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“You failed to attend family dinner last night,” he clipped in place of any kind of greeting.

I stared at the parking spots along the front of the diner. “I couldn’t make it.”

“What could be more important than seeing your family?” This was the Bryant Massey no one got to see; he was more than likely three or four drinks into his evening. He had lost enough control to call me because he much preferred short, clipped text messages that came across like orders you’d give a trained dog. The word family scraped like road rash. We’d been everything but a family.

“There was an event. It couldn’t be rescheduled,” I said.

Silence, thick and deliberate. The head games were familiar, so I waited. I wouldn’t speak first.

“I see,” he said finally, disappointment dripping into every syllable. His fingers would be twisting that thick gold pinky ring—the one he wore like armor, the same one that had left scars on me. “I won’t excuse you for disappointing Julia again. Seven o’clock. Thursday.”

My jaw tensed while unease took root in my stomach.

“Yep,” I said, ending the call.

For a second, I just stood there, phone in my grip, knuckles white. I couldn’t quite get a full breath against the suffocating band across my chest. The glass reflected my face back at me—jaw set, shoulders tense, eyes already distant. I shoved the phone into my pocket and headed back inside, letting the familiar voices and faces of the people I cared most about pull me out of my head.

“Everything good?” Jonah asked, reading me better than I wanted him to.

“Yeah,” I said. “Want to spar tonight?” Jonah's chin dipped as if he’d already planned on it.

If I didn’t burn this off, sleep wasn’t happening. Bryant Massey always made me question the move back, but one glance around the table made the answer clear. I’d made the right choice, even if it meant sharing a town with the man who claimed credit for raising me.

Five

Cali

As I tossed a box of Lucky Charms into the shopping cart for Jace, I grabbed a couple of boxes of peaches-and-cream instant oatmeal for myself and Grandpa. I remembered him liking it when I was a kid, which is where my fondness for it ‌began. The front wheels on the cart kept tugging left as I pushed ahead, keeping my head down as much as possible. I wanted to move in and out of the store quickly, hoping no one would recognize me. The bright grocery store lights felt much more exposing than the dusky sky had when I darted inside.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” a woman exclaimed as her cart bumped into mine.

“No worries,” I muttered, hoping to keep moving and also realizing it was probably my defective cart that actually caused the crash.

“Cali?” the same voice asked hesitantly. I mentally counted to three before looking up. It was Landry Gaines, the pastor’s daughter and the epitome of perfection. She still looked flawless, with her onyx-black hair hanging straight down her back, oversized eyes framed by thick dark lashes, and a sprinkling of freckles that highlighted the caramel in her irises.

“Landry,” I said in place of a greeting.

She smiled, a soft, almost sad curve of her mouth, and hugged the chunky baby in her arms a little closer. The little girl had more hair than I’d ever seen on someone that small—fine strands pulled into two uneven pigtails that stuck out on either side of her head like they couldn’t decide where to go. With bright blue eyes and a mess of blonde curls, her daughter clearly took after her father.

I stayed where I was, grateful for the baby providing a buffer between us. Landry and I didn’t have bad blood, but there was enough history that silence sometimes felt safer than conversation. Although she was younger than me by a few years, that had never mattered much in a town like this, especially when everyone knew her name before they knew mine. She was the standard against which all other girls were measured without much thought.

It was impossible not to have feelings about someone like that.

“It’s been forever since I’ve seen you. Are you here long?” she asked with genuine enthusiasm.

“As long as I need to be,” I replied, knowing I was being curt but frustrated that I ran into the pastor’s daughter on my first day back.

“I see. Well, I’d love to get coffee sometime or go for a run or something.” She looked away, eyes glassy. If I was going to live here, even if only for a little while, I needed to chill the hell out. Right now, a run sounded just like what my body needed. Maybe exhaustion would quiet my mind.

“I might take you up on that run,” I said. The baby flashed me a toothless grin as slobber dribbled down Landry’s shoulder. She looked surprised by my response.

“I’d really love that.” We parted ways after exchanging numbers, and I wondered if I’d just made another mistake. Landry was Jonah’s sister, and Jonah was his best friend, and the last thing I needed was someone letting him know I was back in town.

Six

Lane

Jonah threw a quick jab to my ribs while simultaneously parried my punch to his chin. I rubbed the sweat dripping from my chin onto my shoulder, watching his eyes for any indication of his next move—a dart of the eyes, a shift of his feet—anything that would reveal where his next blow would land.