Sassy Blonde (Three Chicks Brewery 1)

He knew exactly who she was talking about. “Maisie.”

Laurel leaned away and smiled bright, the deep love for Maisie shining in her expression. “You’re nearly there. So close to having what life is all about. People. Family. Friends. Love. It’s all that matters, Hayes. If you want to do right by me, then forgive yourself for you, forgive yourself for her. Be happy. Be good to her. Be good to each other.”

Hayes shut his eyes, feeling Laurel’s pulsating energy next to him, swearing she was right there. Her floral perfume smelled the same. The press of her head on his shoulder was so familiar. The words she said, all the things he knew she’d say to him. Warmth began to fill the broken, cold, dead parts of his heart. Somewhere in his mind, he knew this couldn’t be real, but his heart didn’t listen.

“I miss you,” he told her, holding her close. “We both miss you so much.”

She met him with teary eyes. “I miss you and Maisie too.”

He caught those tears and wiped them away. “I could have saved you, if I’d only gotten there in time.”

“No, Hayes, you couldn’t,” she said, closing the distance until her arms were around him tight. “Stop slowly dying for me. I never wanted that. If you do anything now, live for me.” Then her smile warmed. “Make Maisie’s dreams come true. All of them. You and only you can do this for her.”

Hayes’s chest tightened. “I wanted your dreams to come true too.”

“They did,” Laurel said. “I had you. I had Maisie. I had everything I ever wanted and more.”

“You didn’t have time.”

She lifted her hand to his face. “Move forward. It’s time for that.”

Her voice became distant, her warmth slowly dissipating, replaced by a cold void Hayes couldn’t run from. He wanted to scream, to run to her, but suddenly, his eyes snapped open.

Shadows spread across his ceiling. “Fuck,” he breathed, sitting up, drenched in sweat, thrusting his hands in his hair. It’d all been a dream, or his subconscious, but his feet were moving anyway. When he reached the back door, he flung it open, not sure what he’d find.

The early morning was just the same. The fog. The wet earth. The quiet. He shut his eyes, swearing he could still feel Laurel right there. But when he opened them, he was alone.

16

A ping on Maisie’s window jolted her awake. The clock read 5:02. She slid out of bed, quickly moving to her window. She was completely unprepared when she realized Hayes had thrown a pebble at her window. She opened the window before he could throw another one. “What are you doing?” she called down to him.

He stood near the porch light, the morning fog hanging over the wet earth. He wore a T-shirt and jogging pants, his hair a wild mess. Obviously he’d either not slept yet or had just woken up. “We need to talk,” he called up to her.

She leaned out the window. “Now? I thought we were meeting later?”

“I couldn’t wait. I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake everyone up, and you’re not answering your phone.” She always silenced the ringer at bedtime. “Open the window all the way, I’m coming up.”

“You’re coming up,” she repeated, then gaped at him. “Seriously?”

He hopped up on the porch’s railing, climbed the pillar and then hoisted himself up onto the roof. Maisie’s heart raced a little bit faster the closer he got. Admittedly, this little stunt fulfilled some teenage fantasy she’d once written about in her diary.

When he reached her, she stepped aside and he climbed through the window, which she closed after him. She turned to him as he moved to her bed. “I’ve got to say this is probably the most romantic gesture anyone has ever made for me.” He sat down on the bed and then his eyes met hers, and her smile faded at the darkness in their depths, the emptiness there. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk.”

Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She wanted to move to him, comfort him, and yet, her feet wouldn’t move her there, stuck in the worry that what he was going to say would ruin everything. “Okay. Then talk.”

He shut his eyes thrust his hands in his hair, bowed his head. “This is…this isn’t easy for me.”

The despondent tone of his voice. The shaking of his hands. The curl of his shoulders. She sat on her bed next to him and took his trembling hand. “Hayes, it’s me. Talk.”

He kept his head bowed, looking smaller than she could ever imagine he could. “I killed Laurel.”

She blinked, a cold bite hitting her stomach. “I don’t understand what just came out of your mouth.”

“I wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger, but I was the reason Laurel got shot. What you don’t know is, I was working gang crime in Denver. We had a big bu

st, but I shot the leader in the shoulder, instead of killing him, because I wanted him to be put to justice for the crime wave he spread across Denver.” Hayes gave Maisie a quick look and then averted his gaze again, his voice trembling. “That leader went after Laurel in retribution.”