Sean

Later that night, I turned into the quiet cul-de-sac in Cedar Park where Anna lived. I didn’t plan on going to her house straight away. At least that’s what I told Trevor when I’d convinced him to pull up her address on the tax assessor’s website. 

But here I was, squinting at the house numbers stenciled on the curb. Most of the designations were plain, with a white glow in the dark paint on a black background. But only one had a UT Longhorn logo.

I made a quick pass in front of the house to verify the address before parking across the street. 

When Anna mentioned that she lived close, I didn’t realize it was this close. Seven-point-three miles from her door to mine according to the GPS. I could run it in less than a half hour and drive it in five minutes.

Sipping the coffee I’d picked up at Starbucks on the way here, I looked around the upscale development. All the homes had well-manicured lawns and expensive cars in the driveway. But the charming red brick two story had Anna’s fingerprints all over it. An oak tree stood tall in the front yard with limestone bricks stacked neatly around the base of the trunk. Manicured hedges cupped the arched entryway, and brightly colored perennials peeked from the flower beds in front of the windows. And then there was the orange tricycle tucked against the garage, white streamers dangling from the handlebars.

I’d come here with every intention of letting Anna know that I was on to her and that I was totally cool if she wanted to use me. But first she needed to tell me why.

As I finished the Americano, the truth seeped in along with the caffeine. I wanted the girl, my girl, as much as the explanation.

Jumping out of my skin when Logan’s ringtone bled through the speakers, I gritted my teeth and ignored the call.

The phone rang again.

Without taking my eyes off the house, I tapped the button on the steering wheel. “What?”

Over the loud music in background, Logan said, “Dude, if you don’t start answering your phone, I’m implanting a fucking chip in your arm. Where the hell are you?”

I bit my tongue until I tasted blood to keep from tearing into him. We still hadn’t had the talk. The one where my best friend explained why he didn’t tell me about seeing Anna at the bar the night before we left town. And oh, by the fucking way, why in the hell have you been emailing her for a year?

Tamping down my anger, I replied, “Out.”

“What’s up your ass, Sean? I haven’t seen you in three days.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With Anna?” When I didn’t answer, Logan sighed. “She wasn’t at the show last night.”

My anger reignited, scalding my tongue as the words flew out. “Why the hell were you looking for her?”

“Because I invited her, dumb fuck.”

Before I could reply, Anna’s garage door slid open, spilling bright light onto the driveway.

I hunkered down in my seat as she stumbled out, dragging a large trash can behind her. “I gotta go.”

“Wait a minute!” Logan barked. “Benny called. He wants us to come to LA next week.”

“Fine, whatever.”

Distracted, I disconnected the call and watched as Anna walked backward down the steep incline. Under the street lights in her flimsy nightgown, I could see every curve, every slope of her body. And I glanced around to make sure nobody else was watching.

Mine.

Unable to sit still any longer, I hopped out of the car. “Anna!”

She whirled around, shock painting her features. “Sean, what are you doing here?”

Her mouth formed a little o as I marched toward her.

“I want to talk to you.” When she turned, bolting for the safety of the garage, I cursed under my breath and then broke into a sprint. “Anna, stop! 

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes widened as I closed the gap. “Go away!”

She wasn’t looking where she was going and she tripped over the tricycle, landing on all fours.

Flipping onto her backside, Anna cursed and then bowed her head, like the weight of the world just descended on her shoulders. 

Me.

I was the weight. 

“Are you all right?” I held out my hand as I approached. “Let me help you.”

Daggers shot from Anna’s pretty eyes as she looked up, scowling at me. I suppose she thought it was fierce. Cute is what it was, and all my anger fled.

“I’m fine.” She swatted me away. “I don’t need your help.” 

I crouched in front of her, my fingers itching to touch her. “What are you running from, baby?” I swept a curl behind her ear. “Huh?

She blinked up at me, defeat written all over her face. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Easing down beside her, I offered a small smile. “You’re probably right. But I am, so what are we going to do about it?”

Anna struggled to her feet. “You’re going to get in your car and leave, and I’m going inside.”

She tapped her foot impatiently. But I wasn’t going anywhere.

I glanced over my shoulder at her car. “Is Dean-o home?”

Her brows dove together, and she took a step back. “No.”

“Good.” I climbed to my feet, then took her hand. “We’ll talk inside.”

In Anna’s state, half naked and pissed as hell, she wasn’t concerned about her neighbors sneaking a peek at her goodies. But I was.

Mine.

Anna pulled her hand free and growled, “We will not.” Wincing, her gaze shot to a small gash on her palm. “Shit.” In seconds, a thin rivulet of blood trailed to her wrist. Dazed, she blinked up at me. “I think I cut myself.”

The sight of blood had always turned her to stone.

“You did, but it doesn’t look that bad.” I guided her to the door. “But we need to clean the dirt out.”

As I crossed the threshold, my feet tangled around a pink Big Wheel, giving Anna time to slip around me and rush to kitchen.

I was still staring at the toy like it might sprout wings when Anna called, “Hey, can you get me a Band-Aid?”

She pointed to a door right behind me.

I nodded, and then stepped inside a tiny washroom. Sorting through the medicine cabinet, I finally came across a couple of stray bandages imprinted with Disney princesses. I picked the one with the red hair.

Joining Anna at the kitchen sink, I laid the Band-Aid on the counter. “I think this is Aurora.”

Aurora was the only princess I knew by name, and only because my cousin went through a Sleeping Beauty phase. The kid refused to get out of bed for an entire weekend, insisting her prince would come. I finally had to pay the little boy next door two bucks to give her a damn rose.

Anna glanced at the package and rolled her eyes. “That’s Ariel.” She hissed a breath, her attention back on her wound. “It stings.”

Brushing aside her hand, I sloughed off the soap so I could get a better look. “How do you know?”

Anna tore her gaze from the pink water circling the drain. “Know what?”

“How do you know it’s not Aurora?”

“Because Aurora’s a Betty.” She tugged on her hair. “A blonde. And she doesn’t have a tail.”

I laughed. “Why in the hell would a princess have a fucking tail?”

“Because she’s a mermaid.”

Anna actually knew this shit. Amazing. And then I thought of her kid, her little girl, and my gaze flicked back to the Big Wheel by the door.

When the bleeding dwindled to a trickle, I turned off the water, smiling. “You don’t need stitches. Let’s get the Band-Aid on.”

Things got awkward, and Anna slipped free of my hold. “I’ve got it.”

Before she could ask me to leave again, I wandered to the living room to take a look around. The house was half the size of mine with none of the custom finishes, but unlike my mini mansion, this place screamed home.

On the coffee table, a half empty can of Dr. Pepper sat next to a John Grisham paperback and a coloring book, and Gran’s quilt lay in a messy ball at the foot of the couch.

I fingered a crocheted square. “I wish I could’ve seen her one last time before she . . .”

Died.

For someone intimately familiar with the concept, I couldn’t bring myself to say the word. Like if I never actually said it out loud, death would forget where I lived.

But who was I kidding?

Death had come to visit before I was born, stealing my father and my grandmother. And just to make sure he had my full attention, the grim reaper came back to take my mom.

Head bowed and lost in my own morbid thoughts, I didn’t realize Anna was in front of me until her hand sifted through my hair.

The girl knew how to chase away all my demons with only a touch. How did I ever forget that?

Resting my forehead on her chest, I breathed her in. When my arm banded around her waist, she stilled, and I lifted my gaze. 

“You should go,” she said, a weak smile playing on her lips.

Taking Anna’s hand, I pressed a kiss to the shiny new Band-Aid. “Why? You got a boyfriend or something?”

My attempt at humor fell flat, and she pulled away. “Of course not, I’m . . .”

Folding my arms over my chest, I waited for her to finish, but Anna was such a shit liar, she didn’t even try.

“You’re not married, Annabelle,” I said flatly.

Her eyes widened, but only fractionally. “Yes, I am. I’m just . . .”

“Separated?” I cocked my head, scrutinizing her with a frown. “Is that the word you’re looking for?”

Her lips parted, but then she went still, lifting a finger. “Shhh.”

I was about to ask why the hell she was shushing me when a child’s voice called, “Ma!”

The little cough that followed sounded like a bark. 

Anna stepped back, her eyes as cold and distant as I’d ever seen. “You need to go.” Another cough and her steely determination crumbled, along with her composure. “Leave, Sean. Now.”

And then she was gone, up the stairs without a backward glance.

Obviously, whatever was going on with her kid took precedence. We could finish later.

But as I headed for the door, Anna’s panicked voice floated from above.

“Breathe, baby, big breaths,” she pleaded. “Please, for Mommy.”

My feet moved of their own accord, taking the steps two at a time, and before I knew it, I was standing in the doorway of a cheery pink bedroom.

“Is everything okay?”

Anna rounded on me, eyes large and frantic. “I need your phone!” My attention slid to the clear plastic tube snaking from the headboard and the clunk, clunk, clunk, of a machine. A penguin? “Sean! Your phone!”

I snapped out of my stupor and dug the device from my pocket. “Here. What else can I do?”

Anna pried the phone from my hand while I stood, transfixed by the tiny figure tucked under the lavender sheet. Wisps of copper curls framed the little girl’s angelic face, falling over her eyes, scrunched tight in distress. She held onto the mask affixed to her nose as her chest rose and fell with labored breaths.

“What’s the matter with her?” I cut my gaze to Anna. “Why can’t she breathe?”

“Asthma.” Anxiety etched Anna’s tone, but she sounded a hell of a lot calmer than I felt. “She’s stable right now. I’m calling the doctor.”

I blinked at Anna and then back at the baby. Was she a baby? It was hard to tell.

“This is stable?”

Anna nodded, and then spoke into the phone. “Yes, this is Anna Kent.” 

Stepping away, she continued to relay information, but whatever she said faded to white noise because all my attention was focused on the little girl.

Until that moment, I’d put the notion of Anna’s kid to the back of my mind. But now she had a face. Anna’s face, apparently, because even with the mask obscuring her features, the resemblance was remarkable. Same alabaster skin. Same delicate fingers. And that hair.

I swept an auburn curl from her brow. “You look just like your mama.”

Her eyes flew open and inquisitive blue orbs searched my face.

Blue.

Not brown like Dean’s. Or green like Anna’s. Azure, with tiny filaments of silver spreading from the pupils.

My mom used to say we were lucky because we carried lightning in our eyes.

Just like this little angel.

Anna nudged me out of the way. “I have to go. Her doctor’s meeting us at Brackenridge.”

The electricity flowing between us arced into a circle, engulfing the little girl with the red hair and the blue eyes. And I knew.

Meeting Anna’s resigned gaze, I swallowed hard. “I’m driving you.”