I took one more pull from the cigarette in my hand, then dropped it to the pavement and covered it with my boot. My eyes were locked on the apartment window across the street. Pepper had made it clear that I wasn’t to call or come by Dolly’s, so I stayed on the bench across the street and watched to make sure she was safe. I had typed out at least fifteen texts to her and deleted them in the past forty-eight hours. Sending her a fucking text didn’t feel right.

  She deserved more than that. I just needed my sister to leave the damn apartment so I could get close to her.

  “I’ll send Brick,” I told her.

  “What are you doing about Canyon?” she hissed.

  “His ten days are almost up. We’re going to find him,” I replied, fighting the need to light up another cigarette. “He’ll be handled soon.”

  Pepper let out a weary breath. “Take that crazy Mafia guy that everyone is so scared of with you.”

  She was mad at me, but she was still worried about me. That was a good sign.

  “Presley,” I replied. “He’ll be there, along with some others.”

  “Okay, good. Then, you get that done. Don’t get put in prison. And stay away from Dolly.”

  Only the first request I could promise, the second thing was a possibility, and the last one was a no. I was going to see Dolly, and Pepper was going to have to get the fuck over it.

  “How is she?” I asked, staring at the window as if I could actually see shit this far away.

  “Fine. Better. Why do you care?” She was annoyed. “Did you have a sudden stroke of guilt?”

  “I care about her, Pep,” I admitted.

  It was possibly more than care. I was struggling with it. What I did know was that I missed her. I thought about her all the time. I wanted in that goddamn apartment so bad that I was close to snapping and going with Pepper in there so that I could see for myself that Dolly was okay.

  Pepper was silent for a moment. I saw her walk out of the building and pinch her temples as she held the phone to her ear, not knowing I was watching her.

  “Micah, she’s fragile. You caring about her is not okay. She can’t handle you and your ways.”

  “Why is she fragile, Pep?” I urged.

  It had been keeping me up at night. Knowing there was shit in her head that was dark. Worrying that she was hurting herself and I wasn’t there to stop it.

  “Her past isn’t an easy one. It’s not something I talk about to anyone. Mom doesn’t even know. Just…she has emotional trauma going back to when she was nine years old and her dad died.”

  Losing your dad was hard. I knew. But I couldn’t say it had caused emotional trauma. She’d had a mom. One she seemed close to—or had been…I thought. I hadn’t really paid much attention back then.

  “Okay,” I said, waiting for her to explain more.

  I watched as my sister ran her hand over her head and stared up at the sky, as if she was struggling with what to say.

  “We lost a dad too,” I pushed, knowing she wanted to say more. I could see it in her body language.

  “We didn’t find ours hanging from a rope in the garage,” she replied, and her shoulders slumped.

  Fucking hell. The pain in my chest caused me to reach up and press against it with my hand.

  Taking a deep breath, I looked back across the street at Pepper. “Her dad hung himself, and she found him…when she was nine?”

  “Yes,” she said with a deep sigh. “Yes, she did. But that is only the beginning. I can’t tell you more. The rest is something she has trusted me with. The suicide you could find easily enough if you dug it up. It wasn’t a secret.”

  How the fuck did it get worse than that? Why would a man do that in his home, where his child could find him?

  “I need to see her, Pepper.” I wasn’t asking permission. I was just letting her know. At least when she found out I went over there the minute she left, she couldn’t say I’d lied to her.

  “She doesn’t need to see you, Micah,” she said sternly, and her entire body tensed.

  I watched as she stalked toward her car, as if she were coming to find me and physically stop me.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because she’s going through something, and I think it’s because of you. I think it is you. That, or it’s the combination of Canyon using her and you…you taking her virginity.”

  If she wanted me to stay away, that had been the wrong thing to say. No one was keeping me from her.

  “If I’m the cause of it, then why can’t I be the solution? Maybe she needs to see me. Ever think about that?”

  Pepper slammed her car door shut. “Actually, I did. I considered it. But…this is you we are talking about. What Dolly needs, you can’t give her.”

  “And what is that?” I shot back at her, waiting to see that Mustang disappear from sight so I could make my way over there.

  “Unconditional love.”

  Well, fuck.

  22

  Dolly

  As my moka pot heated up, I stood in the kitchen, staring at the knife block. Pepper being here had been a distraction. She’d kept my mind occupied the best she could. But I was alone now. With my thoughts. The pain that had been there, slowly itching to grip hold of me, was no longer being pushed back.

  Walking over to the knives, I took out the smallest one. The paring knife. I used it to peel apples. Staring down at it, I could already feel the relief it could bring me. I just had to slice a small piece of skin and let blood trickle out. Pepper wouldn’t know. No one would.

  I reached for the knob on the stove and turned off the gas eye. Espresso wasn’t what I needed, and I knew it. Walking over to the closest kitchen chair, I sat down and pulled up my sundress. My gaze went to the marks I’d made with my nails. They were almost gone, leaving nothing but faint marks of where they had been.

  Pressing the tip of the knife on the upper part of my inner thigh, I moved it slowly, wincing as the sharp sting grew worse.

  “One hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two.”

  The thick blood oozed out, and I stopped as my eyes watered. I set the knife down on the table and let out a small sob as I watched the red trickle run down my leg. When it ran under my leg onto the seat, I covered my mouth in horror at what I’d let myself do. Again.

  One hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two.

  It had been years since I’d done this. I had become a stronger person—or so I’d thought. The horror of my past I had shut away. Closed it off. Let it go. But now, here I was, opening the door. Shame, guilt, self-disgust all began to settle over me. It was as if old bullies had shown back up to taunt me. Some I knew all too well.

  One hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two.

  Knocking at my door broke into my inner turmoil, and I stared in that direction, but I didn’t get up. I wasn’t in the right state of mind to deal with people. They’d go away. More knocking, then Micah’s voice.

  “Tink?”

  Standing up, I started to go to him and paused, looking down as blood ran down to my knee. Turning, I rushed over to the sink to get a paper towel and wet it. I had to clean this up. I didn’t want Micah to see me like this. I didn’t want anyone to, but especially him. He’d know I was damaged.

  He’d come to see me. That meant something. Right?

  “Dolly!” he called louder and knocked again.

  I had to hold the paper towel on the wound and apply pressure. I’d cut deeper than I’d intended. The sound of keys in the lock caused me to panic. The door opening and heavy footsteps had me moving faster. Taking the bloody paper towel, I turned and shoved it into the trash can.

  “Dolly, where are you?” Micah sounded worried.

  He would be horrified if he caught me like this. I had to clean up the blood on the floor, chair, and even table where the knife had been, but I didn’t have time. Keeping him out of here was the only option. Grabbing another paper towel, I held it to the cut as I made my way out of the kitchen, then squeezed my thighs together to hold it there when I reached the living room.

  Micah came walking back out of my bedroom at about that time. His eyes locked on me, and relief softened his tense expression. “Tink,” he said with a sigh and made his way over to me. His eyes searching my face. “You’ve been crying.”

  Crap. I’d forgotten about that. I’d been more worried about the blood.

  I shook my head and wiped at my face. “I’m fine,” I assured him. “What’re you doin’ here?” I asked him.

  He stopped in front of me. “I wanted to see you. I had to wait until Pep left.”

  “Why?”

  He hadn’t wanted to see me after we had sex.

  He cupped my face in his hands and brushed his thumbs over my cheekbones. It was hard to remember why I shouldn’t be letting him do this when he looked at me with those blue eyes like I was special.

  “I missed you.”

  No. No, he was just saying that. I knew better. Pepper had been right all along. I was too naive. I shook my head.

  “I’m not buying that, Micah Abe,” I told him and tried to step back, but I felt the paper towel I’d forgotten between my legs and stopped before it fell to the ground.

  “I need to explain,” he said.

  “No need. You can just go.”

  Hearing him tell me any excuse was dangerous. I was likely to fall for it hook, line, and sinker. Simply because I wanted it to be true.

  “Tink, you don’t mean that,” he murmured as he ran a finger over my bottom lip. “You missed me too. Didn’t you?”

  Yes. I didn’t tell him that though. I stayed silent.

  “I want you to trust me,” he whispered, staring down at my mouth.

  He hadn’t exactly done much to earn my trust. Or anything at all really. Except the fact that he’d been gentle during sex. He made it good for me. I had known it wasn’t supposed to be good the first time—or even the first few times. I’d heard stories about it. Micah made sure it was special.

  Then, he’d walked right out of the room, taking the bloodied sheets with him.

  “You want me to trust you? I did. And then you left me alone to go tell…some blonde woman that I was boring and was bad at sex.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about? Blonde woman? Fucking Dylan? Did she come to my room?”

  I just stared at him. He seemed sincere…sincerely pissed off.

  I shook my head. “No. She stopped me on the stairs when I was leaving.”

  His nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched tightly.

  “Tink, not one moment with you was boring. It was fucking spectacular. One time isn’t gonna be close to enough for me.”

  “Did you come here to have sex again?” I blurted out.

  He chuckled. “No. But once we’ve talked, if that’s an option, then, yeah, baby, I’d like it very much.”

  My entire body began to tingle with anticipation. I had to stop this. I couldn’t do this with him. Placing my hands on his chest, I shoved away from him. Before I could feel proud of myself, I felt panic instead. The paper towel fell to the floor, and I froze. There was a chance he wouldn’t notice. I could steer him toward the door. Tell him I wanted to be alone. That I needed time to get over it.

  His eyes narrowed, as if he was trying to read my thoughts. He tilted his head as he looked at me. A strand of his blond hair that wasn’t long enough to fit in the ponytail fell over the side of his face. Then, his gaze trailed down my body until it stopped on the floor.

  For a moment, it was like watching this all play out in slow motion. I had to say or do something.

  When he bent to pick up the bloody paper towel, I took another step away from him. Lies began forming in my head, and I tried to think of the most believable one. I started to open my mouth to spout it out when he grabbed my leg with one hand and jerked my sundress up with another.

  I attempted to squeeze my legs together, but he pulled it open, then sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Tink,” he said tightly, “what did you do?”

  I struggled to grab on to an excuse and verbalize it. They all seemed weak and unbelievable. I shook my head instead of saying anything. Micah stood up, his entire body now rigid as he grabbed my hand and began walking me toward the kitchen.

  No, no, no, no, no. This was bad.

  I pulled back on my arm, trying to slow him or redirect him.

  His hand wrapped around my wrist and continued to tug me with him. When he walked into the room, he froze.

  His hand squeezed my wrist and then let go. “What the fuck, Dolly?” he whispered.

  I closed my eyes and turned to run out of the room, but he was quicker than I was. His hands grabbed my waist and stopped me. The ragged breath he took as he held me quietly for a moment told me he was struggling with this. The lump in my throat was there instantly.

  One hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two.

  “Why, Tink?” His voice was thick with emotion.

  I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. “I don’t know,” I lied. I knew. I’d had hundreds of hours of counseling that taught me why and how to overcome it.

  He pressed his face into my hair. “Please, tell me how to fix it.” He sounded as if he was in pain.

  I shook my head. “You can’t.”

  We stood there silently, and he turned me around to face him before pulling me into his chest and holding me. I could hear his heart pounding rapidly. My hands fisted in his shirt, and I clung to him as the tears came and the lump began to ease.

  He reached down and scooped me up, then walked back to the living room, carrying me over to the sofa, where he sat down and continued to cradle me in his arms. He rested his forehead on the top of my head. “I will maim, kill, torture, whatever I need to do to whoever caused this if you will just tell me why, who. Point me in the right direction. Something. Just give me something here, Tink.”

  I stared at his arm wrapped around me. There was no one he could do any of those things to in order to fix this. Even if my aunt were still alive, him harming her the way…she had done to me…it wouldn’t heal what she had damaged. That was permanent. The past couldn’t be rewritten.

  “There is no one,” I said, turning my head so that he could see the truth in my eyes. “Nothing you can do will erase history.”

  He was silent a moment before saying, “Tell me. If I know, I can help you. I will help you. I never want you to hurt your body again. I can’t stand it, Tink. This perfect skin is…precious.”

  I had two options here. Tell him the truth, which meant trusting another person with my secrets. Or refuse to open up and possibly push away a guy I didn’t want to leave.

  23

  Micah

  I wanted to rage. Destroy something. Tear the wall down brick by brick. The only thing holding me together was Dolly in my arms.

  Pepper had said she was fragile. She knew about this. She had stayed, for fear of Dolly doing this to herself.

  My arms tightened around her, and I watched as her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.

  “When I was nine years old…” she began, and I realized what she was about to tell me.

  Part of me wanted to tuck her in my arms and carry her far away from that memory. Tell her not to say it. I didn’t want to cause her any more pain. But the sane part of me knew she was trusting me. She was opening up, and I had to let her do this. I needed to know. If I was going to help her, I had to know what I was dealing with.

  I reached for her hand and threaded my fingers through hers, then held it firmly. With her eyes locked on our hands, she seemed to relax some.

  “It was my dad’s forty-ninth birthday. My mom was making his favorite meal—meatloaf. She’d made him a buttercream cake the night before, and I was so excited about getting to eat a piece after church. I’d made him a card.” She paused as a sad smile came and went just as quickly to her lips. “I went to find him and give it to him. He…he had gone out to the garage earlier, and he did that often to tinker with his model cars and listen to the radio. He liked country music, and Momma believed it was a sin, so he only played it out at his workbench with the volume real low. He was good about things like that. Respecting Momma’s beliefs when I don’t think he really agreed with her much. He never said it though.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I prepared myself for the rest. I knew it was coming, but I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing the pain on her face as she told me. My thumb caressed hers as I waited.

  “He had taken the green rope, which he used every December to tie the Christmas tree to the roof of our Volvo wagon, to hang himself. I…I found him there. In the garage. Hanging by that rope. I think I was in shock. I remember feeling sick, then numb. I had to tell Momma. Someone had to get him down. It looked awful. It was a terrible sight to see.

  “I went back to the kitchen to tell Momma, and the dread of her reaction when she saw him made every step I took harder and harder. I counted them. Those steps. Every last step I counted. From the spot where I had found him until I stopped in the kitchen to tell my momma that Daddy was hanging in the garage. One hundred twenty-two.” She whispered the number. “One hundred twenty-two steps.

  “Momma raced to him, screaming and wailing. The rest gets blurry. Our neighbor heard her, and he came. The cops came. Church people came and brought food.

  “The next few weeks, Momma closed herself away. She didn’t eat much. When I tried to get her to, she refused. She rarely left her room. When I hadn’t shown up for school in two weeks, they finally called, but I answered. They wanted to talk to Momma, but she wouldn’t pick up the phone.