“Now, Shania. Trust me. If this doesn’t work, I’ll never ever give you advice again and you can carry on answering his calls nine hundred and fifty times a day.”

She exhales and gives in, handing me the phone. I tuck it into my purse and hold my drink up.

“Now,” I say. “Let’s enjoy the rest of our night.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Let’s.”

My eyes slide back to the man at the bar, who is still watching me.

There is something about him; I’m not sure what, but it’s there.

It doesn’t matter.

I won’t break on this one.

It’s for the best.

 

 

CHAPTER 3

THEN – MADDIE

Something is wrong.

I know it, but I can’t pinpoint what that something is. There is nothing majorly obvious, nothing is right there in front of me, but I can feel it with every ounce of my being. Something inside of me is on high alert as I stare at York, who is in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. It’s nothing he hasn’t done before. In fact, he does it all the time.

Perhaps it’s the urgency or his quick movements.

Or perhaps it’s just the sinking feeling in my stomach that I’ve had for days; the feeling I can’t seem to shake, no matter what I do.

“Hey,” I say softly, wrapping my robe tighter around myself and walking in closer.

It’s eight in the morning. Early. He didn’t come home last night, which isn’t unusual. He works nightshift, sometimes that goes until early morning. There are times he doesn’t make it to bed before I wake up. Some days, it almost feels like I just don’t see him.

Turning from the fridge, he looks over at me. He has these incredible green eyes, unlike any I’ve ever seen. Like two emeralds shining brightly from his face. His hair is a mix of brown and red, but it suits him. It isn’t a color I’d usually look for in a male, but he does it justice, in a big way. His chiseled jaw is covered in stubble, and his body is large, muscled and covered in tattoos.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, tearing open a bag of cheese.

Cheese.

Cheese.

That only makes my stomach twist even more. Why does he need cheese? He hates cheese. It seems so odd that he’d be eating it. If it were anything else, I wouldn’t notice, but cheese? My stomach is screaming that something is wrong and to just ask him about it, but I’m terrified of shattering our perfect world.

We’re so happy.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, trying to make the question sound casual and not like an attack of any sort.

“Yeah,” he says, putting some cheese into his mouth. “Why?”

I blink.

“You’re eating cheese. You hate cheese.”

He stares down at the bag then chews for a few more seconds before turning around and spitting the cheese into the sink. I watch, mouth slightly agape, as he shoves the bag back into the fridge and comes back out with a bag of carrots sticks I cut up yesterday.

“Thought it was carrots,” he shrugs.

That seems like a valid explanation, so why is my stomach still twisting and turning, screaming at me that it’s not valid and I need to dig deeper?

“How was work?” I ask, moving closer to turn the coffee pot on.

“Long,” he says, crunching on some carrots.

I nod, turning to him and stepping closer. He reaches out, putting a hand around my waist and pulling me close, pressing his lips to my head. “How’d you sleep?” he asks.

“Fine,” I answer. “You’re in later than usual this morning; did you have extra work?”

He looks down at me, and up close, I can see his eyes are slightly bloodshot.

They get like that when he’s tired, stop being so paranoid.

“Nah, we finished earlier, and I hung out with the guys for a bit before coming home.”

Hmmm.

“Oh, that sounds nice. What did you get up to?”

His eyes narrow. “Sounds a lot like you’re questioning me, Maddie.”

I force a smile. “Not at all, just interested in your night.”

He studies me further, then lets me go. “Don’t appreciate coming home to twenty questions. I work hard to keep this house over your head, over Rae’s head ...”

“I know, York,” I say softly. “I wasn’t trying to be difficult, I was just asking ...”

“Well, don’t,” he mutters, stepping out of the kitchen and disappearing down the hall. “I’m goin’ to sleep.”

I stare after him. Confused. Hurt. Unsure.

He has a temper. He’s always had a temper. But usually I can talk to him about anything. He’s been edgy for the last few weeks, and I’ve tried, oh, I’ve tried, to just let it go. Maybe it’s been me. Maybe it’s Rae. Maybe he’s just stressed.

But something is off.

I can feel it so strongly.

I just don’t know how to proceed.

~*~*~*~

“Jesus, Rae,” York bellows so loudly I’m jerked awake. “I fuckin’ raised you better than this.”

I rub my eyes, staring over at the time. It’s three in the morning. He’s just come home from work, I’m sure, but why he’d be yelling at Rae is beyond me. I push out of bed, sliding on my robe and making my way out into the hall where the yelling is coming from. York is standing in front of Rae, covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his fists clenched.

He’s so angry.

I’ve never seen him this angry.

He’s panting, he’s so wound up.

“Stop it, York,” Rae snaps, crossing her arms. “I’m not your child. I’m your sister.”

“A sister I’ve raised. A sister I’ve taken care of. You fucking owe me, you little bitch—”

“York!” I cry, horrified.

I’ve never heard him speak to her like that. Not once. They’ve always been close. He’s always adored her. What the hell is happening? Who is this man?

York turns and glares at me. “None of your business, Maddie. Back off.”

“That’s your sister. Stop talking to her like that. What’s wrong with you?”

“She’s comin’ in late, hangin’ out with older boys, disrespecting me in my own fuckin’ home.”

“York,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “Stop. Please.”