Philip Maxwell was the person I trusted most. He’d been in my life for over two years, ever since the broken shell of me had been rescued from my father’s house. In fact, he’d become my best friend. See, trust wasn’t something that came easy for me. You had to work damn hard to earn it, and even then, there wasn’t a guarantee you’d get it. I still had the occasional nightmare or panic attack when the memories of my childhood snuck up on me. Thankfully, with the help of not only a dedicated and caring therapist, but an amazing support system in the form of my sister, her husband, and Philip, they were few and far between.

Even so, I wanted the memories gone. And the only way I could think to get rid of them was to replace them with new ones, good ones. Memories that weren’t tainted by fear, guilt, and self-loathing. Because I lived with all three. Fear inspired by my now-dead father who had threatened to kill my sister if I wasn’t a dutiful daughter. Guilt because my sister still blames herself for not seeing it sooner. Self-loathing because I didn’t try harder to stop it from happening.

I knew it was irrational, but the thoughts still festered inside me. Their claws were dug so deep into my viscera, as though setting up permanent residence, and they had no intention of letting go any time soon. I needed to find a way to make them. To banish them so far down into the bowels of hell there wasn’t a chance of them ever seeing the light of day again.

I didn’t expect it would be easy, but I was tired of battling my demons. It was time for me to take control. I knew I couldn’t do it alone. I needed help, and the only person I trusted to help me was Philip. Now, it was just a matter of convincing him, of getting him to say yes. Not that I really believed praying would help, but I sent up a quick one anyway when I heard his truck pull into my driveway.

After a single knock, Philip stepped through the door. He was stocky, but still resembled a Norse god with his thick beard and long, light brown hair. He was also built like a warrior with thick muscles straining against his gray Henley and tight, dark-wash jeans as he held two paper bags in one arm. When I first met him, he’d scared the crap out of me, even though he’d taken every concerted effort to keep his distance and put me at ease. Each time I talked to my sister, she told me to give him a break, that he was trustworthy. Eventually, his easy-going manner helped me relax.

“Hey, you!” He smiled widely when he saw me. “I have your groceries.”

I followed him into the kitchen. “Thank you, Philip. I know it’s probably a hassle for you to keep doing this.”

When I’d first been brought to this house, we didn’t know if it was safe for me to leave, considering the line of work my father was in. I’d been given a protective detail, one that included Philip. In addition to checking on security, he kept my refrigerator stocked each time he came over. It had become a habit. One so engrained that, in the ensuing two years, I’d become slightly agoraphobic. Everyone enabled my disorder, and I let them. Which meant that Philip continued to stop by three days a week to drop off groceries and to check the security of the house, not that the latter was necessary anymore.

He set the bags on the counter and looked over at me. “I’ve told you a hundred times I don’t mind doing it, so stop worrying.”

Even though it was childish, I stuck my tongue out at him. “I’m not worrying about it. I’m just saying…thank you.”

“Then stop at thank you next time.”

“Whatever. Here, let me help.”

While he emptied the first bag, I reached into the second and began pulling out the few items inside.

“They had your favorite ice cream in stock finally. Everyone else in Pinegrove must like it as well since I can rarely find it. I bought the last three pints they had on the shelves.”

“Oh my gosh, you are a life saver. I know I shouldn’t eat it, but it’s so good.” I almost moaned the last word.

Philip turned fully toward me, and just like that, the air thickened with an awkwardness I couldn’t quite identify. My skin tightened as his eyes traced a path from my head to my toes and back again. I’d always been small in stature, but my curves had filled out since my father’s death, and I was no longer under his control.

I awkwardly cleared my throat as I went back to my task of putting things away. “So, um, how’s work going?”

I finished stowing the rest of the groceries while he talked.

“It’s going. I didn’t have to throw anyone out or break up any fights.”

I faced him as I leaned back against the counter. “You seriously have to work at the tamest club in the city. How come you never have any good stories to tell me about how you had to crack some heads of drunk college boys or pull apart two girls with their claws out? You know I try to live vicariously through you, Philip.”

“I can’t help it if they take one look at this body and realize getting in a fight isn’t worth going toe-to-toe with me.” He mockingly flexed his biceps, posing this way and that as though he were in a bodybuilding competition.

I giggled at his ridiculousness even as I shifted uncomfortably with unexpected arousal. I ignored the sensation. Knowing it was now or never, I took a deep breath and braced myself.

“Come on, let’s go in the living room for a minute and talk.” My tone was serious and business-like.

Philip shot me a concerned look, but followed me into the next room. I settled on the couch and patted the cushion next to me. “Sit.”

Still looking wary, he cautiously sat down. I shifted and curled my leg underneath me so I now faced him. Unconsciously, he mirrored my position.

“You have this look on your face.”

“What look?” I asked, trying to appear innocent.

“One that says you’re about to ask me something I’m not going to like. Okay, Casey, spill it.”

“Fine,” I huffed out on a breath of air. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About my past. And about my future. Now, just hear me out before you say anything, please. Here’s the thing. I’m twenty-four years old, and I feel like life is passing me by. I’m stuck in this house, and I don’t want to be. I want to be free. I just don’t know how. I want to purge all this messed up stuff inside my head. Create new memories so I can forge a different path than the one I’m currently on. I want to learn to love. I want to get married. Maybe even have babies. I want to grab life by the balls and actually live. I need someone to teach me. I need you to teach me, Philip.”