Southern Storms (Compass 1)

“Leave,” Mr. Personality hissed, his stare still throwing daggers at Lars.

“Okay, okay, asshole.” With a sinister snicker, Lars tossed his hands up into the air. “Don’t shoot.”

Those words rolled off his tongue in a disturbing fashion, and now it was time for Mr. Personality to stumble backward a bit. His eyes flashed with emotion before he blinked it away. What was that? What was the story behind his slip of emotion?

Lars hurried away, and I watched a slow exhausted sigh fall from Mr. Personality’s lips as his shoulders dropped. The grizzly bear before me let go of his growl.

Relief rolled through me as I smiled toward Mr. Personality. “Thanks for that. I was about—”

“What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, his hard tone throwing me for a loop.

“What?”

“Why would you let him harass you like that for the whole day? Then, on top of that, you keep letting these nosy people come to your house and belittle you.”

I stood a bit straighter. “What are you talking about?”

“Every day, these people have been bringing you shit while shitting on you with their backhanded comments. They were pretty much spitting their disrespect straight into your face, and you just allowed it like you don’t have a freaking backbone.”

Wow. Okay. Apparently we were back to the aggressive, rude guy I met in the woods. “It’s really none of your business.”

“If you don’t shut them down right now, they aren’t ever going to pull back on being so aggressive and in your business.”

“And why do you care how people treat me?”

His eyes flashed with a softness, and I swore I saw a person I’d once known. He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and shrugged. “I’m just saying. The people in this town are walking trolls. If you have to play the bad guy, take on that role. Don’t stay timid, though. They love to break the timid. They’ll drive you crazy, push you up against a wall, attack you repeatedly until you snap—and believe me, you will snap—and then they’ll ask you why you snapped.”

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why do you care how people treat me?” I asked.

“I don’t,” he harshly muttered, brushing the back of his hand across his forehead. “But you don’t care how they treat you, either. Pretty sure that’s the real problem at hand.”

I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, say I didn’t care a lick what these townspeople thought of me, but the truth was I did care. I wanted them to like me, because more than being bullied, I feared being unloved.

My husband had made sure to put that fear into me—that I was unlovable. All I wanted to do was be loved, even if it meant breaking my own heart in order to get people to like me. That was a very depressing fact.

“A word of advice from the town asshole?” he offered.

“By all means, enlighten me.”

“Get a solid backbone. Stand up for yourself. Push back when they push up against you.”

“I don’t know if taking advice from the town asshole is such a solid idea. I don’t want to be a loner like you. I want to have friends.”

His eyes shifted away from me for a split second. When he looked back, I swore I saw…hurt? Had I hurt him with my words?

“I have friends,” he said, sure as ever. “People who mean the goddamn world to me. People who get me when the rest of the world tries to break me.”

My stomach knotted up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that…”

“You did, and that’s fine, but before you sit here judging me, focus on yourself right now. Decide if you truly want these people as friends. People aren’t careful about who they give themselves to nowadays because they think being liked is more important than being respected. These people will kill you.”

I laughed. “I doubt Louise and Kate are going to take my life.”

“I’m not talking about taking your life. I’m talking about them taking something more important.”

“And what’s that?”

“Your soul.”

I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. I just stood still as day as he moved in closer to me and spoke so softly. “Bark at them, Kennedy. Bark.”

He took a step backward, taking my breath along with him. My chest was so tight as he walked away. His words were sending chills down my spine as they played on repeat in my head, as if they were trying to unlock something within my memories.

Bark at them, Kennedy. Bark.

10

Kennedy

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry he treated you like that, Kennedy. What a freaking dick,” Yoana said through the phone as I yawned and stretched in bed. My back was extremely sick and tired of me being an idiot and sleeping in a car for the past few nights, so I’d moved myself inside to an actual bed like a real grown-up. I was so happy when the furniture finally arrived and the house began feeling more like a home.