The red digits of the alarm glare at me, reading five o’clock in the morning. I’ve been staring at it for over an hour now, trying to force myself to go back to sleep. My body is tired, desperate for rest, but my brain is too active. It insists on turning things over and over, pointless unnecessary things that I wish would leave me in peace. Did I properly tighten the lug nuts on that sedan yesterday? How was Piper’s day at work? She’s been working a lot recently. Is she trying to avoid me? I gave her good reason to...

I finally give up, cussing under my breath as I fling back the covers. There’s no point fighting it anymore, so I decide to get a jump start on my day. A hot shower helps to ease some of the fog, then I throw on a pair of sweat pants and a loose t-shirt and head downstairs for breakfast.

The only thing that seems to help get me out of my own head is going to the gym. It allows me to focus on the burn, to let me push my body to the point that all the other shit threatening to overwhelm me is cleared out. I’ve been going a lot, just about every morning now, running through a basic fitness routine. It’s no where near as stringent as my military training, but it’s definitely more intense than what the average guy could handle.

I’m thinking too much about Piper again. She haunts my dreams, tangling within the mix of horrific nightmares that have plagued me since I was rescued. She comes to me when I’m reliving my darkest moments, always saving me right before the worst comes. Without fail, I wake up every time I see her pretty face. I’m grateful for that, even though she has no idea that she’s the only thing keeping me sane. Just like she was the one thing that kept me alive for the past three years.

It was the thought of her that saved me. At first it was just the thought of finally being with her, of holding her to my chest and kissing her sweet lips, that helped me fight every day. When it was over, when I knew I was going to make it home, I was sure she had moved on. It had been four years since I shipped out, I wouldn’t have blamed her for finding someone else.

An even worse thought was that she hadn’t found anyone. That she would be waiting for me, after all this time, expecting to welcome home the same man that left so long ago. But that man is gone. Dead. I’m just a shell of what I was – full of anger and regret.

I almost wish she had found someone in the time since I’d disappeared. It would have been much easier to move on. I certainly never expected to come home to find that Piper was every bit as lost as I am… or to have her under the same roof.

Whatever happened to her dreams and ambitions? How she could possibly be in the same place she was before I left.

Piper always said that working at the bar was temporary until she got her start, but here she is four years later, caught in the same rut. Knowing she’s been stuck here with her life on pause makes me upset. I almost want to tell her to get her shit together, to embrace her talents and be the kick-ass woman she’s capable of being. But it’s not my place to say that to her. That’s a conversation that should come from a close friend, and we haven’t been that close in a very long time. Besides, I have to keep a solid and impenetrable wall between us if I’m ever going to remain strong enough to resist her.

Even that might not be enough…

Last week she came downstairs in nothing but a raggedy old shirt that barely covered her round, bare ass. I could see her perky tits through the threadbare material and I almost lost myself right then and there. The temptation to bend her over the table, spank her ass cheeks until they turned pink and then give her a fuck she’d never forget took all of my willpower to overcome – stepsister or not. Hell, if that were the only obstacle between us. I couldn’t give a fuck about it. My mother would understand…

Maybe.

Finishing my set, I glance at the time and know I need to hurry to be on time for work. I grab a towel, dry off my hair and sweat from my body as a few more early birds begin to arrive and start their own work out. Perfect time for me to get out of here, especially since I’m already starting to attract some stares again.

I head out to the old Ford Ranger I bought. Getting wheels back under me was part of regaining my independence. It might not be much to look at, but the old truck was good enough to get me around town. Besides, I was sick of bumming rides from Leo.

I’m no more than a step or two across the parking lot before I’m approached by a man who is almost a head shorter than me. His hair is a dish water blond color and he has gray eyes that gleam as he looks snidely at me. I instantly have the urge to slug him in the face, though I can’t exactly put my finger on why. He has one of those faces, and I’m in one of those moods. The cold air that fills my lungs with each breath isn’t helping. I have no interest in stopping for this guy.

“Matthew Pierce?” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised at having bumped into me. Maybe I misread that first look on his face, but I’m still in no mood for this conversation. The last thing I need is to hear someone tell me how brave and courageous I am. I don’t think I’ll ever get to a point where hearing what an amazing patriot I am won’t make me want to smash something.

“It’s Stew Bradford,” he drops the name like I’m supposed to know who he is. I haven’t a fucking clue. “From high school,” he elaborates, “I was a year behind you, you probably don’t remember.” He holds out his hand and I grudgingly shake it, forcing a smile on my face.

“Oh, yeah, Bradford, I played hockey with your older brother.”

He squeezes my hand tightly, too tight for just a friendly handshake. It’s almost like he’s trying to prove that he’s just as tough as I am.

He starts right in talking about his brother Jeff, and how he went missing down South last year. I guess he thinks that makes him an expert on missing relatives. He goes on and on about it, telling me how he can relate to what my mother experienced, and how the whole town felt the shock wave of my disappearance. Turns out his brother went on a trip to New Orleans to see some chick he met on the internet and spent a few months in a shotgun shack high out of his mind on heroin.

“The town’s support means a lot. Sorry to hear about Jeff.” I try to sound sincere, but I just want to get the hell out of here.

“Thank you, brother,” Stew claps my shoulder, a twisted grin turning up the edges of his mouth. “Wow you’re built like a truck, aren’t ya?”

Shrugging away from his hand I take a step toward the truck. “I’ll see ya around,” I lie, hoping I never have to look at his slack-jawed mug again.

“Oh, before you go,” he stops me before I can get much farther. “How’s Piper doing? I hear you two are staying together…”

The mention of her name sets me even further on edge. Subconsciously, I curl one hand into a fist at my side, jaw tightening. I don’t like this guy and I don’t like him talking about Piper. Especially when he has that look in his eyes. It’s like he’s daring me to do something stupid, testing to see how I react… Suddenly it hits me. Is this guy Piper’s boyfriend?

I haven’t seen her with anyone, but maybe she’s just keeping things quiet? It seems unlikely. In this town, everyone knows everyone’s business. If she had a boyfriend, I would have heard about it.

“Must be great to have a nice girl like that around the house…” The way he says ‘nice’, I know he’s not talking about her character.

“She’s a sweetheart, but we stay out of each other’s way,” I reply, taking a step back from him.

“I think it’d be best if you keep on doing that.”

His grin fades away, and there’s something threatening about his entire posture. A little shiver runs up my spine. This little shit is gunning for Piper, and he’s feeling me out to see if I’m going to be a problem.

The thought of this scum touching her, so much as looking at her… it makes my temper flare to new heights. I grind my teeth together, tightening my fist. Every fiber of me wants to grab him by the collar and let him know that Piper belongs to me.

Some shred of conscience pulls me back from the edge. Piper isn’t mine and even if she were, I know she wouldn’t want me to hurt someone for barking up her tree. Pretty girls attract attention, and the last thing she needs is some asshole to go around acting like a jealous boyfriend.

Taking a slow, deep breath, I force myself to relax, stomping on the bubbling acid to keep it from turning me into a raging beast. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply, my tone tight.

I turn and walk off, determined to get in my truck and hurry home so I can grab a quick shower and go into the shop. Outside of the gym, the shop is my only sanctuary. Leo, bless his heart, gave me a key a few days after I bought the Ford. He told me I had free run of the place outside of the hours of operation. I’d spent several late nights and one blissful weekend lost inside the garage, taking time fixing up the minor issues on my truck.

Climbing behind the wheel, I shove the key into the ignition and turn it over. The little pickup comes to life and I head to the house. With a little luck, Leo will let me work the service bay full time. Not that I mind helping in the office, but doing paperwork and dealing with customers doesn’t help me relax.

I need to convince him that I’m perfectly capable of menial labor. The encounter with Stew has me on edge and completely erased my morning workout. Nothing sounds better than losing myself in something at the shop, even a simple oil change. I have to get Piper out of my head again.