“You going home today?” Stetson buckles a sleepy Poppy into her car seat, adjusting the straps as she looks over her shoulder at me. Dale closes the truck door, walking around to join the awkward tension that is Stetson and me. Of all the girls, she’s the one I find myself most nervous around. Not because she’s scary—although I’ve no doubt she’d put a knife in my heart if it meant protecting those she cares about—but because I see some of myself in her.
Stetson carries herself with the same dark cloud I find myself beneath, the one that reeks of trauma so vast and wide, no amount of time or space can fully repair what’s been broken. She’s strong and confident, that much’s painfully clear, but she’s imperfect, and she doesn’t apologize for the discomfort she may make other’s feel.If they don’t like her, fuck them.I want to be her; I want to find my shelter to weather the storm in, my light in the dark, my lifeline to cling to.
She’s a clear reminder there’s hope, and hope’s the most dangerous thing for someone like me.
“Uh.” I shrug. “I don’t know what to say to him yet.”
She leans in, kissing Poppy’s nose before closing the door and facing me. “Take it from someone who married their own monster—it doesn’t matter if they’re good or bad men. It only matters if they’re good or bad to you, how they make you feel, what they’d do to love you and be with you. Gus was my stalker for ten years—” She smiles fondly, and unmasked shock sweeps over my face. She laughs. “But in the end, there’s no one who loves my demons the way he does. He helped me love myself, and that’s the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.”
She climbs into the front seat, firing up the truck’s engine. “That, and my daughter.”
I nod. I’ll never have children of my own, but maybe I can learn to love myself.
“Don’t be a stranger.” Dale wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me. I stiffen within her embrace, completely caught off guard. I don’t hug people—I don’t know how.
She just chuckles, completely unaffected by my discomfort, and jumps into the passenger seat.
“Wait.” I look over my shoulder for signs of Faith. She ran inside to do something but still hasn’t returned. “I-I want to do something for Faith. Something real, for everything she’s done for me.”
Dale and Stetson both smile, nodding.
I lick my lips. “Dale, does Mateo still have that empty building he was telling me about when he sold the casino and ranch?”
Her eyebrows draw together, but she nods slowly. “Yeah, it’s in town. I still don’t think he has anything planned yet.”
“Would you talk him into letting me buy one of the storefronts?”
She shrugs. “Sure, but he’ll want to know what for.”
I look over my shoulder again, the sense of being watched crawling up my back. “Faith’s dream is to own a self-defense gun range. I’d love to help build her one. She helped me learn to protect myself, and?—”
Dale waves her hand, a full smile spreading across her freckle dotted cheeks. “Say no more. That’s an amazing idea. I’ll make sure Mateo and I help.”
“Great. Just, uh, text me? I mean, with the details,” I stutter, feeling completely insecure.
“Gosh, it’s hard being the poor friend. My idea of a good gift is helping cover up a murder or something.” Stetson scowls, but there’s a lilt of laughter to her voice. She puts the truck into drive before winking out the window at me. “I don’t got money, but I’m sure as shit a hard worker. I’ll be there to help. Just text me.”
And with a final, teasing smirk, they drive off.
“Shit, they left?” Faith bounds down the front steps, her hair loose, and I can’t help but stare. It’s the first time I’ve seen the golden waves in all their glory bouncing around her face. They glitter in the early afternoon sunlight, reflecting light like a crystal.
“Why do you always keep your hair up?”
“What?” She touches the stands like she didn’t realize they were still down. “Uh, habit, I guess.”
“It’s so pretty.”
She giggles, brushing off my compliment. “Stop flirting with me and go get your man. Come on, I’ll take you home.”
She walks around the front of her SUV, twisting her hair up in its signature knot before jumping in the driver’s seat. For a brief moment, I look back at the house, half expecting to find a ghost standing in the doorway.
Instead, my eyes snag on a swaying curtain on the top floor, the white drapes dramatically fluttering, as if someone was there and moved quick so I wouldn’t see them. But that can’t be.
Can it?
I rub a hand up my arms, brushing off the chill that seems to linger as a permanent fixture here. Part of me wants to flee from this haunted place as fast as I can. The other part wants to never leave—protect Faith from the ghosts that lurk within and hide from my own ghosts that lurk if I leave.
FORTY-FOUR
