PROLOGUE
I’d woken up a normal person, but I’d go to bed that night a murderer. The thought ran through my head with a vengeance. We patched up the wall in silence, working diligently side by side. Neither of us wanted to speak of what we’d done. It was too much. No one could ever know our secret.
He assured me that everything would be okay, but I didn’t believe it. Couldn’t. I’d never killed anyone before that day, never watched someone’s light leave their eyes. I’d always believed that was some melodramatic cliché you read in books, but I’d been wrong.
There was no other way to describe the phenomenon that had occurred as their life slipped away. A dim light faded out of the dark eyes and I’d known, without checking for a pulse, that they were gone.
Now, all that was left to do was to clean up our mess and move on with our lives. I was worried, my hands shaking so hard I could barely do the job I’d been tasked with.
He placed his hand on my shoulder, his soft eyes looking down at me without judgment for all I’d done.
“You’ve got to toughen up,” he said, his words harsh despite his soft tone. “It’s done. Falling apart won’t change it. If we go out there and anyone sees you looking like this, they’ll suspect something’s happened. Go into the restroom and clean your face. I’ll finish up.”
I nodded. I couldn’t tell if he was scolding me or trying to offer comfort. Either way, I walked across the hardwood floor of my bedroom and into the restroom across the hall.
When I glanced in the mirror, the woman looking back at me was unrecognizable. Blood was speckled across my straw-colored hair and porcelain skin.
I stuck my hands into the sink, watching the water run red. He was right, of course. I had to pull myself together.
This day had never happened. If anyone asked, I would tell them just that.
CHAPTER ONE
LOREN
“Don’t let go of my hand,” I said, squeezing my daughter’s tiny fingers in mine as we made it through another large crowd. I’d never seen the riverwalk so full of people. Of course the town’s festival had to fall on the day we’d been gifted free family portraits. Rynlee, unaware of any danger that may befall her, zigzagged in between groups of people, pulling me along with her as quickly as our legs would go. The ice cream cone in her hand, a small bribe that was ultimately necessary to maintain her good mood, was melting down her sticky hands, and I cringed at the thought of it landing on her clothes. Thank God for Tide pens.
Finally, she stopped at the edge of the road. Though she was too incredibly brave, she knew the rules and, for the most part, followed them well. She looked left, then right.
There were no cars coming from either direction, so she looked up to me for permission to cross. Before I could say anything, I felt someone shove me forward, my knees buckling underneath me as my hand squeezed tighter onto hers. We fell together onto the cobblestone street, and I felt the sting of a cut on my palm.
“Rynlee, are you okay?” I cried, pulling the girl into my arms as I forced us back up. She was sobbing, her little hands scraped raw. Her ice cream lay smashed on the pavement, and a golden yellow dog pounced around happily at our feet, his tongue lapping up the spilled treat.
Once my daughter had caught sight of the pup, her attention was lost to me, and she tried to throw herself out of my arms.
“Can I pet him?” she asked with a laugh, reaching her hand out toward the dog. I pulled her back.
“No, not while he eats. We don’t know this dog,” I told her. “He could be mean.”
He cocked his head to the side as if I’d hurt his feelings, and I glanced down at my daughter’s pants. Her white jeans were covered in filth from the street. “Oh, Ryn, look at your clothes.” There was no way a Tide pen was taking that out. Family pictures were definitely canceled.
Before I could focus too much on the mess I’d have to clean later, I heard hurried footsteps rushing toward us. “I’m so sorry,” a male voice called. “I’m so sorry. Did he hurt you?” I turned to see a man with medium-length brown hair, a flannel shirt, and a strong jawline rushing toward me. His eyes were filled with concern as he grabbed the leash that was connected to the dog’s neck. “Merlin,” he scolded, then looked up at me again. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “He took off. There were some birds or something. I guess he thought he could catch them. I couldn’t get through the crowd to stop him in time.” He looked me up and down. “I’m really, really sorry. Is there anything I can do? Can I get you some clean clothes? Offer you some bandages?”
“We’re fine,” I told him, though I was incredibly disappointed our plans had been ruined. It had taken me hours to coax Rynlee into clean clothes and curl her hair.
Interrupting my thoughts, Ryn cried out, “Can I pet him?”
He smiled sheepishly, looking at me and then her. “Uh, I don’t mind if your mom says it’s okay.”
“Will he bite?” I asked, looking at the dog with concern.
“No, Merlin’s nice,” he said. “Just rambunctious and especially weak around food—which I’m happy to replace.” He gestured toward the smashed ice cream and patted the dog’s head. “God love him, he’s honestly such a good dog except for that.”
“Okay,” I said, setting Rynlee down carefully. She reached for his head, leaning in for a hug. She’d always loved animals, though I’d never been a fan.
“I feel so bad. Are you sure you don’t want me to help you guys get cleaned up? I own a shop right across the way. I have a first aid kit and everything. Your hand looks…pretty bad.”
His eyes trailed across my bloody palm as I held it up, trying to dry the blood with the sleeve of my sweater. “I, um, are you sure?” Suddenly, I was aware of the wound again, and I felt the sting searing through my skin, cold as ice.
“It’s the least I can do,” he said, pulling at the leash. “Come on, it’s right this way.” He pulled the leash so Merlin would back up and began leading us through the busy boardwalk.
“Hand, Rynlee,” I instructed her, holding out my hand for hers.
“I wanna walk with Merlin,” she said, but I raised a brow at her.
“Hand.”
She sulked back toward me, much to the stranger’s amusement.
“Rynlee? I’ve never heard that. It’s cute,” he said.
“It’s a family thing. A play on my name. Which is Loren, by the way. My mom was Laurel, I’m Loren, this is Rynlee, Ryn for short. Loren—Ryn, ” I said, bouncing my head from side to side to show how I’d gotten from my name to hers. I’d always spouted off at the mouth when I was nervous, and around this handsome stranger I apparently couldn’t shut up.
“I like it,” he said, obviously unfazed by my babbling. “I’m Jack, and you’ve already met Merlin.”
I laughed. “Up close and personal.”
He smiled at me, his eyes lingering on my face a bit longer than expected. “Well, hopefully we can get you patched up. I hope he didn’t ruin your clothes.”
I brushed a hand over my sweater. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Luckily her clothes are white, so they can be bleached. The rest should come out with pretreatment.”
He nodded as he slowed in front of a building to let a group of women pass us. “My mother’s in town visiting. We can ask her about how to get the stains out. She knows about all that stuff.”
“Your mother?” I asked. Suddenly, I felt unsubstantiated pressure. I didn’t want to meet this stranger’s mother. I especially didn’t want to meet this handsome stranger’s mother while I was covered in blood and street gunk. Before I could think of a reason to resist, he opened the door to a building and ushered me inside.
“She should be right in here.”
“I thought you said you owned a shop. This is a bar,” I said, looking around at the long, wooden bar and tables with their chairs flipped up on top.
“A bar with a first aid kit,” he said. “And we’re not open yet, so it’s fine.” He unhooked Merlin’s leash, letting the dog roam around the empty building while he rushed around to the other side of the bar and bent down to grab something underneath. He pulled a white box out, opening it to reveal a few bandages, gauze, alcohol swabs, and trial packages of antibiotic ointment. “Here we go,” he said, pulling out an alcohol swab first. He handed it to me and I tore it open, swiping it across the wound as I winced. The sharp stinging sensation had me baring my teeth in a grimace.
“Rynlee, get back over here,” I called when I spotted her beginning to follow Merlin across the room.
Her shoulders slumped, but she began to head my way, stopping in the middle of the room and sinking onto the floor. Jack opened a pouch of ointment and placed it on the wound with care, then tore open some gauze and wrapped it around my wrist.
I tried to pretend I wasn’t incredibly sensitive to his touch by watching Rynlee sitting on the floor. The truth was, it was all I could think about. His hands moved across my skin slowly, our cells connecting with an electricity I hadn’t felt in so long.
“There you go, that should do it,” he said, setting my arm on the bar carefully.
“Thank you,” I said. “That’s much better.”
“No problem,” he said. “I much prefer bandaging you to the many, many men that I have the displeasure of bandaging at the end of a long night of drinking.” He chuckled, and his laugh was surprisingly warm. It sent warm tingles across my skin, and I couldn’t break his eye contact.
Finally, he looked away, using his hand to sweep the mess into the trash can under the bar. “Does she need anything?”
“Hers were mostly just scrapes,” I said. “Maybe just an alcohol wipe to sanitize it?” He handed one over before closing the box.
I walked across the room to where my daughter sat with Merlin’s head resting on her lap.
“He seems to like her,” he said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, working to get her hands clean. She winced with my every move, but her opposite hand didn’t leave the dog’s head. “I think she likes him, too.” I wondered if it was going entirely over his head that I wasn’t sure if we were only talking about Merlin and Rynlee.
When I glanced back at Jack, aware that he hadn’t said anything for a moment too long, I saw him staring up across the banister that led to some unseen space at the top floor of the bar. “Is everything okay?” I asked, drawing his attention back to me.
“S-sorry,” he said, shaking his head to apparently clear his thoughts. “I was just looking for my mom. I’m not sure where she’s gone off to.”
“Right. Your mom.” I had almost forgotten.
“Anyway,” he said, letting out a breath and rendering his mouth into a smile. “It doesn’t matter. She’s around here somewhere.”
“Does she live here?” I pointed up to where he’d been staring.
“No,” he said. “She lives in Herrinville. She’s just here visiting for the week.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” I said, letting out a small sigh of relief.
“We’re very close,” he told me. Then, noticing what must’ve been a strange expression on my face, he asked, “Is that weird?”
I shook my head. “My mother died a few years ago. We used to be close, too. So, I think it’s nice to have her around. I hope Rynlee doesn’t kick me to the curb first chance she gets,” I said, glancing down. Rynlee was standing up next to me, but still refused to draw her attention from her new canine companion.
“That’s why I have a dog,” he jested. “They never leave you.”
“Except when they’re plowing down strangers in the streets, you mean?”
“Hey, what can I say? My dog has good taste.” He winked as he said it, though I was sure it wasn’t my imagination that his face had gone a darker shade of red. I let out a small laugh, but there was a knot in my stomach that was making it hard to form proper thoughts.
“Well, thank you,” I said finally, lifting my hand with my daughter’s in it. “For helping us.”
“It was the least I could do, like I said, after I caused you to need the help.”
“Well, it wasn’t all your fault,” I said, “but it seems the culprit is the most forgiven. I’m going to have to drag her away from him.”
“You’re welcome to stay,” he said. “For lunch. I was just about to grab a bite. I owe you a replacement ice cream cone anyway.”
“Oh, that’s kind of you, but we should really get home and change. We’ve got to meet my cousin for dinner in a few hours.”
“Oh. Well, that’s all right,” he said, trying to keep a smile on his face, though I could read the disappointment from where I stood across the room.
“But maybe some other time?”
He perked his head up. “I’d like that.”
“I—I didn’t catch your last name, Jack,” I said, my statement more of a question.
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