Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
I exhale slowly, wrapping my arms around myself. It’s not just fear. It’s the loneliness too. The kind that sneaks in when the house is quiet and the day is done and there’s no one to lean on. No one to share the weight. No one to say, I’ve got you.
I think about this morning. About Tucker sitting at the counter. About the way he stepped in without hesitation. The way he made Roger leave without even raising his voice. The way I felt cocooned. Safe.
I shake my head.
This is dangerous thinking. Men like Tucker don’t belong in lives like mine. They don’t stay. They don’t build anything steady. They burn hot and fast and leave wreckage behind.
I know better. I stand, pulling the covers back further. Time for bed. Time to sleep. Time to dream about the better days ahead.
The doorbell rings. Sharp. Loud. Stifling contrast to the quiet of the night.
My entire body locks. For a second I don’t move. Don’t breathe.
The bell rings again.
My heart starts pounding. I glance toward the hallway.
Quinn.
Still asleep. I need it to stay that way. When I first left Clint, I would rent one bedroom hotels and then one bedroom apartments. It has taken me months since moving to Freedom Falls to get her sleeping in her own bed alone. If this noise wakes her I’ll have to read the book in bed with her all over again and even with that she may not sleep easily again.
I step out of the bedroom quietly, my bare feet silent against the floor as I move toward the front of the house.
The bell rings a third time.
Impatient. Demanding. My stomach drops. Did he find my house?
I don’t need to look through the peephole to know who it is. But I do anyway.
And there he is.
Not Clint.
Shock sets in as I see Roger in front of my door. Leaning slightly to one side, his eyes glassy, his expression already irritated. Drunk. Of course he’s drunk.
I close my eyes briefly. “Go away,” I whisper to myself.
The bell rings again. I unlock the door before I can talk myself out of it. And open it just enough to stand in the frame. “What do you want?”
“Finally,” he slurs. “You gonna ignore me all night?”
“You need to leave.”
“I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Not like this.”
He steps closer. Too close.
“I said we were going to talk, Lucy.” His breath permeates stale beer. “You got a kid. She’s home. I saw her at school today. Cute kid.”
“She’s asleep.” I explain as fear creeps up my spine at the thought of him watching my daughter at school.
“Wake her up.”
“No.”
His face darkens. “You don’t get to keep avoiding me.”
“I’m not,” I say, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I’m busy and yes, I have a daughter and I don’t want to confuse her Roger.”
“About me?” he scoffs. “That’s rich.”
“Roger—”
“No,” he snaps. “You don’t get to act like I’m the bad guy here. I know you got an ex, a baby daddy. But you won’t even give me a chance and I’ll be the best thing that ever happened to you.”
My fingers tighten against the edge of the door. “Please leave.”
“Make me.”
The words hit like a slap. My chest tightens.
Don’t freeze.
Don’t freeze.
I push the door harder, trying to force him back off the step.
“Roger, go.”
He doesn’t budge. Not even an inch. Instead he plants his hand against the doorframe.
Blocking it.
Blocking me.
My breath stutters. Old fear claws its way up my spine. “Move,” I say, my voice thinner now.
“No.”
My vision tunnels slightly. I hate this. Hate the way my body wants to shut down. Hate the way my mind starts slipping.
Then—A sound cuts through everything.
Low. Powerful. A motorcycle.
Roger glances over his shoulder. “What the—”
A single headlight floods the driveway. The engine cuts off. Before either of us can react, a man I’ve never seen before strides up the walkway. Fast. Focused.
And without a word, he grabs Roger by the back of his shirt and yanks him away from the door.
Roger stumbles. “Hey—what the hell—”
The stranger doesn’t answer. He just shoves him off the porch like he weighs nothing. I gasp, stumbling back a step. Another engine roars into the driveway. My heart leaps into my throat.
No.
It can’t be—The second bike slides to a stop. Immediately, I recognize the tall frame. His stance is confident, and his focus is on me.
That’s when Tucker swings off the bike.
My chest tightens. He looks from me to Roger to the other man.
“What’s going on?” he asks the stranger.
“Guy was in her doorway,” the stranger says.
Tucker’s jaw hardens instantly. Roger scrambles to his feet, furious.
“You people need to mind your own damn business!”
Tucker steps forward. Slow. Controlled. “Pretty sure you lost that argument earlier today.”
Roger laughs harshly. “You don’t scare me.”
“Not trying to.” That calm voice again. Worse than shouting.