Suspicious. Great.
Rather than wait for them to start questioning us, I sigh and go with honesty. “He’s not comfortable around police—like a lot of people these days. It’s not just you guys. I’m with the Maple Falls firehouse, under Chief Easton.”
The officer grins. “Ah, Dom. I always lose to that son of a bitch in fantasy football.”
I force a smile. Truth is, if Ayden wants space from them, I’ll respect it. Even if he’s being cryptic as hell.
“I’ll tell him to ease up.”
“Nah, I’ve got a solid team this year. What’s your name? I’ll tell him I ran into you.”
“Pierce.”
The second I say my last name, Ayden squeezes my fingers tight. It’s only then I realize my grip on him has shifted—from his wrist to his hand.
“Pierce. Got it. Alright, you two sure you’re all good?”
“Yup. Thanks for your concern.”
I don’t turn away until they’re nearly back at their vehicle. Then I release Ayden’s hand and face him. “Get in. We can talk on the way home.”
He shakes his head. “If it’s alright with you, I’d rather not.”
There he goes again, shutting down.
“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re not the only one uneasy around them.”
“Keoni—”Damn, the full name. “—I’m not fucking afraid of them. Just unlock the door.”
I pull the key from my pocket and pop the lock. He yanks thedoor open and throws himself inside, slamming it shut before I can speak.
I stare for a moment, then take the long walk around the back of the truck to the driver’s side. I need to understand what’s going on with him.
He’s got a week left before his thirty days are up. I wonder if he’ll tell me in time—or if I’ll be forced to find out my own way.
23
Three Years Prior
“You’ve never been alone a single day of your adult life, Ayden. You need me.”
Anyone would ask what the hell I’m doing. How did Ayden Pierce end up back with his abusive ex—right here, in his apartment?
Even Alysa gives me grief. She swears it’s guilt, that I came back because I left him once before. She couldn’t be more wrong.
I’m terrified of him.
I don’t understand his obsession with me. It’s not like he couldn’t have someone else—he’s good-looking, charming when he wants to be. I’ve seen it. I saw him cheat, then heard the half-assed apology, the tiny flicker of responsibility, before he shoved the blame back on me.
That first time, I should’ve ended it. Maybe things would’ve been different.
Leaning against the closed front door, eyes cast down, I squeeze the lion tattoo inked on my left arm that dangles at my side.
“You know that, right?” he asks, stepping closer.
“Yeah,” I mutter.
“I just want to take care of you. Why fight that? You’re so fucking confusing.” His condescending tone blendswith his laughter, tightening every muscle in my back and chest. “If you’d been with me, this never would’ve happened.”
