The Wayward Sister (The Wayward Sons 5)

He looks me over, like he’s trying to assess the truth in that statement. Can he tell how hard my heart is beating, or the nightmare I’d woken from minutes before?

The dream felt so real. Terrifying.

Reid’s body had been on top of me, groping and pawing. I felt like I was suffocating and unable to catch my breath.

Even now, standing in front of Smith, I tell myself I’m not afraid, that he didn’t hurt me, but each one of those statements feels like another brick in the wall Katie accused me of building. A wall I’m tired of holding up.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

I frown. “Have to what?”

“Take care of yourself, by yourself.”

I laugh and run my hands through my tangled hair. “I don’t know what you want from me, Smith. You made it pretty clear on New Year’s Eve that you weren’t interested. Which is fine. I was just, I don’t know, looking for a little fun.”

His eyes hold mine. I feel exposed and more unanchored than ever, except there’s the slightest tug, like a cord binding us together. It’s something in his eyes, in the way he looks at me, that makes me think of what Katie said.

I’m not the only one dealing with loss.

He crosses his arms over his chest, showing me the lines of his forearm and the swell of his upper body. “I was wrong that night.” He frowns. “No, not wrong, but I apologize. I handled it badly.”

I snort, a defense mechanism for my humiliation. “So, you’re apologizing?”

“Yes.”

“For what? Not wanting me? I’m the one that took liberty where it wasn’t wanted.”

He looks like he wants to argue but doesn’t. His fingers push into his thick hair. “So now I can’t even apologize? You’re a fucking piece of work, Sierra Falco.”

My jaw drops. “What did you just say?”

He shakes his head. “Never mind. You’re right. You’ve got this. All on your own.”

He opens the truck door and slides inside. Before he closes the door, a walkie-talkie sitting on the bench seat crackles to life. Without hesitation, he picks it up and listens.

“…smoke over the ridge. Eastern summit. All fire units, rangers, and safety personnel report in…”

The voice rolls out a series of numbers, none of which mean anything to me, but Smith reacts immediately, cranking the truck.

“There’s a fire? In the park?”

Forest fires in this area are common, deadly and terrifying.

“Sounds like it.” He gives me a softer look. “I need to go.”

“Yes. Go.” I step back, all my anger from the argument vanished. He nods, moving to shut the door. I hold on to the top. “Smith?”

“Yeah?”

“You guys be careful, okay?”

He nods again, blue eyes intense, and shuts the door.

I watch him back out of the driveway and speed down the dirt road, his headlights bouncing off the uneven surface.

I head back into the house, sit on the couch, and pull out my phone. It only takes a minute to find the first reports of the fire on the internet.

No matter what happens tonight, one thing is for certain: I’m not getting much sleep.