Show Me the Way (Fight for Me 1)

Wished she had let me know she was in trouble. I wished we had more time.

But I guessed us Dayne women were stubborn that way.

“I’m betting your grandma didn’t see it that way, which is the very reason you’re back there now.”

I gulped around the emotion, voice hushed. “Thanks, Mace. I needed to hear that.”

She tsked softly. “Of course you did. This is why you have me.”

From the other end of the line, I heard rustling, could feel her mood changing course as she settled back in the plush couch in the den. I could almost see the glass of red wine in her hand. “So, how is it being back in Gingham Lakes so far? Have you run into anyone you know?”

Her voice turned wry. “Tell me you found out bitch-face took a deep dive into the lake and never came back up for air. Or maybe she took a sharp curve driving a little too fast? Which would you prefer?”

A low chuckle rumbled free. “You’re horrible, Mace.”

“Psh. Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined it a thousand times.”

“Okay, okay, maybe I imagined her demise a time or two.”

Like every time I’d closed my eyes for two years after it happened. Wondering what it might have been like if I could have turned the tables on her and wishing all the same she could just take it back.

What had I ever done to warrant that level of cruelty? Could she possibly have known just how badly what she’d done had hurt?

Old memories twisted my stomach into knots. Traces of that evil, depraved laughter touched my ears, visions of her standing there like it’d meant nothing at all while she’d destroyed my entire world. It was as if crushing me had been nothing but entertainment.

“And no. I looked her up. She moved to Missouri.”

“You looked her up?” Surprise coated Macy’s tone.

“I just . . . had to.”

Silence filled the space between us. “I get it,” she finally said.

Bending down, I pulled my coffee pot from the box, puffing out a breath as I did. “To answer your question, no, I haven’t seen anyone I know. My Gramma was right, the city has really grown since I left. It’s not filled with the familiar faces like it used to be. I stopped by the grocery store this afternoon and didn’t recognize a soul.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

I sighed. “I don’t know . . . both, I guess. I used to love that I knew everyone. That I’d go into the restaurant and knew at least half the people there. It made it feel safe. But after everything? The rumors?” My lips pursed. “It’s nice to be somewhere I love and have a clean slate. It feels like a second chance.”

I just prayed it remained that way.

“Well, if there aren’t any familiar faces, tell me there are at least some panty-melting ones you’ve run across. You know, some yummy to my tummy hotties hanging around, waiting to steal your heart? Knowing you’re getting some will at least ease some of my worry for you.”

A scoff scraped my throat. Leave it to Macy. “Oh, there’s a hottie, all right, but he definitely isn’t hanging around waiting to steal my heart.”

It was that moment when I heard the low rumble of a powerful engine approaching in the distance.

Of course.

Gramma had always told me all you needed was to speak of the devil and he’d appear.

There’d been something about our encounter this morning that had left me unsettled. Something about that gorgeous stranger that had left me restless and curious.

Interest piqued.

The man was a paradox.

Hard and brittle and cold.

Yet so incredibly gentle with the little girl, who’d clung to his hand as if he were the center of her world.

There seemed to be nothing I could do but edge toward the window, stealing to the side to remain out of sight.

I pulled back the edge of the curtain and peeked out.

Headlights cut into the night, and my stupid heart kicked an erratic beat. That intrigue increased my pulse to a thunder. I was riddled with that same fierce attraction I’d felt when I’d looked up earlier today to find him towering over me, the way my stomach had twisted and the nervousness that had followed me back to Gingham Lakes took a new form.

The headlights grew brighter, illuminating the space between our houses before the monstrous truck slowed and turned into the driveway across the street.

“Oh, oh, oh, tell me all about it. Someone sounds pouty . . . and turned on.”

“You know how my luck goes when it comes to men.” The scales were always tipped to bad. “You shouldn’t be surprised that my neighbor is like . . . gorgeous.”

Macy squealed. “How gorgeous?”

I watched as Rex hopped out of his truck and went straight for the backseat.