Trip’s visit was the last time. Seeing him brought back too many memories. Debbie was dead, and I was still alive. All the things I’d done surrounded me. They grew and grew until they were taller than the Empire State Building, heavier than the Great Wall of China. The demons crowded so close I couldn't breathe.

  Of course, Scar doesn’t want me. He found me that night and carried me back to his place. It was the first time I slept at his side, but I don’t even remember it. I only remember waking up here, after he brought me home.

  My phone is in my hand, and I scroll to Trip’s number. I haven’t seen or heard from him since our last visit to New York. The last time I lay at Scar’s side and slept like a baby.

  Blake said Trip is gone. She said she doesn’t know where he is, and she doesn’t care. She never trusted him, but he was my friend.

  Touching the screen, I watch it change as the call goes out, seconds ticking. Is he really gone?

  The screen changes again, and my heart stills.

  “Does your sister know you’re calling me?” Trip’s casual, always so bored with the world tone drifts through my empty bedroom, and fresh tears fill my eyes.

  “You answered.” I’m lying on the floor holding the phone to my face.

  “When have I ever not taken your call?”

  “I wasn’t sure how much had changed.”

  “Oh, hell, everything has changed.” I hear the clink of ice against crystal, and I imagine he’s lying on a sofa in a suit holding a vodka like always. “You’re a country girl now, Blake is engaged to a giant, the old gang is shattered… Is this a setup?”

  “Are you kidding?” I laugh through the tears. “I needed to hear a friendly voice.”

  Someone who wouldn’t judge me.

  “Are you crying?” The question is more bored than concerned, an older brother rolling his eyes at my foolishness. “Did that brute succeed in breaking your heart? He truly is undignified. Did you know he nearly broke my neck?”

  “I’m sure you deserved it.” I push off the floor, touching the tears from my eyes and wondering just how much nobody told me about our last trip to the city. “I’m so tired of being treated like a baby. I’m twenty-one now.”

  “Ah, that’s right. Sorry I missed it. Happy birthday, a few weeks late.”

  “Thank you, a few weeks late.”

  “I’d have taken you out for your first, legal bender, but I guess all of that’s behind us now.”

  Wrinkling my nose, I imagine us being retired from the party scene now that I’m actually old enough to enjoy it legally.

  “I miss everybody. Nobody tells me anything except what I’m doing wrong. What’s new in the city?”

  “I have no idea. I’m taking a break from the madness. It was getting a little too true-crime for my taste. You know I don’t like intrigue.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re in St. Moritz with your mother.”

  He laughs loudly. “Good God, I’m not desperate. No, I’m somewhere warm.”

  “That could be anywhere.” I sigh, looking out the window at the blooming crepe myrtles. “I wish I was at the beach.”

  “Aren’t you near one?”

  I hadn’t thought about it. Now I’m thinking about my pictures. Miranda Beach is less than a half-hour drive from here. I’m thinking of Scar there, in the waves, in my arms…

  “Did you hear I got a show? It’ll be in a few months at the Milo gallery.”

  “I did not. That's incredible.”

  “Will you come?”

  “Send me the info, and I’ll consider making an appearance.”

  Pressing my lips together, I trace my fingernail along the edge of the quilt covering my bed. “I need to repay my debts, Trip. I want to start fresh, make up for what I’ve done.”

  His voice turns serious. “I don’t know if that’s possible. Some things can’t be undone. You know what happened to Grish.”

  “I heard he had a heart attack, which is weird. But he wasn’t my friend. He only ever talked to Blake.” Leaning my forehead against the side of my mattress, I close my eyes. “Who’s running Gibson’s now?”

  “You’re asking all the million dollar questions, aren’t you?” An edge enters his voice. “You sure this isn’t a setup?”

  “I don’t know how to prove it’s not. I told you nobody tells me anything.” Exhaling heavily, I rise to my feet, walking to the full-length mirror in my bathroom. “I feel lost, I guess.”

  “What do they say? If you’re at the bottom, things can only get better?”

  “Not in my experience.”

  He chuckles. “Perhaps I’ll see you in a few months.”

  “How shall I say goodbye?”

  “Ciao.”

  He’s in Italy… “Ciao bella.”

  “Chin up. You’re Hana fucking van Hamilton.”

  A smile ghosts across my lips as we disconnect, but I feel even more alone.

  I want to do better, but Trip says it’s too late. Walking through the elegant bedroom suite my great uncle provided, I change out of my bikini and into a long-sleeved, beige caftan dress. It’s Oscar de la Renta, and Debbie made fun of me for dressing like Billie Eilish when I bought it. I argued it’s not Gucci.

  Eat.

  I pull my hair up in a bun on my head and make my way down the stairs to the kitchen. My phone buzzes in my hand, and I look down to see a text from Pepper. Can’t make the skate park today. Tomorrow?

  I’m actually relieved, even if I know work would take my mind off things. Pepper would help me feel better. She always lifts my mood.

  I pause and quickly text back, Tomorrow’s great.

  Looking up, I see Blake standing at the bar, eyes fixed on her ever-present iPad pro. She’s holding half a sandwich, and she’s wearing a tight beige wrap-dress that hugs her curves and shows off her full breasts. It makes me want to pull on another layer of clothes.

  When I enter, her gray eyes flicker to mine, and she smiles, shoving a dark brown lock behind her ear. “I didn’t know you were here. I thought you were doing a photo shoot with Pepper.”

  “She had to reschedule.” I go to the refrigerator and open the door, looking for anything easy and super fattening. Pizza would be perfect.

  “I made chicken salad if you want some. It’s in the green bowl. I’m trying to decide what type of cake we want for the wedding. Plain white almond or strawberries and cream. What do you think?”

  “Mama would say almond.” Pressing my lips together, I pull out the bowl of healthy chicken salad and set it on the bar. Then I pull out four slices of bread and the jar of mayonnaise.

  “Mama? Really?” Blake watches me as I add a scoop of mayo to the first slice of bread. “You know, adding mayonnaise will make it bland, and I used my special seasoning.”

  Her voice goes higher when she says special seasoning like it’s a tease. I continue adding the extra condiment. Going to flavor country isn’t my goal here.

  Helicopter sis steps closer. “What’s up? You seem a little… down. Pardon the pun.”

  I put the knife down and take a big bite of sandwich. She’s right. It’s bland, and I wish I’d listened.

  “Hey.” Blake reaches for my arm. “What happened? Talk to me.”

  Lowering the sandwich, I exhale heavily. “I don’t know. I’m wondering what I’m doing here. I’m a photographer. I should be in New York.”

  Her slim brows furrow, and she tilts her head. “I thought you loved it here. You said New York was so toxic.”

  “This isn’t my home.” I try another, bigger bite of goopy sandwich. “I don’t fit in here. Everything is wrong.”

  Even as I say the words, they hurt. It’s me that’s wrong.

  Blake presses her lips together like she’s thinking, and she walks back around to where she left her iPad. “I think anyone who’s been through all you have is entitled to a down day every once in a while.”

  “It’s more than a down day.” My voice hardens as anger simmers to life in my chest.

  “Okay.” Her voice is soft. “You’ve just seemed so happy here, getting to know people, taking pictures. Carmen loves you, and Pepper thinks you’re the greatest.

  I know she’s right, and the anger grows hotter in my chest. I don’t have a snappy comeback, which just gives Blake more room to talk.

  “I’ve been so proud of you.” She returns to where I’m standing. “You’ve been working so hard, and I see it. I really do.”

  Clenching my teeth, I fight the emotions churning in my chest. They have nothing to do with her. “Not everyone would agree with you.”

  Reaching out, she places her hand on my cheek. “Not everyone knows you like I do. You’re so much more than our old life.”

  Glancing up, her eyes are glowing. “You’re proud of me?”

  “Yes.” She smiles warmly. “It’s okay to feel lost sometimes. I do, too, but we’re here. We’ve come so far. Don’t give up now.”

  Nodding, I leave the sandwich on the bar and start for the door. I’m not giving up, and I’m pissed as hell. I have come a long way, and he’s going to see it.

  “I’ll clean this up when I get back. You’re right–about all of it. I’ve got to take care of something.”

  8

  Scar

  My shoulders are tight, and everything that happened today is a lead weight in my stomach. Hurting Hana is the heaviest. The memory of her pretty cheeks stained red with embarrassment, her beautiful blue eyes filling with tears.

  Fuck. I couldn’t be a bigger dick if I kicked a dog.

  Scrubbing my fingers against my eyes, I explain to Hutch. “I can’t tell you over the phone. It’s not secure.”

  “Sorry, man, I didn’t know taking Pepper to the orthodontist would be an all-day deal. They’re doing impressions, and then they want to sit down and make a plan. Didn’t they used to just slap braces on us? It feels like overkill.” He’s distracted but happy. He’s always wanted to be a dad.

  “I don’t know.” I’m not happy.

  “Shit, I’m sorry. I forget you didn’t have this as a kid.”

  That’s putting it mildly. “We need to talk soon. I should have told you all this in the beginning, but I guess I’d hoped…”

  I don't finish that sentence because it’ll make me sound naïve, which I’ve never been. I know what I left behind and what could easily bite me in the ass at any time.

  “Can you at least tell me what it’s about?”

  Glancing around the empty house, I don’t think my phone is being monitored, but I don’t know what might have changed since my slip-up in Gibson’s. “I need to fill in the gaps between when you left me at the hospital to when I came here.”

  I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t punch me in the face for putting us all at risk. I’d let him, too, even if we’re pretty evenly matched. He’s two inches shorter, but he’s bulkier than I am. Motivation would be the deciding factor, and I feel like I deserve an ass-kicking right now.

  “Does something need to happen? Dirk can help get the ball rolling if it’s a security matter.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. We can decide after we talk.”

  He can decide if I need to go away for good, if I’m the security threat.

  “Damn, I’m sorry to put you off. Want to meet up at the house later tonight?”

  Pulling the ring on my lip between my teeth, I know he likes to have his evenings for family time. Still, “I’m not sure it should wait until tomorrow.”

  “I’ll text you when I’m out of here.”

  Disconnecting, I shove my phone in my pocket and place my palms flat on the wooden bar. If he tells me to leave, I’ll have to say goodbye to Hana. Can I do that? Can I leave her here without protection?

  Dropping my head, I exhale heavily. At least she’ll be safe from me.

  Sliding my hand over the bar, I made this piece of furniture. I found the cypress, chopped it up, sanded and carved it, then put it all together. I made one for Hutch as well.

  I can make a fucking piece of furniture you’d pay top-dollar for at a store. Why can’t I be as careful with people?

  A noise behind me puts me on guard. Shit. Is somebody breaking into my house? Turning quickly, I’m startled by the sight of Hana standing in my doorway.

  I’m surprised. Energy surges in my chest, and I want to touch her. She’s breathing fast, and she’s dressed in some odd dress-cape-type thing that looks like an enormous, ivory burqa. Still, she’s glowing bright.

  She closes the space between us like a blonde tornado. Her jaw is clenched, and anger ripples off her in waves. “I have something to say to you.”

  Lifting her hand she gives my shoulder a hard shove. At least, she seems to put some effort into it. I don’t move.

  Everything I want to say twists in my chest as my eyes consume her. She’s adorable, so spicy with rage. I want to wrap her in my arms.

  “Tell me.” My voice is low.

  “I’ve only been sweet to you. You have no right to speak to me like you did today. If I were a big girl, you wouldn’t tell me to lose weight. There’s no difference. I’m trying to get healthy, and I don’t need you body-shaming me. I don’t need your hot and cold. You’re not my boss. I’m a grown woman, and…”

  She hiccups as her breath gives out, and a tear spills onto her cheek. I can’t hold back any longer. The threat of losing her knots my stomach, and I can’t walk away anymore.

  Stepping forward, I pull her into my arms. She’s so damn small, I completely engulf her in my embrace.

  Her body is tense, but I lower my face to her ear. “I’m sorry.”

  She stills in my arms, and her fingers, which were curled against my shoulders, unfurl.

  With every heartbeat, this feels so right. This is where she belongs, in my arms where anyone would have to kill me to hurt her.

  I smooth my hand down her pretty curls, pressing my palm against her lower back and drawing her closer. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

  Her hands slide higher until her arms are around my neck, and her voice is soft. “Okay.”

  The guilt twisting my lungs eases. I squeeze my eyes shut. I want to kiss her, but–

  She turns her face, cupping my cheeks with her hands and pulling me down–or am I pulling her up? All I know is our mouths collide, and our lips seal together.

  In that instant, everything changes. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I lift her, pressing her back to the wall.

  Our mouths open, and a soft whimper slips from her throat as our tongues slide together and curl. Her fingers thread in my hair, and she pulls the ring on my lip with hers.

  My fingers grip her ass, cutting into her soft skin, and I drag my mouth along the line of her jaw. She exhales another little moan, and my dick is a rod in my jeans. Tightening her arms around my neck, she stretches her body higher so her mouth is at my ear.

  “At last…” she gasps, and blistering fire floods my veins.

  She arches her back, and her pelvis grinds against my cock. Her dress is pushed up, and I want to rip off her underwear and fuck her against this wall.

  She kisses my brow, my eye, and I chase her mouth, needing the sweet taste of her lips one more time. She’s crack cocaine. One hit, and I’m addicted.

  Our mouths seal together again, and her fingers scratch through my beard. It feels so good.

  My hands slide from her ass to her waist. I want to keep going higher. I want to slide them over her breasts, lifting and squeezing. I want to circle my thumbs over her hardened nipples now pressing against my chest. I want to slide them lower, between her legs, up and down until she’s panting and wet, moaning my name. Yes, she is a grown woman, and I want to claim her.

  “Fuck,” I growl, forcing myself to stop this.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  Our lips part with a smack, and I take a step away, allowing her legs to lower, her feet to find the floor. Her hands remain clutched in the front of my shirt, but I brace my palm against the wall over her head, keeping space between my body and hers.

  “I’m sorry.” My voice is gravel. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Her pretty eyes flutter open, and she’s breathing fast. Hell, we’re both breathing fast. I can’t tear my gaze from her beautiful face. Her cheeks are flushed and her pink lips are swollen and so fucking kissable.

  “Why did you stop?” Her hands remain on my chest, and her slim brow furrows.

  “I can’t do this.”

  “You can’t?”

  She waits for the reason, but I can’t tell her why either. I can’t pull her further into my world, endanger her with my past. She came here to be safe, and here I am, threatening all of it.

  Reaching up, she touches my face with her hand, and I open my eyes to see her smiling like she doesn’t care what I say. Her thumb touches my bottom lip, tugs on the ring there, and my insides hum with a mix of adoration and regret, desire and despair.

  Curling my fingers against the wall, I push back, going around the bar. The electricity between us is stronger than me, and now that I’ve touched her, I’m not sure I won’t do it again.

  She watches me retreat, a little smile curling her soft lips.

  Glancing to the side, she crosses her arms. “I accept your apology, but you still hurt my feelings.”

  “I was a dick.”

  “Yes, you were.” She pokes out her cute lips like she’s plotting her next move. “And I think you should make it up to me by doing the photo shoot we discussed. I’d like to drive down to Miranda Beach. Have you ever been there?”

  Nodding, I slide my hand along the top of the bar. “It’s where I got the wood to make this–and Hutch’s.”

  Her big blue eyes blink wider. “I thought they looked similar. You made them?”

  “It was a while ago, but yeah. I found an old cypress tree and cut it up.”

  “That’s perfect. Would you do it again and let me photograph you?”

  “It was after a hurricane. I haven’t seen cypress down there in years.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that. We can scout around, find something similar and go to work. Forget I’m even there.”

  I could never forget her presence. Reaching behind my neck, I rub the tension rising from my shoulders. I need to tell her no.