Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
It was the smell that did it for Delaney.
Charred plastic.
Something burning.
She didn’t even notice the way the lights on their side of the salon flickered from the short because she was desperately trying to blink away the memories flooding her mind’s eye. It could take mere minutes for a building to practically burn to the ground. One good lungful of smoke to choke out her tears.
She couldn’t blink those away, either.
It was like Delaney wasn’t even standing there in Linda’s salon. Her surroundings morphed into a familiar sight, but flames licked at the floorboards around her feet and nothing about it was right.
It wasn’t real.
It still felt like it.
Her night- and daymares of fire didn’t happen as often as they used to, but the random intrusive images still took her by surprise every single time.
“Delaney—Delaney!”
“Are you okay?” she heard someone else ask.
Good God.
Why couldn’t she breathe?
“Delaney!” Linda shouted close to her face.
The woman shook her shoulders hard.
That helped a bit.
Delaney blinked to find her boss standing in front of her, and Linda must have saw the flash of awareness. “There you are, huh?”
“I … I just need a second,” Delaney managed to say.
Alone, she wanted to add, but didn’t. Couldn’t.
“Sure,” Linda replied. “Take all the time you need. The bathroom, maybe? Clean up your face a bit.”
A new, but familiar, voice joined the conversation. “Is everything okay?”
Oh, God.
Delaney swung away from Linda and the rest of the salon, including Lucas Dalton, who had yet to leave. Apparently. She made a beeline for one of two bathrooms at the back of the salon only to hear Linda filling in the blanks for the rest of the room.
“She has a thing about fire, I think?” Linda said. “Someone burned down her place a while back. She testified at the trial last year. The one upriver—didn’t you hear?”
It looked like Delaney’s day could get worse.
Chapter 3
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Delaney mumbled, embarrassed, into her hands.
A sigh echoed from across the quiet apartment. The only true sign of her cousin’s irritation even though Delaney’s apologies had not stopped from the moment the two left the strip mall salon.
“Why on earth are you apologizing to me?” Bexley asked.
“You had classes, Bex. You didn’t need me having a meltdown at work.”
Putting the episode mildly, Delaney knew. The humiliation of hearing her boss recognize Delaney’s plight and explain to the entire salon, including clients, why she’d freaked out kept her locked in the back bathroom and refusing to come out. Mostly because she couldn’t get her hands to stop shaking.
Linda was understanding.
At least.
Delaney, when she felt up to it, would need to sit the woman down in private and make sure it was clear that she should never share her employee’s personal business again. Certainly not in such a public manner. The last thing Delaney wanted to do was even think about her next three shifts at the salon for the week because she couldn’t envision a path forward where the people at work wouldn’t question her about things, now.
That was triggering, too.
“I didn’t mind leaving classes to come help,” Bexley said, joining Delaney on the couch.
She couldn’t even manage to lift her head from her hands as the cushions shifted next to her, and a hand rubbed soothingly up and down her arm.
“It was all a refresher today, anyway,” her cousin added, doing her best to minimize Delaney’s guilt. Not that it would work. “You know, for coming back from break, and all. It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it.”
No, it was a big deal.
Despite having a license, Bexley didn’t own her own car. She preferred public transport to go to and from school, or cabs if she was bar hopping on the weekend with friends. She hadn’t hesitated to call a cab and come to collect Delaney and her Jeep at the salon twenty minutes away from her nursing college.
Fucking the rest of her day, too, surely.
“You shouldn’t miss classes for me,” Delaney muttered. “I’m twenty-five. My baby cousin doesn’t need to be running after me because I can’t get my emotions and thoughts under control, okay?”
Bexley sighed loudly again.
She let Delaney rant, though.
“I mean, it’s been two goddamn—”
“Language, hey. Let’s not bring God into it,” Bexley interjected, sounding entirely too much like her mother—Delaney’s aunt.
“It’s been two years,” Delaney snapped. Not at her cousin, really. Just the situation overall. “The Haus burnt two freaking years ago, okay? I should be able to see a few sparks and smell something burnt without having panic attacks, right?”
Bexley remained quiet next to her on the couch.
Delaney glanced her way, finally. “Right?”
“Maybe it’s not that simple?” her cousin offered with a little shrug.
“What does that mean?”
Bexley tipped her head back and forth like she was trying to ease Delaney into believing what was about to come out of her mouth before she’d even said it. “You remember how Callie Smith counseled you and Gracen after the fire?”