I struggled to keep my head bowed as I let Courtney guide me down the sidewalk toward her car, which was parked at the curb, our speed increasing with every step we took.
It gave me the sense that I was fleeing.
Running.
I guessed I should have known I could never run as fast and as far as him.
Because I could feel it.
The burst of hot energy that hit me from behind.
My heart stuttered a beat.
“Faith,” he called, voice a gruff rumble of a plea.
My face pinched, and my legs went weak below me, my feet no longer able to carry me.
I wanted to jump into Courtney’s car. Have her whisk me away to a secret place where no one could touch me.
Hurt me or my daughter.
Unable to stand beneath the intensity, I whirled around, the words already flying from my mouth as I did. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
He stuffed his hands into his suit pant pockets. The man looked like some kind of distinguished model.
Polished and big city.
So different from the rough outcast I remembered, yet so much the same it hurt to look at him.
“What if I have something I need to say to you?”
Disbelief shook my head. “And what could you possibly have to say to me?”
Grief struck across his strong features, and despite the distance between us, I could see the way his thick throat rolled as he swallowed. His voice had only deepened when he spoke again, “I’m sorry about Joseph.”
I choked over the incredulous sound that locked in my chest. I wasn’t sure if it was laughter or a cry. “You’re sorry?”
“I am. Incredibly.”
I blinked. Long and hard. Before I forced my eyes to open and remain pinned on him. “You don’t get to be sorry for me, Jace. You have no idea what I’ve been through. What I’m goin’ through. Just . . . go back to where you came from. Go home.”
I turned and started for Courtney’s car. She returned her hand to my arm in a silent show of support, though I could feel her looking back at Jace from over her shoulder.
If looks could kill and all of that. Courtney could slay a man with a single glance of her razor-sharp eyes.
But Jace Jacobs was still standing, his words darts where they impaled my back. “I am home.”
At his assertion, I stumbled a step and my hands clenched into fists. Somehow, I managed to force myself to keep walking.
A long time ago, he’d promised me I’d always be his home. That together, we were gonna build a castle.
And the man had never been anything but a liar.
Four
Faith
I shot upright in bed, gasping through the remnants of the dream and the fear clouding the sanity of my mind. Again, I’d fallen into a restless sleep. Sucked down by the exhaustion, only to immediately jolt from sleep.
The sheets were tangled around my legs, sweat slickin’ my back so that the thin fabric of my tank stuck to my skin.
I sucked in a staggered breath, trying to calm the terror that clanged like a thunder through my veins.
A constant thrum, thrum, thrum, that beat and bled and threatened everything that was important to me.
Blinking through the haze of night, I threw off the sheets and climbed to my shaky feet.
Maybe I should have given in and let either Courtney or my mama and daddy spend the night.
But I’d told them I couldn’t be held prisoner in my own home.
That it wasn’t right to uproot their lives, especially since Mack had promised he would have an officer driving by the plantation several times throughout the night, the entire squadron keeping a close eye on us.
Still, he’d warned me that I should be careful just in case.
Watchful.
Make sure all my doors were locked up tight.
As if I wasn’t already jumping at every sound. Peering out the windows with each rustle of the trees and craning my ear every time the old house groaned. All the while, I’d be clutching my phone, at the ready to dial Mack if there was even a hint that someone might be trying to get inside.
It was just my luck that the old walls loved to moan all night long.
The hardest part was I had this overwhelming urge to take possession of my life. To pick up the shattered pieces and splice them back together. To find my strength in the midst of all the turmoil.
But how could I do that when I could feel danger lurking all around us? Dragging us into darkness when all I wanted was to reach for the light.
For safety and joy.
Heart still beating wild, my feet inched across the worn, hard planks of my bedroom floor, senses set to high alert.
Awareness prickled across my damp flesh.
But I wasn’t afraid the way I’d been last night.
No, instead I was finding some sort of comfort in the disorder.
A fool who found security in the danger.
I edged toward the window that I’d already checked twice to make sure was locked. Off to the side of it, I pulled back the drape so I could peer into the night.
I sucked in a breath that didn’t seem to have anywhere to go. My heart took off at a sprint, part of me filling right up with indignant fury.
How could he?
How could he?
Though there was a stupid part of me that was thankful someone was watchin’ after us.
Gulping down the unease, I grabbed the short robe from where it hung on the back of a chair and pulled it on, quickly tying the knot.
My door was wide open, the same as Bailey’s so I could hear her if she needed me. I glanced into her room, my child again soundly asleep, unaware of the disturbance as I tiptoed across the creaking floors.
As quietly as I could, I moved down the sweeping, curved staircase, the house massive and dark.
Ominous at this time of night. Maybe it’d been all along.
Heart a thunder knocking at my ribs, I worked through the locks on the double doors, not even sure what it was that I was doing. Why I felt compelled to step out into the night.
Toward him when I should be running in tacklinthe opposite direction.
Away from the man who had destroyed me in a way that only he could. The only one who’d ever had the power to desolate me because he’d been the only one I’d ever completely given myself to.
And I hated it.
Hated that he still had that control.
The control to make me quiver and shake and question everything I thought I knew.
Pulling open the door, I stepped out onto the wrap-around porch, hugging the robe tighter around my body, wishing it was a thousand layers of protection.
A guard against my heart that beat a frenzy at the center of my chest.
Outside, the night was heavy, bugs trillin’ in the massive trees that were hugged by the droning night. The ancient oaks lined the long, dirt drive, their branches covered in moss and stretched out like craggy arms to shelter the road.
I eased a step forward and lifted my chin in a stance of intimidation while, on the inside, I wasn’t feeling close to brave.
I stared at the outline of the man who stood at the end of the tree-lined road.
As if he’d been there all along.
Waiting.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I wondered if I was hallucinating. Part of me praying that I was. That he’d never stepped foot back in this town.
When I opened them, there he was, moving forward, his steps slow yet somehow powerful and purposed.
He’d always moved that way.
His presence profound.
Hitting me with the force of a bolt of lightning. As if I were standing right at the edge of a moment that would change everything.
The first time I’d seen him, I was sure the boy was there to be revered, completely unattainable, shrouded in some kind of dark mystery, while the town called him trash.
They’d whispered that he wasn’t worthy, when I’d known in my heart of hearts that he’d been worth everything.
Every risk.
Except right then, I was wishin’ that I’d never taken it.
His intensity mounted and mounted with each step that he took.
Energy thrashed through the air, binding to the humidity.
My pulse went thready beneath the pressure, knees shaking as if I’d seen a ghost.
But that was what these walls had always held.
Ghosts and secrets and scandals.
I’d always been drawn to the beauty of it. Romanticizing this place. I guessed it’d been all too easy to fall in love under the shadow of it.