wanted. I was just trying to get a drunk off the road and get to my sister.”

“You’re getting good at this.” Nova smiled proudly. “I almost believed you. The key to this is to stay as close to the truth as possible. Don’t add anything. Just answer their questions in a calm, rational manner, because you have nothing to hide. You didn’t do anything wrong. He shot at you. You pulled your weapon and fired before you even realized you’d done it.”

“That ain’t a lie.” Wyatt sounded surprised. “How’d you know that?”

“’Cause if you’d planned on killing him, you could have, and no one would’ve questioned you about it. Not doing it has made your life a hell of a lot more difficult, but you have a strong moral code. You’d rather deal with the extra paperwork when that drunk starts screaming about you having a personal vendetta against him. All the drunks in your town think that because you’re a good sheriff and you do your job well.”

Tabitha smiled after his speech. Having spent most of the conversation just observing the exchange, she couldn’t help but say, “That’s all true.”

“I know.” Nova rolled his eyes in disgust. “Let’s start over from the top again. We’re gonna do this until you got it without hesitating.”

* * *

Tabitha sat at the table after Wyatt and Nova went outside to do whatever they were going to do to his police radio. She picked up the Department of Justice card Wyatt had left behind.

She stared at it, looking at the name and knowing this man held her whole world in his hands. He had seemed friendly enough at the hospital, when he thought he was just going to question a sheriff about a routine shooting, but what happened when Vaughn opened his mouth and started making claims that would force those nice investigators to dig into things that would ruin Wyatt?

How could someone be a dedicated public servant and a villain at the same time? It was strange. Though her family had always hated the law, Tabitha had unfailing faith in it. She believed in it as much as Wyatt did.

Now he was going to have to lie to save himself, something that went against everything that made Wyatt who he was. The black and white of good and evil continued to get more complicated the older they got. Tabitha had always believed that, and this was about as complex as it could get.

Somehow, the good guys were the bad guys now, and the bad guys—

Tabitha looked out the kitchen window, hearing Nova’s voice drift in from outside. His New York accent was extra thick before he cursed in Italian over whatever he was doing to the radio. She hoped the neighbors didn’t see, but she knew the back part of the driveway where Wyatt parked his SUV was hidden from prying eyes.

Nova wasn’t one to let something like that go. He was amazingly smart. It was a shame he had to be involved with the mafia. It made Tabitha sad, even if those skills he’d honed protecting his own were now benefiting her and Wyatt.

She closed her eyes, trying to imagine him at twelve.

Smart, sarcastic, with a strange loyalty that allowed him to break the rules to protect his family. He seemed so much older than twenty-five, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. She imagined he’d been the same at twelve as well.

Wyatt was pure hero, all light, with a sliver of darkness for the one person who’d been born to be his kryptonite, but Nova was the opposite, all darkness with a sliver of light. She tried to imagine the birth of the original antihero. Life made everyone who they were. Tabitha had seen it time and again. So what could have happened to turn someone so smart, with so much potential, into a person who could so flippantly talk about killing a man he didn’t know just because of a remote connection to his family?

Just like that the image popped in her head.

She saw a boy sitting on a stool in a bar waiting to play poker when he should have been out playing football instead. Feeling like Nova’s memory had rubbed off on her secondhand, she heard the bartender’s voice from the past.

“Lady, you don’t even know. Trouble is Nova Moretti’s middle name.”

She looked out the window as the tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her face. For a moment, she wished she didn’t remember. She wanted that boy to stay young in her mind. To stay hopeful. To keep on believing the solution was as easy as the next poker game. Even with a photographic memory, he’d obviously had the same innocence all children had before the cruel realities of life stole it from him.

Now it was gone.

How tragic.

Tabitha looked up when Nova came walking in through the back door with his hands dirty. She stared at his broad back as he went to the kitchen sink and started washing up.

“She died,” Tabitha whispered.

Nova turned around, frowning at her. “What?”

“Your mother.” Her voice cracked with emotion as she looked at him and saw that young boy for the first time. “She didn’t make it.”

Nova paused, giving her a long look as the water still ran in the sink. Then he turned around and shut it off. He stood with his back to her for a long time before he said, “No, she didn’t.”

“I’m so sorry.” She looked at the card in her hand again, hating that she and Wyatt were going to benefit from Nova’s pain. “Life is very unfair, Nova. I wish I could change it for you.”

“I wish you could too.” Nova turned around and folded his arms over his chest as he looked at her. “My ma had a kind heart. She loved everyone, even the people she shouldn’t.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked him softly. “Wyatt thinks it’s for Jules, but—”

Nova shrugged. “I have so many things shoved inside my head. Most of it’s useless. It just makes me tired, but every once in a while something happens that makes me glad I can remember it. You were a good memory. That’s it.”

“All this for a good memory? For something that happened so long ago?” She couldn’t help but laugh past her tears. “That’s a lot to risk.”

“I don’t have that many good memories, Tabitha,” Nova whispered with a shake of his head. “So I protect the good ones, even if I gotta make a fuckload of bad ones in the process. Most people don’t get it.”

“I get it.” Tabitha looked out the window, thinking of Wyatt again. “I get it perfectly.”

“Yeah, I thought you might.” Nova sighed, looking at her sadly. “That’s too bad. Getting it means you haven’t had that many good ones either, and I’m genuinely sorry about that. You’re one of the few people in this world who deserves good memories.”

“I’ve had a few.” She smiled, her thoughts still on Wyatt.

Nova shook his head as he laughed. “I like you, Tabitha. You’re cool.”

“I like you too,” she said as she turned back to him. “I know Wyatt won’t say it, but thank you for helping us.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Nova looked away, as though he was uncomfortable with the gratitude. “I’m killing two birds with this stone. I owed Conner a favor too.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

“We should have you off administrative leave in another three or four days.”

Wyatt nodded as he looked at the two investigators sitting on the other side of his desk in the sheriff’s office. “That works.”

“We’re rushing the paperwork. We already got a statement from Mr. Davis. It all looks good. Thanksgiving’s holding it up a little, but you’ll be back to work a day or two after.”

“Nice of you to rush the paperwork. I appreciate it.” Wyatt reached over and moved some files to the corner of his desk that he hadn’t sat behind for almost a week.

“Well, we understand it’s a difficult situation with you being sheriff and all. It was a justified shooting. We need to get ya back to work. I mean, who the hell’s running the place, right?”

Wyatt looked out his office window, seeing that Adam was doing a very poor job of pretending to work as he cast furtive glances in their direction. “I think Deputy Hayes has being doing a good job. Maybe he’ll be sheriff one day.”

“Planning on stepping down?”

Wyatt laughed and raised his eyebrows when he considered how close he came to doing just that. “Nah, I think I got a few more good years in me.”

“Hayes said you’re a sixth-generation sheriff. That’s something.”

“Yeah.” Wyatt nodded as he looked back, seeing the pictures of his father and grandfather on the bookshelf, along with three other men he’d never known, but shared the same name and title with. “It’s something, all right.”

“Maybe one day soon you’ll make a seventh generation.”

“Maybe.” Wyatt smiled, thinking of his sister’s new sons and how his and Jules’s lives tended to mirror each other whether they wanted them to or not. “It’s entirely possible.”

Both of the investigators stood, and Wyatt pushed back from the desk and then shook both their hands. The one who had been concerned over Jules when they were back in the hospital reached out and patted Wyatt’s back. “Enjoy the last few days of leave and spend time with your new nephews.”

“I will, thanks.” Wyatt walked to his office door and opened it. “They’re coming home with my sister from the hospital tonight so they’ll be settled for Thanksgiving. It’s good.”

“Great news. Sorry that boy had to go and make an already stressful situation worse. Bad timing, but I’m glad it’s all working out okay.”

“Me too.” Wyatt had to stop himself from laughing in disbelief at how easy this was. “I’ll walk y’all out.”

Wyatt walked the investigators out and then went back to his office. He sat down at the desk he wasn’t supposed to be at until he was cleared for duty again. Any shooting, justified or not, earned a cop paid administrative leave until the investigation was finished.

Shooting Vaughn Davis should’ve ruined his life.

Instead it earned him a vacation.

He touched his desk, wondering what in the hell Nova Moretti said to Vaughn to make him so agreeable. Wyatt was sure he didn’t want to know. He’d asked, of course, when he found out Vaughn wasn’t pressing charges, because there was no way he believed that asshole came to that decision all on his own.

But Nova had looked him in the face and flat-out denied it.

Anyone who could teach Wyatt to lie in one afternoon, when he’d been terrible at it his entire life, was good at sticking to his story. No matter how many questions Wyatt barked at him, Nova just stared at him, unflinching, and denied any involvement besides helping him keep his story straight.

Nova was very good at what he did.

But he wasn’t a bad person. He was actually a really good person life put in a bad situation. It seemed very unfair that Wyatt’s mistakes were staining Nova Moretti’s soul worse than it already was.

He was still contemplating it when Adam walked in and shut the door louder than necessary. The thump of something falling off the bookshelf had Wyatt glancing back, but then Adam spoke.

“Did they tell ya when you’re coming back?”

“Few more days.” Wyatt turned back to Adam. “Sorry this stuck ya with so much extra work.”

“I’m just glad it’s all getting done.” Adam fell down into the one of the seats the investigators vacated. “How come you didn’t say anything ’bout your radio being broke that Monday?”

Wyatt gave him a hard look. “You’re part of the investigation, Adam. You’re not supposed to be talking ’bout it with me.”

“Shoot, Sheriff.” Adam shook his head. “It was a justified shooting. That boy is completely strung out. We’ve known it for a long time now. Why do you have to be so technical with everything?”

“I guess it’s just bred in me.” Wyatt stood up and grabbed his jacket off the coat hanger in the corner. “I’m gonna go home to my wife and enjoy the last of my paid leave.”

“Sounds good.” Adam nodded. “We got it here. Have a good holiday.”

Wyatt put on his jacket, noting the picture on the floor. He walked over and picked it up, finding his father’s face looking back at him. It should’ve felt ominous. Like a warning or a reprimand for the mistakes he’d made.

Instead, he stared at it and felt something very different. This was a man who’d spent most of his life without a partner, pining for the one he’d lost. For so long now Wyatt thought he’d inherited more than his father’s high blood pressure. He’d followed in his footsteps for a lot of years.

Now he had a second chance.

He put the picture back on the bookshelf, letting go of his father’s legacy of loneliness. Life had taught Wyatt nothing if not the value of making sacrifices worth it.

He decided he owed it to Nova to let it all go.

“I guess I’ll wish you Happy Thanksgiving a day early.” Wyatt patted Adam’s shoulder. “Sorry you’re stuck working it this year.”

“You’ve worked it every year for the past six years. I can take a turn.”

“Well, I surely appreciate it.” Wyatt opened his office door once more. “Tell Kesha thank you.”

“Say hi to Jules for us. Tell her we wanna see those babies as soon as she’s up and moving.” Adam walked with him to the front doors of the sheriff’s office. “And say hi to Tabitha too. You know, Sheriff, I reckoned I ain’t ever told you congratulations ’bout that. That was something. Her coming back. All these years I’ve been working here, I didn’t even know you were married.”

Wyatt snorted. “Don’t take it personal. Most folks didn’t.”

“Why’d she leave?” Adam winced as he said it. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I made a mistake. I let her go.” Wyatt held up his hands and gave him a sad smile. “Now I reckon I got the rest of our lives to make it up to her. It’s more than other Conners got.”

“You got three more days of paid leave.” Adam gestured to Wyatt’s SUV in the parking lot. “Best get started.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that.” Wyatt left Adam standing in the sheriff’s office. “See ya after the holiday.”

* * *

“He just left. For no dang reason. Just packed up and left. Good-for-nothing bastard. After all I’ve done for him.”

Tabitha arched her eyebrow as she sat at the kitchen table in the old Conner house and listened to her mother sob. The old Tabitha would’ve felt bad to hear her mother so distraught. The new Tabitha just pointed out, “I doubt you were crying like this when I packed up and left.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t like us,” she growled. “You never understood me like he did.”

“No, Mama, I didn’t,” Tabitha agreed. “Not at all.”

“Now I’m all alone. I got no one.” She let out a sob of misery. “Ain’t ya at least coming over for Thanksgiving?”

“No, I’m not. I’m going to Jules’s house for Thanksgiving.”

“I can’t believe you went and married into that family.” Her mother’s voice was slurred with drunken indignation despite the recent heart surgery Tabitha had paid for. “Those Conners think they’re better than everyone. You think you’re better than everyone too, but I don’t need you or your money. I can be alone. I don’t need anyone.”

“I have to go now.” Tabitha looked up when Wyatt walked in through the back door. “I have things to do.”

“What things?”

“Important things.”

“And I suppose I ain’t important?”

“No, you’re not,” Tabitha said as she looked at Wyatt, who stood in the kitchen pulling off his coat. “I have a life now, Mama, and it doesn’t include you anymore. I’m spending Thanksgiving with my real family.”

Her mother huffed on the other line. “Well, I don’t need you either.”

Tabitha flinched when her mother hung up. She looked at her cell phone until the screen went dark. Then she set it down, surprised at just how little she felt over the entire exchange. Which, she was pretty sure, meant she was getting better.

She knew it wasn’t the last time she was going to talk to her mother.

But it was the last time she was going to let herself be hurt and controlled by her. If her mama died alone, Tabitha supposed that was her own fault, because she wasn’t sacrificing herself for that woman anymore.

“That was awesome, Tab,” Wyatt said with a laugh of disbelief. “I think that just made my life. What was wrong with her, anyhow?”

“Brett left.” Tabitha lifted her head and gave Wyatt a smile. “He just packed up and left town. Left the whole dang state. He told her he was moving to California.”

“That’s—” Wyatt started as he raised his eyebrows. “Not really all that shocking. I’m pretty sure we know who to thank for that.”

“Yeah.” Tabitha smiled as she glanced to her laptop, staring at the book she was working on. “How’d the last of the questioning go?”

Wyatt held up his hands. “Looks like I’m back to work after the holiday.”

Tabitha looked at her phone again, shocked at what this all meant.

“Are we okay?” she asked in awe. “Are we actually gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I think we actually are.” Wyatt sounded dazed over it too. “I mean, Vaughn is looking at thirty years easy. Shooting at a sheriff. He was over the legal limit, and he had crack cocaine in his system while he was on probation. That boy will die in prison for sure.”

“What did Nova say to him to make that the better option?” Tabitha asked in amazement. “What did he say to my brother? He was living for free in that house. Now he’s gonna go off to California? He might have to get an actual job. I can’t even imagine him doing that.”

“Tab—” Wyatt shook his head. “I don’t think either of us are ever gonna find out what Nova said to them, and maybe it’s better that we don’t.”

“Yeah?” Tabitha was surprised. Wyatt wasn’t one to let things go. “How come?”

“’Cause I think, whatever it is he did, it bought me a happy ending with my girl.” Wyatt smiled. “And I really wanted one.”

Tabitha pushed away from the table and stood. Wyatt met her halfway and wrapped his arms around her. He laid his cheek against the top of her head and whispered, “I love you, Tabby Cat.”

She hugged him back and whispered, “I love you too.”

* * *

Three weeks after Vaughn Davis was released on bail pending his trial, he was found dead in his trailer. Wyatt had to apologize to Adam for being the one forced to go on the call. Wyatt couldn’t do it. He still had too much of a conflict of interest, or he would have. Finding a body eight days gone was never a pleasant experience for a cop. He tried to spare his deputies as much as he could, but this one was out of his hands.

Wyatt expected a gunshot wound.

What they got was a heroin overdose. Vaughn had been a known addict for most of his life. No one questioned it—except Wyatt.

He questioned it again when Tabitha’s brother turned up dead six months later of a similar overdose.

Nova hadn’t been in Garnet when Vaughn died.

He hadn’t been in California when Brett died.

Yet Wyatt knew he’d been the one to pull the trigger.

A nice, neat trigger without any loose ends, but a trigger nonetheless.

Wyatt let it go rather than investigate it.

Tabitha told him the story about the hundred-dollar bill she’d given Nova in the bar when he was twelve.

It was a lot of money to her at the time.

But it was still a pretty good price for a happy ending.

Part Ten

Happy Endings

If you love life, don’t waste time, for time is what life is made up of.

—Bruce Lee

Chapter Thirty-Six

One Year Later

Christmas Eve 2013

Tabitha pulled the string-bean casserole out of the oven and set it there.

Then she knelt down to check on the ham.

“Don’t burn it,” Wyatt said as he came in from the outside with snow in his hair and dusting the shoulders of his sheriff’s jacket. “Last year all they had over there was fish and scallops and a whole host of other weird things I ain’t never heard of before. Just no, that ain’t right. Folks are supposed to eat ham on Christmas.”

“Feast of the Seven Fishes is an Italian tradition on Christmas Eve,” Tabitha argued. “It’s important to them. It reminds them of their mother.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m not eating octopus salad for Christmas Eve this year. I want ham.”

“You shouldn’t be eating ham at all.”

“I ain’t even on the blood pressure medication anymore.” Wyatt held up his hands. “Doc Philips says he’s gonna have you write up a diet for his other patients. That’s what a vast improvement you policing my diet has made. Once a year won’t kill me.”

Tabitha closed the oven and smiled at him. “Fifteen more minutes. Melody’s making turkey and stuffing. It won’t be just seafood this year.”

“Merry Christmas to me.” Wyatt seemed very pleased over the development as he walked over and kissed her. He put a hand on her rounded stomach and waggled his eyebrows. “Fifteen minutes, huh?”

She giggled. “I need a shower. I’ve been cooking all day.”

“You didn’t overdo it?” Wyatt frowned in concern as he wrapped an arm around her and rubbed at the small of her back. “I wish I could cook so you didn’t have to do all this.”

“That would be a dispatch call just waiting to happen.” Tabitha laughed. “You’d burn this place down for sure, and considering the amount of money we spent on restoring this year, I’d rather you didn’t.”

“How ’bout I wash your back?” Wyatt placed a kiss against her forehead. “Make it up to you.”

“That sounds like more than fifteen minutes.”

“Nah, a lot can happen in fifteen minutes.” Wyatt pulled back and tugged off his jacket as he headed toward the living room. “Come on, Tabby Cat. I got something to make up to my girl.”

Tabitha giggled again and reached over to turn down the temperature on the oven, because showers with Wyatt always lasted more than fifteen minutes. She took the time to cover the green beans with foil so they wouldn’t get cold.

Then she started working the buttons to her blouse as she followed Wyatt up the stairs. She walked past Wyatt’s old room as she headed down the hallway and pushed open the door to the master bedroom instead. Steam was already coming out from beneath the door to the bathroom. She pulled her maternity top off and walked over to lay it over the chair at her desk that faced the balcony doors.

The room was beautiful. They had spared no expense to make it exactly what they wanted. They didn’t live an overly extravagant lifestyle despite being able to afford it, but they were indulgent with the bedroom when they’d remodeled.

When Tabitha had gotten pregnant, Wyatt and Jules made the decision together that it was time to clear out the ghosts and make room for a new generation of Conners. They had worked together at packing their father’s old things, which was an emotional day for both of them. Jules took half of the pictures and furnishings to her house. The rest remained.

Big Fred’s old dresser held Wyatt’s clothes now. The picture of his wife that Fred used to talk to every night was resting on top of it. Right next to the spot where Wyatt tossed his badge, wallet, and car keys every time he got home and stripped out of his uniform.

Other things were different, like the massive flat-screen television that hung on the wall facing the bed. It made Wyatt happy for all sorts of man reasons Tabitha didn’t understand. He’d alternate between watching Bruce Lee movies on quiet nights, to throwing his rice cakes and shouting at it when a fight was on.

Usually Tabitha just sat next to him writing on her laptop. They had a big canopy bed that was comfortable and romantic with the curtains hanging down the sides and could be drawn to hide them from the world. Which wasn’t really necessary with just the two of them in the house, but it fed Tabitha’s creative soul.

She loved that bed.

The walls were decorated with old pictures and framed sheriff stars from all the other Conners. It gave the room an old-world charm that Tabitha liked very much. It matched with the movie poster on the wall next to the bathroom that also had a sheriff star on it, along with the attractive, fresh faces of the young actors and actresses who had been cast to play the characters from the first Heroes of Sapphire County movie.

The second one was already in post-production.

That movie had made so much money. Too much money. With the merchandising rights and Nova negotiating all of Tabitha’s contracts, she had started giving it away by the millions. It was just too much. It started to feel like a waste just sitting in bank accounts gathering zeroes. Even with the massive generosity that had started earning Tabitha humanitarian awards she didn’t want, she couldn’t seem to give it away as quickly as it kept gathering. Nova managed her finances too, and she was starting to suspect it was a game to him to see if he could earn her more than she handed out.

Money came so easily to him. She didn’t understand why he couldn’t just walk away from the rest of it. She and Wyatt talked about it a lot. They were hoping for a day when they got to pay him back for everything.

But it hadn’t come yet.

“Are you coming or not?” Wyatt called from the bathroom. “I thought the clock was ticking.”

Tabitha stripped off the rest of the clothes, taking care with them before she walked naked into the bathroom. They had a massive Jacuzzi tub off to one side. One they could both fit in, but Wyatt was in the shower in the corner. The outline of his tall, muscular body was visible through the frosted glass. She studied him and reeled over how lucky she had gotten.

Happy endings like this were worth walking through the miles of hell it took to get here.

Wyatt opened the shower door, his eyebrows raised when he eyed her standing there naked. His gaze ran over her for one hot moment before he whispered, “Come here, pretty girl.”

“Huge girl,” she said as she stepped into the shower.

“I think you look sexy.” Wyatt wrapped his arms around her from behind and caressed her naked stomach affectionately. His hands moved up to her breasts. “We should do this again and again. It makes ’em bigger.”

Tabitha’s entire body shook with mirth. “You’re so silly.”

“What?” Wyatt laughed with her as he leaned down and placed a kiss against the curve of her neck. “I’m not allowed to think my pregnant wife is sexy?”

“No, you’re not.” She was still laughing. “It makes you a weirdo.”

“Well, then I’m a weirdo.” He kept kissing her neck, his wet hair dripping onto her shoulder. “I wanna put my mouth on you. I wanna taste you. Then I wanna fuck you.”

“All in fifteen minutes?”

“I can be very efficient when I want to be.” Wyatt slipped one hand between her legs and touched her. “Let’s wash up, and then I’m gonna toss you on that bed and make love to you until we’re both walking funny.”

“I’m already walking funny.”

Wyatt continued to touch her, making it obvious he was forgetting the washing-up part of his plan. Tabitha tossed her head back against his shoulder, relishing the feel of his fingers circling her clit and his lips against the curve of her neck. The pleasure crashed over her easily, and she savored it, letting it come hard and fast.

Small, gasping sounds of bliss burst out of her when she stiffened in his arms. Wyatt tightened his other arm around her protectively as she quivered from the rush of ecstasy.

Tabitha was still panting when she leaned forward and rested her arms on the shower wall. She didn’t feel any of the old fear when Wyatt pressed against her, his hard cock sliding against her back insistently. That anxiety had died with Vaughn. She knew it was Wyatt pushing her hair aside to kiss and nip at her shoulder. It was his strong arms around her. It was his slick, muscled chest against the line of her bare shoulders.

“Why don’t we skip the bed?” she suggested. “And take our time after we get back from Jules’s place?”

“I dunno.” Wyatt rubbed her stomach softly. “I think we’re getting a little too far along to do it standing up in the shower.”

“You won’t let me fall.” She believed it with every fiber of her being. “I’m safe.”

“Yeah?” He nipped at her ear. “You wanna be naughty with me, Tabby Cat?”

“Yeah, let’s be naughty,” she agreed, feeling the smile tug at her lips too. “Do it before your ham burns.”

“Can’t have that.” Wyatt chuckled.

Tabitha put her foot up on the tiled bench in the shower and leaned over more. Wyatt ran his lips over her nape, still holding her tight and keeping her steady on her feet.

She moaned when he pushed in. Her body was already so sensitive from the first orgasm that the feel of his hard cock sliding in her, stretching her, set off every sensual sensor she had. She dropped her head, just letting herself feel Wyatt in her. She loved connecting with him. It never got old. The passion just wouldn’t die, and she knew it was the same for Wyatt as he let out a low, purely masculine grunt of pleasure.

“God, I love you.” His voice was breathless against her ear. “You feel so fucking good.”

“You too,” she gasped and then reached down and touched herself, hoping to speed things along.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned and nipped at her shoulder, harder this time as he started to lose the tight hold on his restraint. “It turns me on when you do that. You’re hot as hell, Tabby Cat. I’m gonna quit my job and just love you all day. Every day.”

She giggled despite the pleasure. “Liar.”

“No, really.” He pulled out and pushed into her again. “I could do it.”

No, he couldn’t. He loved his job, but she went ahead and played along with it. Touching herself, letting him fuck her, agreeing with his claims that he was going to turn in his badge and exist solely for her pleasure. It was a fun fantasy. She couldn’t get better love-slave material than Wyatt Conner.

Anyone with eyes could see he was one fine-looking piece of sheriff.

They stiffened together the second time. Wyatt moved in her harder, faster, dragging out Tabitha’s pleasure until she was sagging against the tiles and weak when the bliss started to fan out to tiny shivers that danced over her skin.

Wyatt stayed in her once it started to pass. His thick, steely arms tight around her, his cock still inside her as they enjoyed just being joined for a moment longer.

“I love you, Wy,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you got Christmas Eve off.”

“Me too.” He kissed the curve of her neck once more. “And we got time tonight. I ain’t got to be into work until two o’clock tomorrow. We’ll sleep in.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I reckoned we ought to enjoy it.” He ran a hand over her stomach once more. “Might be the last Christmas morning we get to sleep in.”

Tabitha’s smile was wide and excited. The idea of children waking them up on Christmas morning was enough to make her feel like the world had never done anything cruel to her to begin with. Both she and Wyatt loved children. They wanted more than one, and Tabitha had been blessed with such a perfect pregnancy. It was just one of the many things that happened this past year that left her firmly believing the dark cloud she had lived under for so long was gone forever.

“We should definitely do this again,” she whispered more to herself than Wyatt.

“What?” Wyatt laughed behind her. “The sex or the baby making?”

Tabitha laughed with him. “Both.”

* * *

Tino jerked open the door and threw up his hands. “Buon Natale!”

Wyatt grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

“Big Mama.” Tino grabbed Tabitha and kissed both her cheeks and then rubbed her stomach. “Look at this New Year’s baby!”

“Boy, you’ve been drinking too much eggnog.” Wyatt kicked Tino’s shin. “Get your hands off my wife.”

“Jealous?” Tino waggled his eyebrows.

“Are you gonna move before I drop this ham?”

Tino frowned. “You can’t eat ham on Christmas Eve.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes as he pushed past him and walked into the living room of Jules’s house that was lavishly decorated for the holidays. Unlike his house, that was very old-fashioned with wood flooring and patterned wallpapers, Jules’s was modern, with leather furniture, expensive carpet, and track lighting.

It fit Jules and Romeo perfectly.

The Christmas tree was up on a large wooden stand and surrounded by a baby gate. Romeo had to put the gate up when he caught Charlie standing on Freddy’s back, trying to pull the whole damn thing down. Jules more than anyone should have known to never underestimate the determination of twins working together to get a job done.

Wyatt started sweating over it the moment Tabitha got pregnant, because it’d just be his luck to get a set too, but it was just one—for now.

“Ham.” Jules sounded pleased when Wyatt walked into the kitchen that was really too big to be normal. Romeo liked to cook, and he’d dumped an insane amount of money into it. She shifted Charlie to her other hip and leaned over to kiss Wyatt’s cheek. “Tell Tabitha I love her.”

“I heard that,” Romeo called from the stove.

“Not that we don’t love the sea creatures.” Jules held up a hand to Romeo as she gave Wyatt a wide-eyed look that said she felt the same about the Feast of Seven Fishes as he did. “He made lobster this year instead of the octopus salad.”

Wyatt nodded. “Lobster ain’t bad. Melody’s bringing turkey.”

“I heard.” Jules peeled back the foil on the ham before she turned and handed Charlie over. “Go see Uncle Wy Wy.”

He took his nephew, who grinned, showing off two white teeth on the bottom. The twins were fraternal, but they looked almost identical. The only difference was Charlie’s eyes were more blue than Freddy’s that had a tint of Romeo’s green gaze, and it made telling them apart easy for family.

“Lemme see those teeth.” Wyatt showed his own in a mock fighter grimace that made Charlie laugh.

“Don’t stick your fingers in his mouth.” Jules helped herself to a small piece of the ham. “He bites now.”

Wyatt laughed. “Just like his mama.”

“Hush.” Jules scowled at him before she raised her eyebrows. “This is very good.”

“Tab can make anything taste good.”

“Where is she?”

“Last I saw she was in the doorway being molested by your brother-in-law.”

“Oh hell.” Jules grabbed another piece of ham and walked out of the kitchen, obviously intent on saving Tabitha. “Tino!”

Wyatt walked over to the stove, seeing that Romeo was frying something.

“What is it?” he asked as he eyed the pan that was bubbling and crackling.

Romeo turned to give him a look of horror. “Man, you dunno what calamari is?”

“Nah, I don’t.” Wyatt scowled at the plate of little fried rings. “I’m scared to ask.”

“Why don’t you just try it?” Romeo turned around and grabbed a bowl. He dished some red sauce into it and set it on the counter. “There. Dip them in that.”

Wyatt picked one up cautiously, seeing that they were still very hot. If he hadn’t been on a low-cholesterol diet for so damn long, he wouldn’t have risked it. “Is it like fried cheese?”

Romeo gave him another annoyed look before he said, “Don’t give it to the baby. He could choke on it.”

“What?” Wyatt dipped it and popped it into his mouth. It actually tasted really good, amazingly so, but still he had to ask, “Why’s it so chewy?”

“Look at you, eating squid after all that fucking bitching last year about the octopus.”

Wyatt turned around to greet Nova, who was holding Freddy. “Squid?”

“Nova, you can’t swear in front of the twins.” Romeo glared at his brother. “Last thing I need is for them to go around talking like you.”

“Tino lives in this house.” Nova laughed. “They know plenty of creative words already, I promise you.”

Romeo didn’t argue that as he turned back to Wyatt. “Good, right?”

“Less good now that I know it’s squid.” Wyatt picked up another piece anyway. He dipped it and put it in his mouth, trying to let himself appreciate the flavor rather than think about what it was. “Yeah, it ain’t bad.”

Wyatt took another one.

Tabitha came in and set the green beans on the counter. “What’re you eating?”

“Squid.” Wyatt dipped his fourth piece into the sauce. “I like it.”

“It’s fried. You can’t have it.”

“I’m supposed to eat it.” Wyatt raised his eyebrows at Tabitha. “It’s good luck or something.”

“Well, you ate it.” Tabitha reached around him, her large stomach bumping into his back as she pushed the plate back. “Come help me get the presents out of the car.”

Romeo laughed next to him, whispering, “Whipped,” under his breath.

“Boy, I wouldn’t even talk.” Wyatt gave him a look. “You married my sister. I know who wears the pants.”

“Lemme see this handsome boy.” Tabitha took Charlie from Wyatt.

“Tabby, he’s really heavy.” Wyatt frowned.

“Yes, he is.” Tabitha’s smile lit up her whole face as she studied Charlie, whose hair was still black as midnight. “Look at those pretty blue eyes. They get brighter every day. They’re just like your Uncle Wy Wy’s.”

“Wy!” Charlie grinned broadly.

“He’s talking more.” Tabitha held him close and smiled at Romeo. “Merry Christmas.”

“Buon Natale.” Romeo turned away from the stove and kissed Tabitha’s cheek. “How’re you feeling?”

“Huge.”

“What’re you talking about?” Romeo snorted. “Juliet was twice as big as you, easy.”

Tabitha hit his shoulder. “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

“What? She knows it.” Romeo held up his hand to the living room. “And she’s back to her old size now. She teaches more classes at the Cellar than I do.”

Wyatt snorted. “It was probably all the fucking ice cream Tino was getting for her. In my house all we eat is salad.”

“Hey, same rules apply.” Romeo scowled at Wyatt. “You can’t say that crap in front of Freddy and Charlie. They’re trying to talk. Last thing I need is to be at the store and have them blurt it out. It’s so friggin’ backward in this town.”

“So, you’re a house husband who gives me shit ’bout being whipped?” Wyatt laughed again.

Romeo reached over and punched Wyatt hard enough in the arm that it would likely leave a bruise. “Say another swear word, and we’re having it out the next time we’re both at the Cellar.”

“You think I can’t take you?”

“I know you can’t take me.” Romeo growled. “I got twenty pounds on you.”

“We’ll just teach them to swear in Italian,” Nova said in a very practical voice as he reached past Wyatt and helped himself to some calamari. “Then the hicks won’t have anything to bitch about.”

“Casanova, I swear to God, if they start swearing in Italian after you leave, I’m coming to New York to bury you.”

Nova laughed as he stood there chewing. His dark eyebrows were raised as if Romeo had just challenged him.

“You need any help with the cooking?” Tabitha asked, obviously trying to come to Nova’s rescue.

“From an eight-months-pregnant woman?” Romeo snorted. “No, I make it a point not to ask pregnant women to do anything. You should get off your feet.”

“But I’m fine.”

Romeo looked at her stomach and then said, “You’re our guest. Go sit down.”

“There is not enough therapy for you.” Nova laughed. “Jules’s pregnancy fucked you up for life.”

Romeo put a hand to his face and took a deep breath. “Madonn’, Nova, you say ‘fuck’ one more time—”

“You just said it.”

“Okay, everyone get outta my kitchen.” Romeo gestured to the living room. “Nova, help Wyatt get the presents out of his car. Tabitha, go relax. I got this.”

* * *

Wyatt ate too much.

It made him tired and lazy.

He was sprawled out over Jules’s leather sofa with his head on Tabitha’s thigh and Freddy sitting on his chest while he watched Tino help Charlie tear into the presents Wyatt and Tabitha had gotten him. Freddy was chewing on the tag hanging off the ear of a teddy bear. Jules jumped up from her seat on Romeo’s lap and yanked the bear out of his hand. She tore the tag off with the quick reflexes of a natural athlete, but she wasn’t fast enough.

Freddy was frozen with a silent scream now that his hands were empty. Even when Jules handed it back to him, he wasn’t interested anymore. The wail that burst out of him made Wyatt’s ears ring.

“Oh hell.” Wyatt laughed as he looked at his nephew. “Your mama’s mean.” He lifted him up, holding him over his head. “Come on, Freddy boy.” He was still howling, and Wyatt gave up. He handed him back to Jules. “You did it, Ju Ju. Now you got to fix it.”

“Man, they got lungs. You can hear them down the block.” Clay shook his head as he pulled Melody tighter against him. “That’s one thing I ain’t looking forward to.”

“Nah, that boy’s gonna be quiet as can be. He’ll just scowl at everyone.” Wyatt waved off the concern. “Ours too. She’s got half Tabby Cat in her. She’ll be nothing but sweet. These two wail ’cause they’re like their mama.”

“You can dry that one out and fertilize the lawn. Both of you are gonna be eating your words,” Jules said as she sat down next to Tino and found another present. She handed it to Freddy, who was still mad. “I cannot wait for these babies to be born.”

Tabitha rubbed at her back. “You and me both.”

“That ain’t even a lie,” Melody agreed as she shifted next to Clay, trying to curl into him despite her large stomach. “I’m ’bout tired of being pregnant.”

“I think we ought to place betting odds on which of you goes into labor first,” Nova suggested as he opened a gift Tabitha handed him. “Tabitha’s due sooner, but she’s having a girl. That boy of Clay’s has gotta be nine pounds at least. I think Melody’s gonna go first.”

Wyatt pushed his boot against the back of Nova’s head and grinned. “No gambling in my town, boy.”

Nova swiped at his hair. “Wyatt, you touch my hair again—”

Wyatt tapped his foot against Nova’s head again—just because.

Nova shoved at Wyatt’s foot in annoyance and then pulled the lid off the box and looked down at in surprise. He turned to Tabitha, shock showing on his tan face, when so little in life surprised him.

Tabitha smiled. “I’m sorry it’s not a better copy of it, but the fella who negotiates my contracts hasn’t read it yet.”

“What is it?” Tino looked over Nova’s shoulder to see. “A stack of paper. Yeah, that’s something he’d probably like.”

“Shut up, Tino.” Nova picked up the large stack of bound white pages. “You started a new series?”

“I did.” Tabitha nodded. “Good thing too. Everyone loved Nico so much in the final Sapphire County book, it was lucky I’d already started writing his series.”

“Tabitha,” Nova whispered as he looked at the title page.

Wyatt had seen it. He knew what Nova was reading.

Untamed Hearts, A Heroes of New York City Novel by T.C. Rennoc

Nova turned around and looked at her with uncertainty that was unusual for him. “But my story isn’t for children, even in fiction.”

“No, it isn’t,” Tabitha agreed. “This one is strictly for teenagers. It’s darker and more violent than the others, but I think you’ll like it. Dark heroes are amazing too. I’ve seen them do great things. I believe in them every bit as much as I believed in the first set of heroes.”

“Am I in there?” Tino asked as he looked over Nova’s shoulder again, now obviously interested. “Does that mean someone sexy and badass has to play me in a movie?”

Tabitha gave Tino an indulgent smile. “You’re in there. Very much so.”

“Thank you.” Nova held the book for a moment, and no one said anything, because the emotion was suddenly palpable. Even the babies stopped ripping at wrapping paper as if sensing the change in their uncle. “This means something.”

“Is it a good memory?” Tabitha asked.

Nova turned around and smiled at her, his dark eyes glassy. “Yes, it is.”

“I’m so glad.” Tabitha nodded as she wiped at her cheeks. “Dark heroes deserve happy endings too.”

Content

Crossing the Line
Battered Hearts - 3
by
Kele Moon

Part One

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Part Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Part Three

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Part Four

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Part Five

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Part Six

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Part Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Part Eight

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Part Nine

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Part Ten

Chapter Thirty-Six