I let myself believe—just for a second—that this is what it could’ve been. What itstillcould be, if the world was a different shape. When he finally pulls away, I don’t follow. I just watch him leave. Watch the red truck pull away from the house. It disappears down the road, swallowed by dust and distance.
“You do not deserve this.” He had said.
No goodbye. Just something so true it shatters me. My throat closes. Tears prick the corners of my eyes—but they don’t fall. They just sit there, burning. And for the first time in a long, long time—I don’t feel invisible. I feel seen. I feel real. I feel...remembered.
Chapter 8
Bad Girls Don’t Get Happy Endings
Summer
The door slams, firm enough to rattle the hinges. Loud enough to sayI’m home—without saying a word.
By the time his boots strike tile, I’ve smoothed the lilac dress over my thighs and fixed my face into something pleasant. Jacob doesn’t look at me at first. Just tosses his keys onto the counter and yanks a beer from the fridge. Like it’s any other night. Like he hasn’t been gone since dawn. Like the air doesn’t still hum with the ghost of someone else’s touch.
“Office was a shitshow,” he mutters, twisting the cap off with a click. “Teller let that junkie bitch slip through processing again. Halfway across the bridge before anyone noticed. Waste of a badge.”
He takes a long drink. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I told them—tighten the damn watch on the cells. But no one listens until someone’s twitching with a needle in their throat.”
He finally turns. His gaze skims my face—then drops to the dress. Lingers.
“You look nice.” His lips pull into something that wants to be a compliment. But it doesn’tlandlike one.
I nod. “Thanks.”
He leans against the counter. Just watching me.Not speaking. Just letting his silence settle like fog, thick and heavy and full of unsaid things.
“You make dinner?” He asks eventually.
“I can,” I say quickly. “I was waiting.”
He grunts. Like I should know when to expect him home and have it ready.
“You hear about the Morrigan boys?” His tone shifts—colder. Controlled. “Busted them running Carlton's herd out. Thought they’d get away with it. Hell, they’re lucky I got to them before his cowboys. Wouldn’t have been enough of them left to bury.”
I nod. Fold the dish towel in my lap. Tight. Tight enough it nearly tears.
Jacob’s voice sharpens. His eyes glint. “I shut it down. Fast. Before it turned into a warzone.”
I nod and smile. Pretending to admire him the way everyone else in this godforsaken town does.
Another swig of beer. He sets the bottle down with a dullclink.
“I’ll always keep you safe, you know,” he says. “Just you, me, our home.” His smile is tight. “Was thinking about your name today. Summer, it suits you,” he adds. “All that light. All that skin.” A pause.
He tilts his head.
His gaze flicks over me. Slower now. Possessive. “You just need to remember that you’re spoken for. No more whispers. No more wandering onto dance floors with other men. No more little visits from your bar-boy.”
My breath catches in my throat. Shit…. The CCTV?—
He leans in, voice dropping. “You’re not going to be some messy little rumor under my roof. I’m not going to stand here and let people in town talk of fucking soft boys coming to my front door to see my woman. And one day Summer. Maybe sooner than you think, you’ll have a ring on your finger. That’s your future, sweetheart.” He says it like asentence. Apunishment.
He moves to the table. Sinks into the chair across from me like a man who’s just put the whole world back in order.
“I did some digging today. Into your little rockstar.”
