This morning…
THE CAR SLAMMED TO A stop in the middle of Duck Street, throwing me against the seatbelt. The impact knocked the wind slightly out of my lungs.
“It’s an automatic, Blaire. That’s not a clutch. It’s a break.” I tried to use a calming tone and not glare in horror at my sister. “You only use it at, like, lights and stop signs.”
“Emma, I swear. One more word, and I’m getting out and walking back to the apartment.”
I steadied my thoughts, knowing this wasn’t an idle threat. She would leave me and the car right there in front of Garth Brooks’s old yellow house. And I couldn’t drive. Not for another two weeks.
“I’m sorry. I know this is a big deal for you. Just go slow and everything will be fine. We are not in a hurry.” I turned to face the front, praying a big farm truck didn’t ram us from behind. “Thank you for doing this.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Her foot lifted from the brake. She smashed the gas and we shot forward, slinging my neck back against the seat.
I knew driving scared Blaire and I was starting to understand why. She was going to wreck our car. After all these years of joking, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of actually sharing my car. Not when she drove like Jeff Gordon with Fred Flintstone’s feet.
I didn’t relax until we had left the city limits and drove down the vacant dirt road. Staring out the window, I tried to calm the apprehension that spun through my nerves.
I’d left his trailer thirteen days ago. Thirteen very long and very eventful days ago. And I’m sure he thought I wasn’t coming back. After yelling all those terrible words, I bet Wyatt assumed he’d finally driven me away for good. And that had me worried.
The guy was in bad shape. I’d never seen a person ripped apart like Wyatt. His insides were raw with guilt and pain that manifested as serious depression. I didn’t need to be a psychologist to put that one together.
“Turn in here.” I pointed toward the silver metal gate.
“Seriously? The place with the cow skulls? Are there human ones too?”
I knew she was trying to get a reaction out of me. Instead of responding to her condescending remark, I focused on the positive instead of the negative. She had taken a huge step by driving the car. She had brought me to see Wyatt. “Blaire, you will have to open the gate. Just pull the chain out of the hook. Don’t worry about shutting it.”
“Okay.” She said the word like I asked her to push me to the top of Mount Everest in a wheelchair.
My hands got fidgety as I watched her struggle with the gate. She managed to get the silver metal pushed to the side and got back in the driver’s seat. “Where’s the road?”
“Just follow the tracks in the grass.”
“That’s not a road. I’m not messing up my car over this.”
“Just.” I took a calming breath. “It’s fine. Just follow the tracks. You will see the buildings better once we get in there.”
She stared at me like I was crazy. I imagined a hundred different Criminal Minds episodes running through her head. Even though she knew Wyatt wasn’t technically dangerous, it didn’t mean she necessarily approved of him or where he lived. And when did it become her car?
Blaire touched the gas, making sure she hit every rut and bump. My knee was still in a brace from ankle to midthigh. And thanks to Dr. Westbrook and his tray of nuts and bolts, my bones were tied all back together and my ACL was good as new. I did therapy every day, but I couldn’t put weight on the leg for another week—and no driving for at least two, which only happened because it was my left leg.
Thirteen days ago, Kurt had dropped me off at the hospital. I’d had surgery and then I’d moved in with my parents, at least for the time being, until I could maneuver around on my own again. Thirteen long and torturous days where I thought about nothing but Wyatt.
I strained to see his trailer and the kennel, trying to find him somewhere in the distance.
“What are you going to do if he flips out again?” Blaire asked.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, searching for his familiar shape in the distance. And then I saw him.
Wyatt.
He walked slowly out in front of the kennel, watching us get closer. Blaire hit the break, slamming me against the seatbelt and leaving a small cloud of dust from the tires.
Opening the door, I struggled to get out of the seat. And then I saw his face, so twisted and almost gray instead of the usual tan from the sun. I didn’t bother to grab my crutches from the backseat. I bounced on one foot, stopping next to the hood. Leaning against the metal for support, I gauged his reaction.
Wyatt seemed spooked—his eyes were wild and crazy and even a bit scary. His hands were shaking to the point of distraction with his palms flexing into fists and releasing. The guy was on the cusp of a physical explosion. And then he came toward me.
I was right to be worried. “Wyatt, before you say anything—”
But the words disappeared the moment I felt his arms circle around my body. He clung to me the way a drowning man would hold onto a tree limb. So tight. So desperate.
My heart broke into a million pieces. And I couldn’t breathe as he pulled every bit of strength from me. But I gave it freely. I gave everything I could to Wyatt as he held on to me under the hot sun.
After what seemed like an eternity, he loosened his grip enough to look at me. Our eyes morphed into one of those deep, probing stares. So lost. So alone. I almost cried right there in front of him. “I’m so sorry. I was afraid you would think that I wasn’t coming back. I wanted—”
And then he kissed me. Hard. It was different from the soft lips he had used in the past. The desperation fueled a spark that transcended into some frantic desire. Wyatt kissed the same way he’d clung to me earlier—like his life depended on it.
He trailed over my cheek and neck, letting his lips rest against my ear. His gruff voice spoke low, and I struggled to hear the words.
“I don’t know what scared me more when you left,” he whispered. “That you wouldn’t come back. Or that you would.”
I knew this was the turning point. I had finally broken through his defenses. I had torn down the walls, and he was letting me inside for real this time.
“I wanted to come back. The moment I left. I wanted to turn back around.”
“You did?” He seemed surprised or maybe relieved.
“Remember?” I whispered. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.”
His grin came slowly, painfully, like he needed to process his thoughts, pushing the worried ones aside. But Wyatt finally smiled and his whole face moved. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to go inside his trailer and let him run his hands over my skin. I wanted to feel that same desperate spark as he moved inside of me.
“You’re right. He’s got some serious dimples.”
I mentally gasped, hearing my sister’s voice. I had forgotten she was in the car witnessing my entire makeout session.
“Wyatt, um, this is Blaire. My sister.” I didn’t know why I added that last part. It wasn’t like he couldn’t tell from just looking.
“I didn’t think you drove,” he asked, seeming confused.
“I don’t. But she’s been driving me crazy. Wyatt. Wyatt. Wyatt. Blah. Blah. I finally just said fuck it. I’ll waste my morning in that death trap.”
“Blaire!” I shot her a death glare. “Sorry, she can be an acquired taste.”
Wyatt didn’t say anything. His eyes traveled back and forth between us, taking in the similarities. And then his smile grew a little hazy as he looked off in the distance.
“What?” I asked.
He laughed faintly. “Nothing. It’s just funny seeing both of you together.”
“Not him too.” Blaire rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you won’t fixate on it like Kurt.”
“Who’s Kurt?”
I cringed at his question, not wanting to explain Kurt the pervert to Wyatt. Blaire eyed me, sensing my dilemma, but she went for it anyway.
“She’s never told you about Kurt? Typical Emma.” She smirked. “Kurt is the reason her knee got messed up, again. And the reason I had to drive out here today because his little obsession put Emma in the hospital.”
“You were in the hospital?” His fingers dug into my shoulders.
I nodded, looking down at my black-encased leg, the one I held slightly off the ground. “Surprise. I got that surgery after all. That’s what I was trying to tell you. It’s why I didn’t come back sooner.”
“Emma. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” His face twisted up as he slipped back into a guilt-stricken panic. “Shit. You shouldn’t be standing here. Did I hurt you? I am so stupid. I was mauling you out here. You can’t even stand. Shit.”
I grabbed his cheeks on each side of his face, getting his attention. “I’m okay. I promise. And Kurt is my apartment manager. We were talking. And I slipped on the stairs. He drove me to the hospital.”
Standing behind him out of view, Blaire visibly choked as she heard my explanation. I would deal with her later. Telling Wyatt about Kurt would just make things worse. He would get more worked up over something that was beyond his control. It’s not like Wyatt could even leave this place to confront my slightly obsessive apartment manager. And maybe I’d made too much of it—after all, the guy did drive me to the hospital.
“Let me help you inside.” The wild look in his eyes got stronger. “We can talk or something.”
“I would like you to take me to the kennel. I want to see everyone. I want to see Charlie.”
He nodded before bending down and picking me up. I settled into the crook of his arms with my leg sticking straight out in that stupid contraption. We made eye contact, and my heart beat faster.
“Is this okay?” Wyatt asked. His desperate need for reassurance was transparent.
“Yeah.” I traced a finger down his jaw, right over the spot that kept his hidden dimple. His familiar scent of clean soap filled my nose. I smiled at Wyatt, wanting to kiss him again. I leaned up, brushing my mouth against his.
“I’ll be in the trailer,” Blaire said as she pulled her giant backpack out of the backseat.
“Okay,” I mumbled. She went up the steps and disappeared behind the old door. I looked back at Wyatt. “I don’t know about her being in there alone. She might have some weird forensic kit stuffed down in that backpack.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got nothing to hide.” Even though his words came out like a joke, I saw the way his jaw tightened up.
Wyatt carried me to the kennel. Once inside, the familiar sounds of the dogs filled the whole room, echoing off the metal walls. He took me down the main aisle toward Charlie.
“Wait.” I grabbed his arm. “I want to see Cye. I don’t think I can get down in there, but I want to see him. Did you give him the bones while I was gone? Did it work?”
“Well, I’ll let you see for yourself.” He sat me down next to the gate, and I held onto his arm for support.
“I don’t understand.” My eyes traced the perimeter of the pen. An old bulldog was perched in the back where Cye had always sat. “Where is he?”
“Right under your nose.”
“What the—” About two feet away, the battered dog sat in the corner by the gate. He was angled just right so I couldn’t reach through and touch him. But he was close enough for me to see the gold flecks in his one dark eye. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, Betty arrived and she stared at the wall. So I put them in the kennel together. I wasn’t sure what would happen. Not all of their problems are solved. But I guess Betty gave Cye the stare-down until he moved. I can’t touch him yet. And he seems a little angry at me. But he moved.”
“Wow. Well, that is not what I expected. A lot happened while I was gone.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
I turned to face him. “I need to say something to you.”
Wyatt didn’t answer immediately. He let out a deep breath. “Okay.”
“I researched you while I was at home. I had plenty of time to do it. I read about the accident and all the stuff printed afterward. And I . . . um . . . I read about Trevor,” I added cautiously, unsure of his reaction since I knew Wyatt had left that part out of his story on purpose.
His eyes got a little dark as he stared off in the distance past my head, but I continued anyway. “I read all of it. But I also found the articles from high school. You were a football player. A pretty good one too. I even tracked down the stuff from Texas. You were the reason they made the Division-II national finals.”
“Well, all of that is gone now.”
“I know. But that’s not the point I am trying to make. You did a bad thing, Wyatt. I’m not going to act like you didn’t. But I don’t think it makes you a bad person. And before you say anything, I realize that I will never know the guy who existed before the accident. But that doesn’t really matter. I know the person I see now. And I know right here.” I rested my hand over his heart. “That person is not bad. He’s just a little lost and really broken.”
Wyatt put his hand over mine, holding it tight to his chest. The torment twisted around on his face like a visible tug-of-war over my words.
“Emma.” His voice grated on my name. “I try to sort it out in my head, but it’s all a damn mess. I haven’t really talked about it with anyone. And I don’t even know if I told you the whole truth. I honestly don’t remember everything from that night. And that messes with me too.”
“I can’t imagine what it’s like, being out here all alone, living with those feelings every day.”
His green eyes bore down into mine, letting me see the deep pain rotting his insides. I slipped my arms around his neck, pressing myself into his body. He tucked his nose against my cheek.
“This is hard for me to say.” He muttered so quiet the words almost disappeared. “But I need you in my life, Emma.”
“I know,” I whispered. “It’s why I kept coming back.”
He let out a deep breath. “But I don’t know what I’m doing. You. Me. Us. Here. I don’t know how this works.”
“Honestly, me either.” I laughed faintly. “Look. I can’t drive for another couple of weeks. And I won’t force Blaire to bring me out here again either. But I’ll come back once the doctor clears me. I want to help you. I want to be there for you. I want to be with you. I know it will be hard, but I can handle it, if you just let me. Because I want this with you.”
He swallowed, making his throat move with emotion. “I wish I could give you more than this. But it’s all I can do for now.”
“What? Like dates to stupid places that just cost money? I think we both know that other stuff is overrated. I’d rather just spend time with you here.”
“You say that now.”
“It’s the truth. I want you, Wyatt. Just the way you are.”
I gazed into his troubled eyes until Wyatt leaned down and kissed me, letting his tongue slip through my lips. His mouth moved slowly and sweetly as his hands trailed over my body until they cupped my butt cheeks before scooping me up in his arms. I held on tight as he carried me down the aisle to see Charlie.