“Not true,” I murmured, blindly working on the binds around her ankles. I couldn’t look away from her face. There was dried blood on her temple, her fair skin dusted with dirt, and her black hair tangled.
She’d put up a fight, my girl.
“Look at me, Margo,” I commanded, pulling the rope away from her, tossing it away.
She confessed something to me then, something I knew I was never meant to hear. “I’m nearly thirty years old and I have nothing to show for it.”
Even though I couldn’t touch her, not being able to nearly killed me. “Dammit, Temper, look at me,” I growled, getting just inches away from her face, my hands on either side of her legs.
Finally, fucking finally, her jade green eyes saw me, recognition simmering within her newly formed tears. “H-Hayes?” she rasped.
Fucking Christ.
“There she is,” I whispered.
The water was nearly boiling as I dipped my head under the stream, the memory of that day eating at me from the inside out. I washed the shampoo out of my hair before bracing my hands on the tile, my heart racing. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Fuck.”
Somehow, I’d managed to find myself in a different version of hell. This one was just like the hell I’d barely managed to crawl my way out of years ago.
Two hours later, I put my Jeep in park, my eyes on Blue Beauty, Carrie and Grayson’s house, where it was perched on a hill at the corner of the street. The driveway was full, the sidewalk lined with familiar vehicles. More than I expected.
Wasn’t this just a family dinner?
“Is the entire fucking town here?” I asked, shutting off the engine, letting my head fall back against the seat. The comfortable silence was shattered a few moments later when my cell began blaring. I stared at the ceiling of the Jeep, knowing that driving to the airstrip and stealing the jet was still an option.Jaw tight, I pulled out my phone. The cab lit up with my younger sister’s name.
“What’s wrong?” I answered, straightening in my seat.
She laughed. “Can I not call my brother to check in?”
My shoulders relaxed. “Sorry,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s been a long week.”
“Is now a good time to talk?” she asked, her voice soft. It was the same voice she used with my niece.
I glanced up at the house. “Depends on the subject, Dela.”
“Thanksgiving. Christmas. You know, the holidays?”
A deep sigh left me then. “I’ll be working.”
“Really? Just like last year and the year before that?” she quipped.
“Dela—”
“It’s been five years since you have spent a Thanksgiving or a Christmas with us, Hayes.”
“And you know why that is,” I replied calmly, regretting answering the phone. “Look, I have to go.”
“Hayes, I think we should talk about this. Five years is a long time.”
“We will. When I am ready,” I said, reaching for the door handle. “I’m not ready and you need to be okay with that. My healing doesn’t abide by your timeline or anyone else’s.”
In my life, there were only a handful of times when my sister had been stunned into silence, but unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those times. Though the slight pause gave me hope as I unfolded from the Jeep and hit the locks.
“Hayes, I didn’t mean to…” She trailed off and something in my gut tightened.
As I made my way across the street, I did what I needed to: I kept the peace. “Look, we can talk about it after the new year. I have a lot going on with work. There’s a huge case developing. Ijust know I won’t have the time to fly down there,” I lied. I lied to spare her any more pain.