There with You (Adair Family 2)

Lewis considered this. “So I should stop saying she smells?”

“Yeah. It would be the right thing to do. The kind thing.”

“But I can say she’s mean? Because that’s true.”

Trying not to laugh, I replied diplomatically, “That’s fine if it’s true, and it’s always good to be honest, especially if someone is picking on you, no matter what age they are. But I always say it’s best to fight unkindness with kindness. So anytime you come across someone in life who isn’t very nice to you, it does no good to come down to their level and be unkind in return. And sometimes, when you’re kind to someone who hasn’t been kind to you, you change their attitude, and they stop being mean to you. Yeah?”

I was shocked by how attentive this seven-year-old boy was, but Lewis was hanging on to my every word and seemed to process it. Finally, he nodded and said, “Okay.”

It was only then that I realized the table was quiet. Looking up, I found my three adult companions staring at me: Thane in gratitude, Lachlan in surprise, and my sister with an expression that veered between pride and melancholy.

The melancholy gutted me.

“Finished!” Eilidh yelled, breaking the moment. She had ketchup all over her cheeks.

I grinned, grateful for the cutie. “Did you eat any of it or just get it all over your face?”

Joy glittered in her eyes, and she slapped her little hands down on the table and cackled. Her loud, hilarious giggling was so infectious, she made us all burst into laughter.

It was a pity her magic didn’t last.

* * *

A while later, Thane and his cute kids left with the promise that I’d pop by in the morning to braid Eilidh’s hair. Jet lag had hit me, and Robyn sensed I was fading.

“Let me help with the dishes,” I offered for the thousandth time as she and Lachlan tidied up.

“We have a dishwasher,” Robyn repeated. “You look exhausted. Go to bed.”

My eyelids were drooping, so I followed her order and stumbled upstairs. I barely remembered changing into pjs and getting into bed.

It would be hours later when an electronic sound filtered into my unconsciousness, and I forced open my heavy eyes, blinking against the light flooding into the room. It took me a minute to remember where I was.

Groaning as soft daylight illuminated the bedroom, I rolled over in the super comfortable guest bed and fumbled for my phone on the side table. The screen lit up—six o’clock in the morning.

The blackout blinds were on an automatic timer.

For six o’clock in the morning.

“We’ll need to do something about that,” I muttered grumpily as I shoved myself into a sitting position. It was then I registered the email notification banner on my phone.

All I saw was the word Austin and a wave of nausea rose in my gut.

No, no, how could he have this email?

Fingers shaking, I clicked on it, relief washing through me when I realized it was just stupid spam for a discount on a hike-and-bike trail tour in Austin, Texas.

“Fuck,” I muttered, cradling my head in my hands. It had been five months since my last email from Austin, when I’d finally stopped letting him control my life with his harassment and deleted my email and social media accounts, changed my cell number, and pretended he’d never existed.

It was his last email that had finally awakened my fighting spirit. His words were so unhinged, they were seared on my memory.

Beautiful, I can’t sleep again. How many hours of sleep have I lost over you? You owe me those hours. Hours I should have been inside you, watching you come, making those sweet noises you make as you’re reaching for it. I want to punish you so badly for making me feel this way. It’s your fault I’m so fucked up. You made me love you. You’re making me chase you. But when I find you, when we find each other, you’ll see what I see. That we’re meant to be together. I would never hurt you. Anything I say or do is to keep you safe with me.

I can’t wait to make love to you.

But first, you’ll get the punishment fuck you think you escaped. I’ve been imagining it over and over in my head. I want it to hurt so you can feel my pain. God, it makes me so hard just thinking about it.

You see what you do to me?

I love you. I love you so much, Regan. You’ll see it too. Soon.

All my love,

Austin

Remembering that morning in my motel room in California when I’d opened that email, my nausea intensified. At the time I’d thrown my phone across the bed, hurried to the bathroom, slammed up the toilet seat, fallen to my knees, and gagged.

Nothing came up.

I’d dry heaved over it for what seemed like ages. Shuddering, tears had rolled down my cheeks, and I’d swiped angrily at them.