Finn, a little to the side, hands in his pockets, looking at me like I’m worth staying for.
My chest tightens.
“That’s not simple,” I say.
Evie smiles. “Nothing worth keeping ever is.”
“I could get hurt.”
“Yes,” she says gently.
“They could get hurt.”
Her hand squeezes mine. “Yes.”
I swallow. “This could go wrong.”
She meets my eyes. “It could go right.”
“I…” I don’t even know how to finish that thought.
“You don’t have to decide everything right now,” she continues. “You just have to stop running from the part of you that already knows.”
I close my eyes.
Finally, I don’t feel pulled in two directions.
When I open them again, she’s smiling at me like she already knows what I’m going to do.
“What if I stay?” I ask.
Her expression softens. “Then you build something beautiful.”
“And if I leave?”
“You’ll carry this place with you anyway.”
“I think…” I start.
Then stop, because I don’t need to finish it.
Evie brushes her thumb over my cheek. “I’m proud of you.”
My throat tightens. “I miss you.”
“I know,” she says softly. “But you’re not alone anymore.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Ryder
I meetJenson in a place that still smells of old blood, no matter how many times they mop it.
The diner sits forty minutes away from the storage unit, tucked beside a service station with two dead vending machines and a flickering OPEN sign that should’ve given up years ago. It’s the kind of place men pick when they don’t want to be remembered. Bad coffee, worse pie, no one asking questions unless they’ve got a death wish or a cop’s pension.
I park where I can see the highway and the front door both.
Old habits.
