I heard the rumble of the engine get louder as the truck got closer. The crunch of rocks under tires became more pronounced as it approached, but I didn’t care. I didn’t turn around to look and I didn’t stop walking. I just hunched my shoulders, tucked my chin against my chest, and kept going. When I heard it slow down as it got closer to me, I thought for a second about turning around to shout, Go away! Leave me alone! There was not a single person I wanted to see or talk to at that moment.

But that was before I heard the voice, the voice of the one person I hadn’t considered I might encounter on the road at that time of night.

“Need a ride?”

Dane James.

I’d never been so relieved. But I’d never been more embarrassed either. That’s why my tone was sharp and clipped when I answered.

“No.” I couldn’t help that waspishness any more than I could help the size of the moon or the temperature of the air.

There was a long pause as I kept walking. Part of me hoped he’d take the hint and go on. But another part of me needed him not to.

When he finally spoke, I could hear the grin in his voice. “You sure about that? I could drop you off at the rock if that would make you feel better.”

The thought of the rock, our rock, and of being there with him, was too painful to think of, especially on a night like this one. It didn’t help that, when I whipped my head around, I saw his face highlighted by the dashboard lights. He looked like a phantom. A beautiful phantom that I couldn’t touch and couldn’t have, and for a second, I was mad at him for even existing.

Bitterness churned in my gut.

Damn him!

Damn this town and everyone in it!

“Dane James, what are you doing out here in the middle of the night? Driving, no less!”

I knew I sounded like a prude as I chastised him, but Momma had drummed propriety and obedience into me so relentlessly, I hardly had to think before I spoke anymore.

Hardly.

“This is a farm use truck. I’m allowed to drive it.”

“On a farm. Not on the wide-open roads. And haven’t you already been in trouble for this a couple of times?”

His grin was incorrigible. “It’s only a problem if I get caught. So I won’t get caught.”

“Won’t get caught again, you mean?”

He shrugged before he turned the conversation back to me. “Seems like I should be asking you what you’re doing out here, walking by yourself in the middle of the night.”

He slowed to a stop. I did, too. I stepped over to the open window and, when his eyes raked over my face, I wished I hadn’t gotten so close. Not close enough for him to see my tears.

Dane’s lips thinned in fury. “What the hell, Brinkley? Whose ass am I gonna have to kick?”

To my utter humiliation, even as I shook my head, my chin began to tremble. For the second time in a few short years, Dane James was going to be the one to witness my shame and, evidently, I was powerless to stop it.

I heard the gears protest as Dane slammed into park and got out of the truck. Something about the way he moved, like he couldn’t get to me fast enough, made me think he was as afraid as he was mad.

I waited for him to come.

I wanted it.

Needed it.

Craved it.

He walked around in front of the headlights and took me by my upper arms, turning me to face him. When I wouldn’t meet his eyes, he took my chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced me to. Then he looked at me. Just stared. Everything that was going through his head was showing up in his eyes. Or at least it seemed to be. He was looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and like he wanted nothing more than to touch me for the rest of his life.

Or maybe that’s just what I wanted to see because it was what I was thinking. For as long as I’d been in Shepherd’s Mill, all I’d ever wanted was Dane James. And he was the one thing I couldn’t have.

I burst into tears right there on the spot. I couldn’t take his tenderness. I just couldn’t take it.

Why do you have to be forbidden? Why can’t you be the one?

In a voice as soft as the night breeze on my skin, he demanded, “Tell me what happened.”

My voice broke. “I hate this town.”

“I can’t help you there. I hate it, too. But what happened to bring the waterworks?”

I sniffled and used the heel of my hand to wipe errant tears from my cheeks. “I didn’t want to go out with him to begin with.”

I looked back up at Dane just in time to see the change in him. I saw rage, pure and fiery. I could feel the quiver in his muscles as he tried to hold his temper in check. His voice was even tight with the strain of it.

“Who? Go out with who?”

Dane and I ran in different circles. Different worlds. Lauren no longer needed him to gain access to whatever she wanted, so the chasm between Dane and me had grown wider with time. He was as oblivious to the goings on in my life as I was of his.

Until something happened.

Usually something bad.

It seemed that in times of pain, Dane and I found each other. It’s like we were joined by something much more important than the roles we had to play in this godforsaken town. I knew if he’d been the one in pain, I’d have rushed to his rescue. Just like he was rushing to mine. Lines and worlds and classes didn’t matter when we were hurting.

Dane and I…we were transcendent. Even though we didn’t speak or associate, there was something between us, something strong and beautiful, that we could never break. And neither of us tried.

But that didn’t change things out in the rest of the world. In the world of Shepherd’s Mill, we were as far apart as two people could possibly be.

That made me angry all over again. “It doesn’t matter. Just take me home, will you?” Before he released me, however, I met his eyes. They were dark and fathomless in the night, and I knew I owed him more than just my anger. “Please.”

I could see him deliberating, probably between going to beat the crap out of something, and doing as I asked. But in the end, his loyalty to me won out. “Sure. Hop in.”

He opened the passenger door and helped me into the truck then rounded the front again to scoot behind the wheel. The air inside the truck was warm, like a cocoon, and it smelled exactly like its driver—like summer nights and pine trees and soap.

Neither of us said anything for a couple of miles. It was like Dane knew I needed space and he was giving it. There were no sounds other than the grumble of the road beneath us and the muffled sound of Bryan Adams crackling through the busted speaker in the dash.

I waited for what felt like ages for Dane to speak, but he didn’t. After all this time, he knew me. Still. And just like he knew I needed space, he probably knew I’d start spilling my guts eventually. He just had to bide his time, and Dane was, if nothing else, patient.

At least he was with me.

“I told her I didn’t want to go out with him,” I blurted.

“Who are we talking about?”

“My stupid mother. She kept after me to go out with Taylor Kraus. I didn’t really want to, but she kept on and on and on until his mother said something about me coming over. Then I couldn’t say no. I went to watch movies at his house a few times, which was fine. I mean, I guess it was okay.” I felt Dane glance over at me, so I studied the fingers that I fiddled with restlessly on my lap. “He seemed nice enough, even if I didn’t like him that way. But tonight…tonight…”

Dane didn’t say a word, but the tension as he waited for me to finish hung between us like a curtain, stiff and unforgiving. I couldn’t continue. I was too ashamed. Too embarrassed.

That’s when he prompted me. “What happened, Brinkley?”

I could hear the dread in his question. He was thinking the worst. Thank God it wasn’t that.

I turned to look out the window, a sigh waving out from between my lips like a white flag of surrender.

“It’s not what you think. It wasn’t…that. His parents are gone for the weekend. I didn’t know that until I was already over there. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have gone. But I didn’t know, so…” Another sigh. “He put the moves on me. I told him no. He didn’t try to force me or anything. He just told me that if I wasn’t going to put out, I could just leave. He wasn’t going to waste his time on a girl like me if I wasn’t going to give him something in return.”

“A girl like you? What the hell does that mean?”

“I guess I’m not good enough.”

I knew Dane was all too familiar with the concept. The thing was, he didn’t care.

But I did.

I had to.

It was the way of life in Shepherd’s Mill, and my momma had raised me to live and breathe it.

“He wishes he could have a girl like you.” He twisted his fingers around the steering wheel, wringing it like maybe he was wishing he could be wringing Taylor Kraus’ neck, then spat, “Asshole.”

I found the thought strangely comforting. Not Dane strangling Taylor, but him protecting me. I knew there was nothing either of us could do about our feelings, but just knowing that Dane was out there, maybe at the rock looking up at the same sky I was seeing, always brought me a sense of peace that nothing else could. And deep down, I knew that if I needed him, like really needed him, he would come.

He would always come to save me.

“I thought at first he was joking. I mean, who says things like that? Out loud!”

“Inconsiderate shit-for-brains,” he supplied vehemently.

“But he wasn’t joking. At all. That’s really all he wanted me for. A girl like me. I guess that’s all I’m worth. The only thing I have to offer a guy like him.” Before I could let those words sink in, I shook them off. I didn’t want to think about that part of the night anymore. “Anyway, he wouldn’t bring me home, so I walked.”

“What the hell does a guy like that know about what you’re worth? He’s a snot-nosed rich kid who’s never had to work for anything a day in his life. He doesn’t even know how to appreciate a girl like you.”

“A girl like me.” Resentment churned in my stomach. “You mean a girl whose mother is a gold-diggin’ whore? You mean a girl who grew up poor, but was always taught to pretend not to be? You mean a girl who has popular friends only because of who her mom sleeps with at night? That kind of girl?”

The words dripped from my lips like acid, and they burned everything they touched

“Brinkley, what the hell? Who’s been feeding you this shit?”

I jerked my head toward him, eyes blazing. “You mean who’s been feeding me the truth? Because that’s what it is, Dane. It’s the truth. My mother is a whore. Because she did marry Alton because of his money. And she did raise me to act like we weren’t poor. And I do only have friends because of who my stepfather is. There’s no denying it because it’s all true. I’m one step up from white trash. I’m just pretending that I’m not. No marriage or bank account or country club will ever change that.”

My chest was heaving by the time I got done. Dane, however, seemed to calm.

“Money, popularity, the right last name—those things don’t define who you are. You aren’t your mother. You don’t have to live your life according to her mistakes or her beliefs. You’re Brinkley Sommers. You’re smart, beautiful, funny. Be your own person. Don’t let any of them dictate your decisions. And don’t let any of them, don’t let anyone in the whole damn world, tell you what you’re worth.”

I heard what he was saying, but I didn’t believe it. Long before he even called them out, the truth of Taylor’s words had already been etched onto one dark corner of my soul. Taylor just shed light on them.

“Besides, you’re not that much like her. Even your ass is better.”

“My ass?”

“Yep. You’ve got one helluvan ass. I bet your mother never had an ass like that. She sure as shit doesn’t now.”

It took a few seconds for his words to penetrate, and when they did, I couldn’t help smiling. As always, Dane knew exactly what I needed.

As always, Dane was what I needed.

“You’ve looked at my mom’s ass?”

He grinned. “Your mom’s kinda hot. I might’ve checked out her ass at the grocery store a time or two.”

Laughing, I angled my upper body toward his, a wilting flower desperate for the heat of the sun. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged his wide, wide shoulders. “I’m a guy. A teenaged guy, no less. It’s what we do.”

“Disgusting,” I murmured with a shake of my head, even though I felt better than I had all night.

Maybe better than I had in a lot of nights.

It seemed like just as I was feeling better, I was home. The trip went by too fast. Our time together was already over.

Dane dropped me off at the end of the driveway so the truck’s loud rumble wouldn’t wake Momma. As he pulled away, I walked reluctantly toward the porch.

Then I paused.

Right in the middle of the driveway, I paused.

For a second, I actually reconsidered going in. I wished with all my heart that I could turn and chase after Dane, that I could spend the rest of the night with him instead. And maybe the night after that. And the night after that.

But that would be a disaster, of course.

My mother would have a fit. Not because she was a prude. It wasn’t that at all. She didn’t much care about my virginity. Her only concern was who took it and what happened after that, a fact she reiterated once again not long after I crept through the door.

“Who was it that dropped you off?” She was in the living room, just letting the curtain she’d pulled to the side drop as she stepped away from the window.

“Huh?” I played dumb to buy some time. I hadn’t made up a lie to tell, to excuse the fact that Dane James rather than Taylor Kraus brought me home. It never occurred to me she might’ve been watching. I mean, seriously, what were the odds that she’d be looking out the window at just the right time?

Not very good ones, I bet, but good enough that she won and I lost.

“You heard me, young lady. Taylor doesn’t have a truck. And neither does his father. I distinctly saw a truck pull out of our driveway and turn left. And left goes…”

I could see the wheels turn. She was piecing it together on her own. Our driveway emptied onto Route 16. Route 16 went two ways—right went back to town, left went to the fields, to Peterson land. The only people who went that way were either making deliveries or working the land.

Or they lived there.

And the truck went left.

“Who dropped you off, Brinkley Renee?” Her voice had become stern and shrill, which was unnerving. There was really no reason that she should’ve been so upset. Well, no rational reason. But I guess to someone like my mother—who saw only dollar signs and social statuses—this was cause for alarm.

I straightened my spine and lifted my chin. “Dane. Dane James brought me home.”

“Why?” It was like she couldn’t even conceive of a single reason that I might’ve found myself in his company. I, on the other hand, could’ve listed a dozen reasons I wanted to be in Dane’s company. I didn’t mention any of them, though. That would only make things worse. But I could’ve. Very easily. He was kind and sexy and soooo good-looking. And he was nothing like the people I spent most of my time with. That was undoubtedly what she objected to the most.

“Taylor wouldn’t bring me home, so I walked.”

“What? Why not? What did you do?”

There was a time when I would’ve been surprised by her jumping immediately to the conclusion that I was the one at fault. In fact, there was a time when she wouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion at all. But those times had passed. I knew where her priorities were—pleasing her rich husband, fitting in with the wealthy socialites, living the life she’d always wanted—and they sure as hell weren’t with me anymore. Momma was on a mission, and not even her daughter was going to stand in her way.

I made a pact right then and there that if I ever had a daughter, I would always choose her first, over everything and everybody else.

“I refused to have sex with him. How ridiculous am I?” Sarcasm seeped from my tongue.

I saw my mother’s lips thin and tighten as she processed what I’d said. When she finally spoke, she edged her way close enough to me that she could take my arms in a semi-maternal way. “There are worse things than losing your virginity to Taylor Kraus.” She paused to look hard into my eyes. “You are still a virgin, aren’t you?”

“Mom! Of course, I’m still a virgin!”

“Well, it’s the eighties. I had to ask.”

No. She didn’t have to ask. If she knew me at all…if she bothered to know me instead of only taking an interest in the disparity between what I was doing and what she thought I should be doing, she wouldn’t have had to ask.

“Well, you needn’t concern yourself. I’m still a virgin. And I plan on staying that way for a while.” I pulled slowly away from her, the emotional distance between us never so great or so hurtful.

“Not that my opinion matters,” she began, doing her best to look timid and caring, “but Taylor Kraus comes from good stock. If he got you pregnant, he’d do right by you. His father would see to it. You wouldn’t have to worry about what would become of you or your baby. You’d have security. For the rest of your life, you’d have security.”

My mouth dropped open. I wasn’t sure which part of that insane speech I wanted to, needed to, address first—the fact that she might be encouraging me to give my virginity to Taylor Kraus or the fact that she was insinuating I should use a baby to secure a rich husband.

It was no secret between us that she’d done whatever she’d had to do to land a wealthy man. Now she expected the same of me.

Most mothers dreamed of their daughters finding true love. Mine dreamed of me finding a millionaire.

It didn’t matter that I wanted to go to college, to make a life for myself that didn’t require a man to finance it. She’d already told me Alton wasn’t paying for that and I wasn’t smart enough to get a scholarship. The only other logical conclusion—at least to her and half the other people in this backwater, antiquated, chauvinistic town—was to marry for it.

“Mom, do you have any idea how completely screwed up everything you just said is?”

“Why?” She managed to look offended.

“Because I want to go to college. I want to make a life for myself. I don’t want to have to depend on any man.”

“That’s a wonderful dream, Brinkley, but it’s just that—a dream. I’m trying to help you keep your feet on the ground.”

“So I should sleep with someone and settle, is that it? That’s your advice?”

“Should I be telling you to wait for love? Should I be filling your head with nonsense that will get you nowhere in life when I could be giving you advice that will save you and your children a lifetime of heartache? Is it so wrong that I want the best for my child and my grandchildren? Is that so awful?”

How could she turn that around and make me feel guilty?

How?

Love, that’s how.

Momma knew I loved her. She was my mother and she was all I’d ever had, and no matter how much I disagreed with her ways, I would always do my best to make her happy, make her proud. And she knew it. I’d always do what she asked of me.

Except give my virginity to Taylor Kraus. Hell would have to freeze over first and I was pretty sure snow wasn’t in the forecast down there.

“No, of course not, but encouraging me to sleep with a guy and not even worry about getting pregnant just so I can trap him and have myself a posh life in a town like this is…is…God, Momma, that’s twisted! Can’t you see that?”

Harrumphing at the perceived slight I just dealt her, she backed away, wounded. “I do apologize for having a good life, for giving you a good life. I’m sorry that I want the same for you and yours. I’m obviously a monster.”

The sad thing was, she wasn’t a monster at all. I knew that, in her mind, she really thought she was doing what was best for me. And for herself as well. Can’t forget that. She thought the answer to all problems was money, so she did what she had to do to get it. Even if it meant marrying it. Prostituting herself, even though I knew she’d never see it that way.

But I saw it that way.

And others did, too.

Even more would if they could see the way Alton treated her around the house, always pawing at her and treating her like his own personal sex toy. Of course, I guess maybe she was. But Momma would never admit that there was anything wrong with what was between them. She believed what she believed, end of story.

Even now, she was actually hurt that I didn’t see her words as sweet and caring, that I didn’t regard them as sound advice. She couldn’t understand why I thought her decisions were anything less than perfectly acceptable. How could she be so deluded? What had happened in her life to make her this way?

Mom had never told me much about her past. It was obvious she didn’t like talking about her childhood and both my grandparents were dead, so I had no one else to ask. Evidently, they’d been very, very poor, though. Things must not have changed much when she met my father. She rarely talked about him either. I don’t know if it hurt her to remember him or if she was glad he left. I would’ve liked to know more, but it upset her when I brought it up. She wouldn’t talk about his parents either, other than to say I was better off without them anywhere near me. I had no choice but to take her word for it, and eventually I just stopped asking. It didn’t really matter now anyway. Getting answers wouldn’t change a single thing.

I sighed, tired and defeated for the moment. It had been a long night, and now I just wanted to forget about all the stupid societal rules and regulations around here and just be myself. Even if it was only temporary and it had to be done alone, in my room.

“You’re not a monster, Momma. I just…I just had a bad night. I’ll feel better tomorrow, I’m sure. Go to bed. That’s what I’m gonna do.”

I gave her a quick kiss to the cheek, smiling into her still-hurt eyes, and turned to make my way upstairs. I couldn’t handle one more second of that conversation. Not one more second. It made life seem…bleak. Pointless. Hopeless.

Most of the time I felt claustrophobic in Shepherd’s Mill anyway. Tonight, it felt a million times worse, like the very people in it were trying to choke the life out of me. Trying to choke my every dream and desire. And maybe they were. According to my mother, the only dreams safe enough to hold on to were the ones involving a rich man who would rescue me from my troubles.

I went upstairs and changed into black spandex shorts and a half-shirt that said On The Brink across the chest. I flicked on the power to my boombox and my room was instantly filled with the soft sound of Madonna. My footsteps were muted thumps as I crossed the carpeted floor and settled down on the cushioned window seat that faced east.

The night looked so dark beyond the cool pane of glass. Anonymous, like there could be anything out there. And like I could be anyone out there. Anyone I wanted to be. Out there could be love and happiness, not just money and status. Out there could be a normal life, away from all the Shepherd’s Mill crap. I just couldn’t get to it yet. Three more years… I just had to survive it for three more years.

I could be a rock until then, couldn’t I? I could hold onto my own thoughts and ideals and beliefs until then, couldn’t I? I thought I could if I was strong enough. If I were a rock.

A rock.

A rock.

A rock…

Like the memory itself oozed from my brain in a warm trickle that pooled right in the center of my chest, I thought of the rock in the middle of the field and the boy who had showed me how big the world really was.

Dane James.

The one person who didn’t change no matter how much I did. The one thing that was solid no matter how much everything else shifted. He was a rock.

Strong and steady.

True.

And that night, he felt like my rock.

I thought of that summer day when he stayed with me. He was The One Who Stayed when everyone else ran. I thought of how good he was, deep down, in all the ways that mattered. I thought of how kind he was to me earlier, even though he had no reason to be. I wasn’t very nice to him in school. I mean, I wasn’t cruel or rude. No one was really cruel or rude to him. He was gorgeous, which meant the girls secretly wanted him, and he was kinda cool in his I-don’t-give-a-shit way, which meant the guys secretly respected him. But it wasn’t enough to make him an insider. There was still that unspoken rule that the upper crust could only admire him from a distance. Or in the dark. Workers only really associated with their kind, just like the rich kids only associated with theirs.

And we were on two different sides of that fact.

He was a rock and I was as fluid as the ocean. He knew exactly who he was and what he wanted, while I took on the form of whatever contained me, whoever I was around. He was his own man. Already. And I had no identity, nothing of my own. Dane James was Dane James and he didn’t apologize to anyone for it. And I was…nobody special.

That’s when I saw him. Like the night, or maybe my sheer want of him, had produced him out of thin air. Out of smoke and shadow and dark, forbidden things.

I leaned in close to the window, close enough that my nose touched the glass. I wanted to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. I prayed they weren’t. And I was filled with nervous excitement when I saw the reality of the vision.

It was real.

He was real.

Dane James was standing in my yard.