I cross my legs, the burn a luscious memory of what Saxon did to my body last night. I’ve never felt dirtier being locked away in that shower, but when we finally emerged, flushed, spent, and completely satiated, we fell into bed and spent our first night as a couple sleeping side by side. I can’t remember ever sleeping so sound.

When I woke, the sun was just appearing over the horizon. I didn’t have the heart to wake a softly snoring Saxon because he had a look of complete peace settled over him. I showered and grabbed my laptop because I had work to do.

I mail the spreadsheet Anna requested and then send a few emails. It still pains me that I’m unable to go to Syria, but once things settle, I will get back into my routine. As I wait on replies from my allies overseas, I decide to tackle the next thing on my list.

I’ve scoped out a few realtors and sent several emails. There is one I really like, but this decision isn’t mine to make alone. I have no idea where Sam is, which goes to prove this living under the same roof notion can work. We’ll come and go as we please and probably hardly ever see one another.

As I’m tapping my pen on the edge of the breakfast counter, looking at houses on my screen, a mouthwatering fragrance breezes through the air, exciting my taste buds and stirring my girly parts. “Good morning.” Saxon lays a soft kiss on my temple as he looks over my shoulder. “What’s this?”

I ignore the fact I want to bury my nose in the crook of his neck and reply. “I told you I would look for realtors.”

“I can see that, but you’re looking at houses?”

“Yeah. That’s what one does when they plan on selling their home,” I reply with a smirk. But when he rounds the counter and stands before me, I know he’s not amused. “What’s the matter? You don’t want me to sell?”

He runs a hand through his mussed hair. The sunlight lights up his bare torso, but I have other pressing matters to deal with. “I do. Of course, I do, but you’re staying here? In Montana?”

My mouth falls open in understanding. “I-I don’t know. I just figured—”

“Your life is here?” He fills in the blanks while I jump up from my stool and hustle to where he stands.

“My life is with you.” I press my palm to his whiskered cheek.

“My life is in Oregon. There is nothing for me here.” When I arch a brow, he grins. “Apart from you.” So we’ve finally reached the impasse I knew we’d have to face sooner or later.

“I know. I just, Montana has always been my home. My parents are here. Piper. My horses.” Saxon nods, understanding the dilemma, but his stiff upper lip reveals that even though he understands, he has no intention of packing up his life and moving to the last place on earth he’d want to call home.

“Maybe we could try the long-distance thing?” he says, tongue in cheek. I reply by playfully slapping him on the chest.

“How about I sell this house first, and then we can discuss the future?” I offer a compromise. I know it’s not long term, but I feel like we just jumped one hurdle. I want the dust to settle before we tackle another.

Wrapping his arms low around my waist, he draws me toward him. I smother a moan when I’m punched with his beauty up close. “Okay. I do have to go back to Oregon at some point, though.”

“When?” I can’t hide the anxiety from my tone.

“Soon.” He’s right. I’m being incredibly selfish, but just the thought of him leaving has me wanting to breathe into a brown paper bag. “Hey, it’ll be fine. I won’t be gone for too long.”

“Any time away from you is too long.”

He smirks, a lazy tug of those sinful lips. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“My heart misses you when you’re in the other room. I can’t imagine what’ll happen when you’re in another state.” It may sound melodramatic, but it’s the truth. “You don’t want to be held responsible for such an atrocity, do you?”

His husky laugh sends goose bumps all the way to my toes. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He places his fist over the hub in question. “You could always come with me.”

I blink once, taken off guard. “To Oregon?”

“Yes. Not to live. Just to scope it out on the off chance that you fall in love and never want to leave.”

Once I get everything figured out, nothing would be holding me back. I owe this to Saxon. He has stayed for me. “I suppose I could.”

“That’s better than no.”

“See, this is called compromise.” He laughs, kissing my lips softly. I hunger for this man, and each taste has me craving more.

“I have another compromise for you…” No guessing what that entails when he smirks.

I’m about to take him up on his offer when in strolls Sam, wearing the same clothes as yesterday. His disheveled state hints he had a late night. Or early morning—whichever way you want to look at it. “Oh, shit, sorry.” He’s about to turn around and exit the way he came, but I stop him.

“It’s okay.” If we’re going to do this, then we have to stop walking on eggshells. I subtly untangle myself from Saxon’s embrace because although I’m all for us acting normal, I want to behave with tact.

However, the red hickey on the side of his neck the size of Texas has me thinking he’s slowly coming to terms with this new reality. “Where have you been?” I quickly bite my lip because that came out a lot more judgmental than I meant.

“Out,” he replies with a shit-eating grin.

Fair enough. I don’t lay any claim on him anymore. He can come and go as he pleases. I pale at the thought. “Great, I’m glad.” So why does it feel like I’ve just received a swift kick to my solar plexus? “When you’re cleaned up, maybe we could go over some realtors?”

His mood instantly sours, but he nods. “Sure. I’ll just grab a shower.” He reaches for an apple on the way out. I can’t help but linger on the spot he once stood, attempting to dissect what the hell that was.

Saxon’s body language speaks volumes. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Saxon, stop.” I latch onto his forearm. He has every right to be angry with me. I’m angry with me. “I’m sorry. I have no idea what that was. I just… I wasn’t expecting to react that way. Force of habit, I guess.”

“It’s fine. I understand.” But the palpable anger pulsating through him makes that a lie.

“I’m trying my best.” I use the same words he said to me last night, hoping to explain something I don’t even comprehend.

It has the desired effect, and his shoulders slump. “I know. This is just so fucking weird.” He pulls me into his arms. “It’s not even been a week, and already he’s chasing tail. I don’t buy it. You and me… it’s been a long time coming. But he’s obviously just shacked up with the first bimbo he could find.”

I swallow down my revulsion at that very vivid image. “Maybe this is him moving on?” I offer. But Saxon isn’t convinced. I know what he’s going to say, so I place my hand over his mouth. “No more conspiracy theories, okay? Whatever or whomever he does is none of my business. All I care about is selling this house and then moving on…with you.”

He kisses my palm, before gently removing it. “Okay. The sooner, the better.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Looping my hands around his nape, I grin as I’m struck with a brilliant idea. “How about we go on that date tonight? I feel like getting drunk. Maybe get a little crazy?” I wink to emphasize my point, though I probably look like I have something in my eye.

Saxon erupts into a husky fit of laughter. “You’re too cute for your own good.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Okay, it’s a date.”

A wave of giddiness passes over me, and I feel like I’m sixteen again. However, I squash down the sadness to that thought. “Yay!” I cheer, feeling somewhat normal again. “FYI—” I bat my eyelashes “—this date will definitely end in you getting laid,” I confirm in a loud whisper behind my hand.

He tongues his upper lip, his eyes turning sultry and disintegrating my underwear. “I’ll skip dinner then and head straight for dessert.” Saxon doesn’t just speak, he makes love to every word.

“I can’t wait.” And I honestly can’t.

With the earlier incident behind me, I only focus on the positives. I wanted Sam to move on. And even though the bitter aftertaste still lingers, I tell myself one step at a time. This is all part of making new memories and learning from the mistakes we’ve all made.

“So it’s decided?”

I’m sipping my third glass of red wine, looking over Hayley Regan’s realtor portfolio. Her sales are amazing, and it seems every house sells within days once she places it on the market. A quick sale is exactly what I want.

Sam and I have spent the afternoon researching realtors. The market isn’t great at the moment, so we want to hire someone who knows the business well. We’ve also tiptoed around the topic of what we’re going to do with our possessions, including our joint bank account.

All in all, there is a lot to discuss.

Saxon has been MIA, not that I blame him. I know he feels uncomfortable with this arrangement, but the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can all move on with our lives. Sam and I have been civil toward the other, but the underlying tension between us still lingers.

“Yes, Hayley it is,” I reply while Sam sighs in relief.

“Great. I’ll make some calls and organize a face to face. Let me know what days suit you best.”

“Oh? We’re doing this together?” Sam pauses from drinking his Budweiser, which instantly has me kicking my own butt. “I just thought…”

“If we can’t manage to do a simple task such as this together, then we may as well quit now.” He gulps down his beer, clearly pissed off.

He’s right. I need to get over this hang-up and soldier on. “You’re right. Sorry, Sam. This is just all so…”

“Fucking weird.” Funny choice of words, considering Saxon used the very same ones. They are more alike than either care to admit.

“Yes.” I reach for my wine, finishing the last of it in one anxious sip. Sam leans forward and refills my glass. My desperation must show.

“I still can’t wrap my head around it, but I have to. It’s what you want.” He has another mouthful of beer, appearing to weigh what to say. “I can’t make you love me.” My heart contracts, and I lower my eyes. “I’m just sorry I forced you to stop.”

“Don’t.” I shake my head, the tears threatening to break free.

“I’m sorry. I really am trying.”

When I hear the tremble in his tone, I instinctively reach across the table and clasp his hand. “I know you are. This isn’t easy for any of us.” He squeezes my fingers, needing the comfort, and I don’t see the harm in offering that to him.

“Will you miss it?” When I pale, he smiles, just how he used to a lifetime ago. “I mean the house. I know how much you love it here.”

Honestly, I haven’t given it much thought, but glancing around the kitchen, the room which houses so many good memories, I know I will. “Yes. This was my first home.”

“We had some good times, didn’t we?”

“We did.” This trip down memory lane might do Sam some good. So he can realize this is really over. “I’ll miss it too. And you,” he adds apprehensively, gauging how I’ll react to his honesty.

I shouldn’t feel guilty. Sam will always be an integral part of my past. “I’ll miss you too.” But he’s holding my hand a little too tightly, and it feels wrong to be touching him for so long, so I gently slide it out from under his. The awkwardness returns, but I doubt it ever left.

Needing something to do, I turn my cell over to see that it’s a little past seven. Saxon hasn’t texted or called, and I have no idea where he is. Has he forgotten about our date? Knowing Saxon, he’s probably waiting for me, giving me the time I need to sort myself out.

Sam notices me looking at my screen. “Expecting a call?”

Flipping it back over, I nod. “Yes.” I don’t see the need to tell him who. But Sam has always been able to read me like a book.

“If you’re waiting on Saxon, I heard him on the phone with Sophia.”

“What?” I can’t keep the bite from my tone.

Sam nods, casually sipping his beer. “You were talking to Anna. I went outside to feed the horses and heard him having a heated discussion with her. From what I could tell, I think she was giving him a hard time.”

“Crap,” I curse, my stomach instantly twisting in knots.

“I didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he said something about her calling you a whore?” I bite my lip, never feeling more ashamed. “I’m pretty certain he was going over there to give her a piece of his mind. It didn’t sound pretty. He will probably be a while.”

Goddammit. Why didn’t he tell me?

I know I’ve been busy, and he probably didn’t want to interrupt, but this is important. “Don’t be angry with him. I’d have done the same thing. Just let them have it out. It’s the only way she’ll get over it and move on.”

Is that what I’ve done with him? My head instantly throbs, and I rub both temples.

“How about I order some pizza, and we can write out a list of what’s next?” When I hesitate, he smirks. “I know how much you love lists.”

Every bone in my body is telling me to go find Saxon, but my good sense kicks in because Sam is right. Wasn’t I the one who told him to talk to Sophia? That he owed her that? Looks like my words have come back to bite me in the ass.

“Pepperoni with pineapple?”

“You remember?” My surprise is clear.

Sam stands with a smile. “How could I forget that fucking disgusting combination?”

A laugh escapes me. I never thought I’d hear Sam’s laugh in my presence ever again. It feels good to experience this small slice of normality with him. “Add anchovies and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

He screws up his face while I continue to chuckle. He hunts through the junk drawer, as we called it, which contains everything from menus to thumbtacks. When he produces the menu to Paulo’s, a wave of nostalgia rolls over me.

I recall when we came back from the hospital, it was one of the only memories Sam remembered. He remembered our favorite pizza place, but he couldn’t remember me.

He places the order while I lean forward and guzzle my wine. This will all be over with, and soon, so why does it feel like things have only just begun?

My barely touched pizza sits in front of me as I check my phone for the ten thousandth time. It’s almost midnight, and I have yet to hear from Saxon.

If what Sam overheard was indeed true, Saxon has been with Sophia for over seven hours. What in god’s name could they be talking about? A lump forms in my throat.

Sam has been great, and we manage to organize most of our affairs without too many arguments or awkward silences. But my mind has been elsewhere—it’s been with Saxon. I know I should give him space and not smother him, but I’m starting to worry.

As Sam rises to grab another beer, I decide to send Saxon a quick text. Looks like we’ll have to take a rain check on our date.

I should leave him be because this is a sensitive matter and things take time, but something doesn’t feel right. I know I’m probably just being paranoid, but nonetheless, I’ll feel better once I hear from Saxon.

My cell chirps and I almost leap from my stool. Loooks tha wayz… I purse my lips, looking over the message twice, just in case I’m seeing things. After spending several hours staring at the computer, it’s a good possibility I’ve gone cross-eyed.

But when I re-read it three times, it reads like a five-year-old has gotten a hold of Saxon’s cell. Where are you? I quickly type, my fingers barely able to keep up.

Sam takes a seat at the counter, looking at the cell gripped tightly in my palm. “Everything all right?” I nod quickly, too quickly, giving away my guilt. But when my cell chimes, I couldn’t care less that my poker face blows ass.

On our dayte.

Saxon is on a date? With who? Sophia? Wherever he is, he’s clearly drunk. Bile rises, and I jump from my seat, ready to stab them both in their eyeballs. “Whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Where are the keys?” I ask, throwing pieces of paper off the kitchen counter to find the car keys.

“Lucy, calm down.” But I can’t be calm. Not until I find Saxon and find out what the hell is going on.

“Here.” Sam holds up the keys. They’re cupped in his palm. Without hesitation, I lunge forward and snatch them from him. “You’ve had too much to drink. Let me drive you.” I stopped drinking hours ago.

That suggestion makes me even more nauseous than I already am. “I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

As I stuff my cell into my back pocket, Sam tries to comfort me. But I’m past that. “He’s a big boy.”

“I know that!” I snap, instantly feeling like a bitch for biting his head off. When he frowns, clearly wounded, I attempt to make amends. “I’m sorry, Sam, but I have to go.”

“Whatever,” he replies, turning his back. I’ve just undone all the progress we’ve made, but I can think about that tomorrow because right now, I need to find Saxon.

Running to the Jeep, I reply to Saxon’s ambiguous text. I’m coming. Tell me where you are.

I start the engine, not really sure where I’m headed. I could always go to Sophia’s. If Saxon’s bike is out front, then at least I’ll know where he is.

The wait is torture. I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, willing my phone to ring. When the screen lights up, I actually yelp in relief. However, his response just gives me a belly ache. Ridin a bull.

Riding a bull? Does he mean that literally? Oh god, I cover my mouth to hold back the vomit. Is Sophia riding him… like a bull? He’s drunk and she’s a scorned woman on the warpath. What better way to get her revenge?

This can’t be happening.

As tears prick my eyes and I slam the steering wheel in anger, a shooting star flashes across the clear sky, a sure sign from above. “Think,” I whisper to myself. Saxon would never cheat on me. I know that. But where the hell is he? And why is he riding a bull…

Another shooting star, a chaser, burns brightly, almost skywriting what I knew to be true but needed the push to unearth what was there all along.

Putting the car into gear, I tear down the driveway, thanking the universe for once again being my guiding light.

The moment I turn down the dirt road and see the glowing hue from the barn, I breathe out a sigh of relief. I made it. Saxon brought me here to Sawbuck Saloon when Sam and I had one of our many fights. Back then, I thought I knew what complicated meant. I now know that was a walk in the park compared to the clusterfuck I find myself in.

I park the car, not even bothering to lock it as I jump from the driver’s seat, intent on finding Saxon. The patrons outside, having a smoke, are chilled, the atmosphere calm, and if I were in a better mood, I would stop and reminisce, but I can do that after I find my man.

Once I enter, I stop in the doorway, surveying my surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of Saxon. The honky-tonk bar is in full swing. Johnny Cash plays over the speakers. The tattered cowboy boots still dangle from the ceiling. The fairy lights sparkle brightly, but it does nothing to lighten my mood.

Standing on my tippy toes, I hope I can find Saxon among the sea of nameless faces packed in this place. I peer over to the right, hoping to find him riding the mechanical bull—the one I rode and totally owned—but instead, I find some blonde living out her cowgirl dreams.

He has to be here. I clued onto his whereabouts when he mentioned the bull, and I can only hope I’m right. When we first came here, it wasn’t a date, but looking back, I suppose it was something more than just two friends hanging out and grabbing a beer. There always has been “something more” between us. I was just too stubborn and blind to see it.

“Dang it,” I mumble under my breath, moving aside when a couple pushes past me.

Reaching for my phone in my back pocket, I’m about to dial Saxon, but when I hear a mighty roar and the infamous “Chug! Chug! Chug!” chant, I suddenly get a sense of where he might be.

Excusing myself through the throngs of people, I walk to the back of the room where I see a mass of about fifteen people, milling around a barrel acting as a makeshift table. Empty glasses litter the top and standing dead center is none other than my boyfriend.

He looks like utter shit. His hair is snarled into angry peaks and the gray t-shirt he wears has spots of booze down the front where he’s missed his mouth. A glass fit for a giant rises to his lips as he does what the crowd has asked and chugs down the beer as if it’s his last meal. My attention instantly flickers to the handsy brunette by his side. Squinting, I see that she’s his ex-girlfriend, Laura Rose.

Saxon mentioned her briefly, and honestly, I don’t remember her all that much. What I do remember is her reputation, which seems to have followed her into adulthood because the pathetic excuse of a dress she’s wearing hints she’s still a promiscuous woman with her eyes set on Saxon.

Tying my hair into a top knot, ready for battle if need be, I stalk over to where Saxon stands, arms raised in triumph as he finishes his drink. Laura stands on tippy toes and kisses him on the cheek. Oh my freaking lord, forgive me, for I’m about to sin.

I look so out of place in my coverall shorts, stripy t-shirt, and Chucks, but I’m ready to kick some ass. Beefy buffoons slap Saxon on the back, egging him on to drink more, but the sway of his swagger reveals he’s had more than enough.

“Enjoying our date?” I quip, pushing through three sleazy men who almost coat me in their beers. If they so much as touch me, I will knee them where the sun don’t shine.

Saxon’s glassy eyes attempt to focus, and when they do, I stand directly in front of him, arms folded. “Luceee,” he slurs, attempting to hug me, but all he does is flop on top of me like a flailing fish.

“Let’s get you home.” I try to steady him, but he’s so damn heavy. I wrap an arm around his waist, but he almost takes me to the floor with him.

He reaches for the wall, regaining balance. God, he reeks of beer and cigarettes and nasty hooker perfume. “I missed you, baby. Come have a drink with me.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” I reply, still locked to his side.

“I didn’t realize you had a curfew, Sax. The boy I knew in high school didn’t obey any rules.” That catty voice just adds to my already frayed nerves, and I glare at Laura.

Her dress is white, but she may as well be covered in Saran Wrap. I’m pretty sure she’s naked beneath. To know her lips and hands have been all over Saxon has me wanting to give him a bath…in bleach. “Well, he’s not that boy anymore. Thankfully, he’s seen the error of his ways.” That pun is directed at her, and she knows it.

Scowling, she flicks her long hair over her shoulder. “Why are you here, anyway? Aren’t you living the perfect life with his brother?”

Saxon instantly freezes and pushes off the wall. “I need a drink.”

I grab his forearm. “Saxon, please.” I implore for him to stop whatever the hell this is and come home with me. But he doesn’t.

“Please what?” he spits, ripping his arm out from under my fingers. “I’m here to have a good time. I was supposed to be having that with you, but instead, you decide to spend the night with my fucking brother!” The crowd quiets, sensing the evolution of a full-blown Jerry Springer episode.

“It’s not like that, and you know it. I was working.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he was working too… He was working you.” He pushes past me, heading toward the bar. But no, screw him, I won’t allow him to make me feel guilty for something I didn’t do.

I run in front of him, blocking his path. He’s drunk and unsteady on his feet, so he doesn’t stand a chance. “You need to get it through your thick head that no one is working anybody.” When he scoffs and attempts to push past me, I latch onto his bicep. “Don’t you dare walk away from me. I’m sorry if it looked like I stood you up, but Sam told me…” The moment his name slips past my lips, Saxon’s cheeks ignite.

“Oh, what did the almighty Sam say?” He spreads his arms out wide, waiting for me to explain. I don’t appreciate his attitude one iota.

“Stop being such a jerk and listen to me!”

“I’ve heard enough,” he snarls, brushing past me as he storms to the bar.

“Saxon!” But I know when to pick my fights, and this will just end in a full-blown battle if I don’t let him calm down.

Taking a deep breath, I decide to wait for him outside because the loud music and even louder partygoers are giving me a headache. I push past the drunk patrons, about ready to smack the next person who touches my ass.

“And here I thought I knew how to live it up. You put me to shame.” I spin around quickly, eyes narrowed.

“I’m nothing like you,” I spit at Laura, who sips a beer arrogantly.

“I think we’re exactly alike.” She steps too close for comfort, but I stand my ground. “We’re both aggressive, confident women who know what we want.”

“And what do I want?” I decide to humor her.

When she leans in close, her sickly sweet breath coating my cheeks, I suddenly have the urge to flee and curse my confidence. “You want to be worshiped, adored by every man in this town.” She runs two fingers along my neck, but I flick her hand away. “This innocent, naïve Pollyanna look works in your favor. I’m sure you’ve got all the boys eating out of the palm of your hand.”

I stand like a deer in headlights, stunned. That is not me…at all.

My response time is sluggish, due to the fact Laura just threw me for a loop. But when she attempts to kiss me, I get back in the game and yank backward, horrified and appalled at her suggestion. “This isn’t a look.” I grab the denim of my coveralls. “This is me, and I’m offended you’d even suggest I’m some bar hopping whore. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

I shoulder past her, but stop dead in my tracks. “It wasn’t a suggestion. C’mon, two brothers… I bow down to you. You’ve got a secret weapon between your legs, honey. Use it. Maybe we can teach one another a thing or two. Or better yet, combine forces with those twins you hold under your spell.”

I literally see red. I’m a possessed woman as I turn and shove my face into hers. Her smirk reveals she likes the aggression. “Go fuck yourself,” I snarl, insulted, but more so, I can’t shake the feeling that maybe she’s right. I have slept with both Sam and Saxon. If that doesn’t scream whore, then I don’t know what does.

My slur doesn’t offend Laura. If anything, it turns her on. She licks her glossy lips. “Or better yet… how about I fuck your boyfriend? He didn’t seem to mind when I rubbed up against his coc…”

I don’t allow such filth to spew from her lips because I smack her cheek so hard, I’m certain I’ve just broken my hand. But it’s worth the pain. The crowd claps, cajoling us to fight, but I refuse to entertain her a second longer.

Focused solely on the exit, I know if I don’t leave this instant, I won’t be held accountable for my actions. I run down the three wooden steps and take a deep breath when the fresh air fills my lungs. I don’t feel any better, and angry tears arise. I just want to go home.

“Hey there, pretty thang. Need a ride?” says a voice, feet away.

Now that I’m semi sane, I see that I’m in the parking lot alone. An amorous couple makes out on the porch, but they are seconds away from getting naked, so I’m on my own.

Standing in front of me, the hulking man blocks the path to my car. My stomach fills with dread because he screams serial killer. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” I attempt to push past him, but his hand shoots out lightning quick. “Let me go!” I sneer, not in the mood to be manhandled.

But he only tightens his grip. “I’ll let you go when you come to my truck.” I don’t have a chance to speak because he begins to drag me toward a pickup.

“Get off me!” I scream, flailing like a madwoman, but it’s fruitless. He has about a hundred pounds on me.

“Oh, I’ll be getting off… in that tight pussy.”

His threat should frighten me, but it does the complete opposite. I want to rip out his eyeballs and neuter him with my bare hands. “You fucking asshole!” I dig in my heels, the gravel beneath my feet biting into my soles, but if I don’t fight, I have no doubt he’ll make good on his promise.

“Keep fighting. I like it when they play rough.” He lunges for me, trying to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder, but by the grace of god, I manage to rip free. Just as I raise my knee to ensure he doesn’t assault anyone else ever again, a flash and an ear-splitting thud sparks to my left.

I spin but yelp when the asshole in front of me stumbles backward, a spurt of red pulsating from his lip—the lip where Saxon just landed a right hook.

“You motherfucker!” Saxon roars, charging at the guy. Like a bullet from a gun, he’s intent on killing him. He knocks him to the ground, drops to one knee, pins his shoulder, and then proceeds to hit him repeatedly. He doesn’t seem to care where he connects, just as long as he makes him bleed.

“Stop!” The gravel kicks out from under me as I run to where Saxon delivers the brutal blows. “Saxon! Stop! You’ll kill him!” But I think that’s the point. He ignores me, and every time my attacker attempts to rise, Saxon brings his fist down, slamming him into the ground.

My screams have stirred a crowd, who all just stand around, watching and enjoying the show. “Call the police!” I yell, yanking on Saxon’s raised arm, trying to stop his next strike. But he shakes me off, crazed. The force sends me flying, and my ass hits the gravel with a thud.

The pained grunt which leaves me seems to snap Saxon from his violence, and he turns, mid strike, his eyes widening when he sees me sprawled on the ground, tears welling. “Oh god…” he gasps, peering back and forth between me and the unconscious, bloody man beneath him. “What have I done?”

Scrubbing the blood from his hands, he scrambles toward me, and instinctively, I shrink backward. He’s wild-eyed, and at this moment, he scares me. A blanket of sorrow falls over him, and he raises his hands in surrender.

“I’m sorry. I won’t hurt you. You know that.” He’s kneeling, pleading with me, his features contorted in utter anguish. “Lucy…”

The whirlwind of events smashes into me, and I bring my knees toward my chest, hugging them tight. I just need a minute to catch my breath.

Flashes of my childhood, of being whipped unconscious flicker brightly, and I whimper. My scars begin to itch. “Are you all right?” asks a gentle voice. I don’t even have the strength to look up.

“Yes,” I mumble, my cheek pressed to my knee. The past is the past. Leave it where it belongs. “Was this man bothering you?”

“I’m her fucking boyfriend!” Saxon spits, but his voice sounds miles away.

My heart is still racing, the adrenaline still whooshing through my veins, but once I’ve calmed, I turn my cheek to look at Saxon. He’s still on his knees, begging I forgive him. The look breaks my heart. “Sam told me he overheard you on the phone with Sophia,” I whisper, continuing from where we left off. I need to make sense of what just happened.

Saxon’s demeanor instantly changes, and he swoops forward, both fingers clutching my upper arms. “It’s not like that,” he quickly says, his desperation beseeching I believe him. “I did what you asked. I explained everything. You said I owed her that, and you were right. Nothing else happened.”

“I know that,” I affirm, gently rubbing over his death grip on my bicep.

“You do?” I nod. “How?”

With ease, I tenderly remove his trembling fingers from my arms because he’s hurting me. What’s left in their wake are smears of blood. “Because I trust you. Just how you should trust me.” I was stupid for thinking, even for a fraction of a second, that Saxon was with Sophia that way. I know him. I know he loves me.

He works his lip, tonguing over his scar. “Why didn’t you call me? I was waiting. For hours.”

“Because I figured you and Sophia had unfinished business, and I didn’t want to interrupt. Why didn’t you call me?”

He sighs heavily. “Same reason. I thought I’d have a couple of drinks and wait for you to call. I came here because I know how much fun you had last time. I waited and waited, and when you didn’t call…I started to think the worst. Hence, why I thought getting wasted was a good idea at the time.”

We were both giving the other space, but it appears we didn’t know how much space to give. Let this be a lesson learned.

“Saxon…” I pause, needing him to believe me because I don’t think I have the strength to relive tonight. “I love you. I choose you. But if we’re going to make this work, then you have to trust me. I know this entire situation is completely fucked up, but I’m doing it so we can move on. Together. I should have called you. I’m sorry. I’m also sorry for thinking you were here with Sophia.” I don’t see the point in hiding my original thought.

He screws up his nose. “With Sophia? Why would I be here with her?” My silence explains my suspicions. “Lucy… god, no.” He shakes his head animatedly, pressing both palms against my cheeks. “I would never touch her.”

“I know that now. But for a moment there, I thought that maybe…”

“Baby, what?” His term of endearment warms my heart.

“That maybe you thought I wasn’t worth the hassle.” Now that no one else is drawing blood, the crowd disperses and leaves us be.

His pain is visible, painted all over his skin. But I know it’s the wounds within, the ghosts of his past which hurt him the most. With the slowest of movements, he sweeps me onto his lap so I’m straddling him. “Don’t you ever, ever think that. I’m the one who isn’t worth shit. You’re good, Lucy. So good. I know why you’re doing this with Sam. I’m just…scared.”

“Scared?” He nods. “Of what?”

Tears begin to form, and each one stabs at my very core. “Of losing you. I’m scared you’ll wake up one day and question your choice. You loved Sam, and I know a small part of you always will. You have history. I can’t compete with that.”

“Saxon… no. We have history too.” I thread my fingers through his hair, drawing us nose to nose. “You will never lose me. I belong to you. I always have. Being with you makes me so…happy. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. You are my soul mate. You always have been. I don’t want to fight anymore. I just want this to be over. And to do that…”

He places his finger to my lips, nodding. “I know. Just please…don’t leave me.” When a tear rolls down his cheek, it’s my undoing, and I sob, throwing my arms around his neck.

His confession reflects what he’s experienced—the deep sorrow he’s felt his entire life. His family deserted him. His brother lied, betraying him in unforgivable ways. It would make sense for him to think I would eventually do the same. But I’m not like anyone else. I know what it’s like to reach rock bottom. I’ve lived it. And I would never do that to him. Now or ever.

“I won’t leave you,” I promise between my tears. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He buries his face in the crook of my neck, hugging me tighter than he ever has before.

They say real men don’t cry—well, whoever said that could take a flying leap. This right here is beautiful, and honest, and cathartic.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing my neck, my temple, my hair. “Please forgive me. I overreacted. I just…I wanted to kill that fucker for laying a finger on you. And I would have…I surrender everything I am to you. I love you.”

I stay nestled in his lap when the police arrive, providing them with the details of everything that happened. They commend Saxon on his heroic actions, and when asked if I wanted to press charges, I said hell yes.

I’m way too exhausted to drive, and Saxon is way too drunk, so we catch a cab. On the ride home, I never let go of Saxon, nor does he of me. I have no idea what tomorrow holds, but I can only hope we’ll face it together.