Kera kisses my cheek. “I’ll tell you soon, I promise. Just remember, I can’t abide suffering.”
I turn to Leo. “What does that mean?”
He shakes his head. “Chick thing. If I were you, I wouldn’t try to dissect it.” He gives a sharp wave good-bye and starts down the porch stairs. “I’ve got to go clean out the back of my truck. It stinks like dead meat.”
Kera waves and says in a quiet, sweet voice, “Thank you, Leo.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He waves back and disappears around the corner of the house.
I turn, fold my arms across my chest, and lean my hip against the rail to watch Kera. She’s found another animal and this one is carnivorous? Her cheeks pinken as I continue to stare. She won’t look at me. “Kera, did you find another animal?”
She dips her head and still won’t make eye contact.
“Let me rephrase that. It’s not a secret. We know what you’ve done.”
“You know?”
“Bringing Leo into it was the tip-off. Grandpa says you can’t keep it. It’s not right. Dangerous, even.”
Her obsession with the cute and cuddly is sweet, but what if the animal turns aggressive? What if it has rabies? Has she thought of that? Does she know about that kind of thing?
She slides her hands along my crossed arms, slips her fingers between mine, and brings our hands together until we’re palm to palm and toe to toe. The misery on her face reflects her dilemma. “I’m not trying to keep him. He won’t leave.”
Having her this close is distracting. The smell of her. The way her lips tip up at the corners. The softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. I force myself to stay on topic. “You’re feeding him, that’s why.”
“But he’ll die if I don’t.” She steps closer, pressing her body against mine. “Or worse, he’ll start eating things he shouldn’t.”
“I know the little guy is probably cute and all, but if people around here find out what you’re doing, they won’t take the same view. They’ll say it’s a pest—it’ll destroy things—and some will say it’s better off dead.”
She instantly pulls away, horrified. “You would kill him? Truly?”
The sudden, yawning space between us throws my senses into a panic. I want her back in my arms, close and cuddling.
“Not me,” I quickly say. “I could never hurt anything you cared for.”
The lines on her face relax and she steps closer, running her hands up my arms to my shoulders. “I promise he won’t be a bother. I have him tied up in the woods. He won’t go near anyone. I’ve made sure.”
“Tying up a wild animal isn’t the answer.”
“He’s only a little wild. Truly, he needs me.”
“You can’t keep him.”
She drops her head to my chest, and I feel like a jerk trying to contain her loving, free spirit. I let out a heavy sigh. I’m going to regret this, but I can’t stop myself from saying, “Fine. Do what you have to do, but then —”
She jumps in my arms, cutting me off, and strangles my neck as she places kisses all over my face. I am
I stop thinking about everything except getting close, sliding my hands down and over her hips and pulling her closer.
The front door opens and a gasp sounds. “Dylan! Hands!”
We jerk apart, but I don’t let Kera go. I slide my arm around her waist and give it a reassuring squeeze. Kera gives me an innocent smile, not in the least bit upset about getting caught with my hands on her butt.
I smile back, and shoot a sheepish glance at the not-so-amused woman at the door. I clear my throat. “Sorry, Grandma.”
She shakes her head, knowing I’m not, and approaches us. “Kera, sweetheart.” She takes her hand and pulls her away from me. “Will you help me finish preparing dinner? It’s almost ready.”
“Of course.” Kera kisses me one last time. “You should rest.”
“Yes.” Grandma opens the door and ushers Kera in, then looks back at me, an adorable scowl on her face. “He’s had a busy day.”
I smile and follow them inside. “You keep telling me to keep busy and not be narcissistic, whatever that is.”
“You know perfectly well what that word means. Egocentric self-absorption leads to recklessness, and my goodness, you’ve been reckless today.”
On my way through the kitchen, I give her a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll do better.”
“Hmmm.” She pulls down a pot from the cabinet and eyes me skeptically. “One can only hope.”
…
The next day passes with little drama. The barrier is quiet. It’s a nice change of pace. Kera leaves to tend to her new pet in the woods. I don’t press her about it. She knows I’m right, that she can’t keep it, and I trust she’ll do the right thing. Midmorning, Wyatt arrives. We run. We spar. We keep it mellow, mostly because my technique isn’t stellar, though my speed and strength impress him. I make the mistake of asking after his brother, Reece.
“No sign of him.” He busies himself with the gear he’s stowed in the back of his truck. Poking through this, pulling out that. I can only guess what he has planned next for me.
I shake my head and wipe the sweat from my forehead. “Do you know where he could be?”
“Not a clue.” Turning back to me, his mouth thins. “Dad’s pissing mad and Mom’s worried. It’s not like Reece to leave without saying something.”
“You’re really worried about him.”
He gives me a funny look. “Yeah. My family’s tight.”
Definitely something I can’t say about Mom and me. Thinking about it makes my chest heavy and my throat thick. “It’s only my mom and me. I don’t have any idea where she is. Funny thing is, with all the shit she’s put me through, I still don’t hate her. If that’s not a kick in the ass, I don’t know what is.”
By the nervous expression on Wyatt’s face, I’ve just broken Bro Code Number 7: Never, under any circumstances but death, give out too much emotional information.
It’s not like he doesn’t know about Mom. He’s just a stereotypical guy who lives by the Army rule of suck it up.
And then he surprises me by slapping me on the shoulder. “I never should have said all that stuff about your mom. Her leaving doesn’t mean she doesn’t care. Her issues run deep.”
“Center of the earth deep.” My throat is so tight, air uncontrollably jags into my lungs.
He squeezes my shoulder again and pulls away. “Yeah, well, sometimes you’ve got to let go and let them get their act together.”
It’s nice of him to try, but he doesn’t get it. I let go of Mom years ago. Only some odd sense of guilt kept her close, but as soon as she got over that unexpected sensation, she ran like a dog seeking a hidden stash of bones.
Wyatt pulls out a harness and straps it onto me, then affixes the end of the harness to a wide board with footholds screwed to the top of it. “I call this dogging it.”
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what I’m supposed to do. “I’m going to pull you, aren’t I?”
“Yep. Don’t act so depressed,” he says, fitting his feet to the footholds. “This’ll be fun.”
His idea of fun and mine are not the same.
By late afternoon, I’m totally spent. I don’t feel as jittery. Maybe this whole “keep him exhausted” strategy will actually work.
Ensconced on the couch in front of the television, I channel surf, not really paying attention to what I’m seeing. Kera just got back from walking her new pet in the woods, and she’s helping Grandma in the kitchen. I’m relaxed. Happy. I actually have people who care about me. It’s a little unnerving. I’m not used to the attention. Seriously, how long can it last? So far, all the crap that’s been flying in my life since I arrived hasn’t turned them away. It’s kind of amazing.
Amid the familiar noise of canned laughter, yawn-able news headlines, and catchy commercial music, I hear a sharp, irregular tapping. Tilting my head, I try to locate the sound.
