Wrath

And it was fast becoming her only compelling reason to make it through the day.

“I never,” he began, putting down his shot glass. “I never kissed you here.”

“Liar.” Kaia caught her breath as he put his arms around her waist and kissed the long curve of her neck.

“How about here?” he murmured, lightly grazing his tongue along her skin and nibbling her earlobe.

She closed her eyes and sighed heavily.

As if from a great distance, she could hear her cell phone ringing and knew who it would be. Was it only a few weeks ago that Jack Powell had seemed the consummate prize? The handsome, mysterious French teacher who was totally off limits and totally unable to resist her-he had it all, just as Reed had nothing. So why let the phone ring and ring? Why let Powell sit in his squalid bachelor pad, wondering and waiting, while she hooked up on the back of a pickup truck?

Kaia didn’t know.

But with Reed s arms wrapped tightly around her, his curly black hair brushing her cheek, she also didn’t care.

Dear Adam, I know you said you never wanted to hear from me again.

Adam Morgan held the match over the letter and paused for a moment, mesmerized by the dancing orange flame. It burned so brightly in the desert night. He dropped the flame into the darkness-and watched it spread.

I’m sorry. I know I’ve said it before, and you won’t listen-but Fm not going to stop. I can’t, not until…

The envelope had arrived on his doorstep after dinner. She hadn’t even had the courage to stick around. Probably too afraid of what he’d say. But Adam had promised himself that he wouldn’t say anything at all. Not ever.

I know you think I betrayed you-betrayed what we had. But you have to understand, it’s only because I love you. And you love me, I know you do.

He hadn’t bothered to read it. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, he’d climbed into his car and driven out of town, down a long stretch of deserted highway. He’d pulled over to the side of the road and climbed out. Scrambled over pebbles and spiny cactus brush, with nothing to light his way but the crescent moon. Fifty yards into the wilderness, he’d stopped. Crushed the letter and flung it to the ground.

Lit the match.

If you would just let me explain, Adam. I had to get you away from her. She wasn’t right for you. She couldn’t give you what I could. She couldn’t love you like I did. Like I do. We’ve been friends forever-more than friends.You can’t give up on us. I can’t, I won’t.

The flame was slow, almost deliberate. It ate into the letter, blackening the edges. The pages curled in the heat. The letters swam in front of his eyes, nothing more than meaningless black crawls. None of her words meant anything now; everything she’d told him over all these years had added up to nothing but lies.

For a moment, Adam was tempted to stick his hand in the flame. Maybe a physical pain, torn and blistering flesh, would steal his attention from the other, deeper pain that refused to go away. But he kept his hand still. And the letter burned.

I’ll keep apologizing until you hear me. Until I can make you understand. I can be a better person. I can be anyone you need me to be. But I can’t do it without you.

The letter was almost fully consumed. Adam was getting cold, and knew he could stop now, stomp out the fire, and leave the remaining fragments for the animals and the elements.

But he waited, and the fire burned on.

I miss you-don’t you miss me?

And on.

I need you. We need each other.

And on.

Please.

And then there was just one smoldering fragment left, curling into the flame.

Love forever,

Harper

Adam stamped out the glowing pile of ashes and walked away.

Chapter 2

Beth held herself perfectly still, hoping he would change his mind and disappear. She didn’t want to have to speak, but doubted she’d be able to force herself to stay silent. She didn’t want to cry, or give him any indication whatsoever that she still cared, because, of course, she did. And more than anything, she wanted to stop.

“Hi,” Adam said softly, sliding into the empty seat to her left.

If only the assembly would begin. Then there would be no chance for conversation, and Beth could pretend he wasn’t there.

She hadn’t looked in his direction yet, but she’d felt him hovering, wondering whether or not to sit down. Despite everything he’d done, it was as if a part of them was still connected. And maybe that was why she couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, longing to smooth down the windblown tufts of blond hair.

With a few words, she could have him back. “I forgive you.” That s all it would take, and she could curl up against him again, his arms warm and strong around her. She could be a “we” again.

But she’d promised herself she would never forgive him-and unlike Adam, she kept her promises.

“You’re not going to talk to me?” he asked.

Let him figure that one out for himself.

“At least look at me!”

Her lip trembled. I will not cry, she told herself.

“Fine,” he spit out. She could tell he was struggling against his temper. “Then just listen.” It’s not like she had much of a choice-but it was a long time before he spoke again.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he whispered as he reached for her hand. She whipped it away, afraid that if she let him touch her, or if she looked into his clear blue eyes, her anger might drain away.

She willed the principal to take the stage and begin the assembly; it was her only escape.

“What do you want from me?” Adam pleaded. “I said I’m sorry. I told you it wasn’t my fault-”

“And whose fault was it?” she snapped. This was good. The more he denied, the more he evaded his responsibility, avoided how much he’d hurt her, the angrier she got. And that made things so much easier.

“Kanes,” he pleaded. “Kaia’s… Harper’s”

Beth flinched at the name. It was true, Harper had manipulated him-Adam had just been stupid enough to let her. It was Harper who’d convinced Adam that Beth was cheating on him. Harper who’d enlisted Kane to prey on Beth’s weakness and dupe her into a relationship based on lies. And, of course, it was Harper who’d swooped in to collect her prize-Adam-after he’d dumped Beth.

But even Harper couldn’t be blamed for the most painful betrayal of all. No one had forced Adam to sleep with Kaia. He had no excuse-he and Beth had been together, they’d been happy, and he’d knowingly destroyed it in one stupid night.

“Is that supposed to fix everything?” she finally asked. She still couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“I don’t know. I just… I wanted you to know that I’m… I mean, if we could just-” He suddenly stopped, and then she did turn to face him. He was doubled over in his seat, his head plunged into his hands.

“Just stop,” she begged, forcing herself not to lay her hand against his broad back.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I still love you.”

He said it in a pained, strangled voice, without lifting his head. Beth didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Once, those words had been able to fix anything. Now they just left her feeling emptier than before.

“I love you,” he said again.