“First,” Myra started, holding up a finger, “Nate was there because he is protective, but not of me. Of you and your son. Nate has nothing to do with me.”
I gave her a look but let the lie pass. “Myra, you had no right to contact Macon.”
“I had every right,” Myra said softly. “Sometimes, you need to share the load. Even when it hurts.”
I shook my head. “You don’t get to make those kinds of choices for me.”
“Your friends are trying to help you. I called Macon because you wouldn’t have. He’s not trying to take over your life. He’s not attempting to take your son from you. But we both know that somebody might.”
“Myra,” I whispered.
“I know. It hurts. It’s horrible. But it’s the truth. So, you and me? We’re going to figure this out. Along with everybody else. But I called Macon because you wouldn’t have, even though you needed to. Somewhere, deep down, you knew you wanted him to be there. And you may hate me for it, but I will always take care of you.”
“I hate that you may be right.”
“I’m your best friend. I’m always right.”
That made me snort. “I don’t know what’s going on between Macon and me,” I whispered.
We were off to the side where nobody could hear us, but I still felt like eyes were on me. Was it Adam? Or was it just the normal busybodies of Boulder, Colorado?
“So, something is definitely going on between you if you don’t know what to call it,” Myra said.
“You say that, and yet I feel like I should be the one turning it back on you when it comes to another Brady.”
Myra raised her chin. “You’re welcome to try, but some things are better left unsaid.”
“And yet you’re trying to get me to talk about Macon.”
“What happened last night?” she asked softly.
“How do you know something happened?”
“Because something changed since the last time I saw you. Maybe multiple things.”
I sighed and ran my hands over my face. “I found a cat with four kittens, and I called Macon for help.”
“Are they okay?” Myra asked, leaning forward. “How old are they?”
“Macon says about four weeks. He took them into the vet this morning.”
Myra gave me a look. “This morning?”
“He stayed the night. Again.”
“Tell me everything,” Myra said.
“It’s not as exciting as you might think. He has spent the night at my house twice. With nothing happening either time. But it’s like he’s meant to be there, and I don’t understand how that happened.”
“Dakota. It’s okay that it’s happening.”
“It’s really not,” I whispered. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Maybe it’s all right that you feel like you’re floundering. You’re in control with so much in your life, perhaps this is the moment when you can allow someone else to step in and shake things up for you. At least when it comes to your heart.”
“I don’t know if I like the sound of that,” I grumbled.
“You may not have a choice.”
I sighed and frowned as I looked down at a note under the condiments container on the table.
“What is that?” Myra asked.
“Someone left a note or something. The writing looks familiar…”
Chills broke out over my back as I looked down at the words. I held back a scream.
I’m always here.
Watch your step.
Or I’ll take him.
Bile filled my throat, and I looked around the room, but I didn’t see anyone.
“It’s him. This is his handwriting. He was here. How did he know I’d see it? Because he knew I’d sit here? Or because he figured someone would show me?”
“You’re not talking about Macon, are you?”
I shook my head and looked around, nearly spilling Myra’s coffee as Pop came over with it.
“What’s wrong?” Pop asked, her eyes narrowing.
“Adam was here. He left a note.”
“I’m calling the cops.”
“I’ll call the detective,” I said. “He’s who I need to contact.”
“There’s someone else you should call,” Myra added.
“The school. Yes, I need to call the school.”
“Okay, make that, multiple someones you need to call,” Myra said, pulling out her phone. “I’ll work on our group text. But you need to call Macon.”
I shook my head, even though I knew she was right. Macon would want to know, and for some reason, I felt like he had a right to. Something was changing between us, and maybe it was wrong for me to want him. Perhaps it was wrong for me to lean on him. But all I knew was that having him near soothed me, even as it excited me.
I was probably all wrong about this and making a mistake…yet…I wasn’t sure if I cared.
Myra started calling our friends as I called the detective. I hated the man, the way he spoke down to me. But I followed protocol, even though I knew it didn’t matter. Because nobody was going to listen to me but my friends and myself. But at least I tried.
I called Joshua’s school, and they said he was fine. They even checked on him for me, even if I felt like I was losing my mind.
And then I called Macon.
“Dakota? What’s wrong?”
I let out a breath. Again, those were his first words to me. What would happen when I called him simply because I wanted to hear his voice? I was almost afraid I would never allow myself to let that happen.
Or if I did…that we’d run out of time.
“Adam was here, at the café.”
He cursed. “Okay, shit. I’m just now seeing the texts from the others.” He paused. “Thanks for calling me. Are you okay?”
“I don’t know. Joshua’s safe. But I just want him home, you know?”
“I’m staying the night.”
“Macon,” I whispered.
“I need to make sure you’re both safe. I know it’s irrational, but that’s what I need. Will you let me?”
“I think I need it, too,” I whispered.
He was silent for so long, I didn’t know what he would say next. My heart raced, and I swallowed hard.
“Good. I’ll be there. I’ll always be there.”
I wanted to believe him—knew I needed
