“No.” She glances up, offering me a tight smile. “You’re right. It’s why I wanted to leave in the first place, why I never should have stayed, because I never wanted to put you in danger. And it’s not just you. It’s Killian and Connor, and Willow and Niall. Even Raven and Elaine. I’ve come to care about all of you, and”—she sucks in a sharp breath—“that makes this so much harder.”
Sliding my hand over her knee, I give it a gentle squeeze. “Just start at the beginning…”
She nods and slowly lifts her mug up to take a sip. When she sets it back down, I don’t miss the way her knuckles are white, clutching the ceramic in a death grip. “You know I left foster care when I was fifteen.”
“Yes…”
Though I try not to think about it too much because the thought of Lucky out there alone, at such a tender, important age, when she desperately needed someone to be there for her, is enough to bring me to tears.
“Well, I wandered around a lot. Moved from city to city, primarily big ones. Places I could disappear and didn’t have to worry about some adult seeing me on my own on the street and calling the police or Child Protective Services. You can disappear in a city. You can blend in.” She pulls at her hair, referencing our earlier conversation. “Though I didn’t have this, I had other ways of concealing myself. Of staying under the radar. And it worked for a really long time. Because I never let anyone get close.” She peeks up at me, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment. “I dated a few guys, but it was never anything serious. It was always just”—she shrugs—“a release.”
The thought of her being with anyone else makes my chest tighten, but I resist the urge to rub at that spot where my heart aches and instead focus on her and what she’s telling me.
“Six months ago, I met a guy…”
“Okay.”
She takes another sip, like she’s trying to buy some time before she has to continue. “He seemed nice. Paid me a lot of compliments and attention. He seemed to really care about me.”
The way her voice cracks makes me squeeze her leg again. “Where was this?”
She looks like she isn’t going to answer for a moment, like telling me will somehow reveal something she doesn’t want me to know. “Colombia, South Carolina.”
I nod slowly. “Okay…”
“I should have known.” She clenches her eyes closed, shaking her head. “I should have known who he was—what he was—when Giz didn’t like him.”
My eyes automatically drift to the dog. He finishes off his bowl, licks it clean, then trots over and sits by my feet, leaning against my leg. I reach down and scratch behind his ears. “Dogs are pretty good judges of character.”
She looks down at him and nods. “He never liked Brad. Barked at him, growled. He never wanted him anywhere near me. I thought he was just being jealous, being difficult because he’s Giz, but he knew. He saw something I couldn’t.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Which was what? What did he do to you?”
Her fingers tighten on the mug. “It isn’t so much what he did to me. It’s what I did for him.”
15
THREE WEEKS LATER
LUCKY
With the front door of the store propped open, the people of McBride Mountain wander in and out of the shop at will. Everyone wears a smile, excited to congratulate Willow on the grand opening and to have literally any reason to get together and celebrate.
And after everything she went through, she deserves this.
She stands in the middle of the shop, greeting everyone and beaming from ear to ear, excitedly talking about all the different offerings around the shop while people explore and buy the candles she crafted with so much care and precision.
Her product is the kind of stuff people pay a fortune for at the boutiques I’ve worked at in various larger cities—handmade, organic, one hundred percent natural. Plus they smell incredible, the scents she’s created perfectly matching the mountain around us, as if she’s bottled them straight from the source.
I hang back near the entrance to the office, watching it all unfold, trying to stay out of the way and remain as inconspicuous as possible while witnessing her future happening before my eyes.
Despite how uneasy I am being here with all these people, I can’t stop myself from smiling seeing the way she interacts with everyone and how happy the entire town is for her today.
Liam finishes speaking with Killian on the other side of the room—for the umpteenth time since we arrived—and his gaze meets mine. The worry swimming in it mirrors what I’ve seen in his eyes since that morning he learned the truth.
A constant darker undercurrent floating beneath his usually evergreen gaze.
He approaches, weaving through the throngs of people, giving tight smiles and hellos on his way, and stops in front of me, pressing his large, warm palm against my stomach as he leans in. “Are you sure you want to be here, Bluebell? We can go back to the cabin.”
