“Nothing. I’m fine.” The lie tasted bitter.
“Joy Davis, I’ve known you since we were in diapers. Talk to me.”
Joy rubbed her eyes, exhaustion and anxiety crashing into her. “It’s nothing. I’m just being paranoid.”
“About what?”
“I—” Joy broke off, unable to admit that after all this progress, after sleeping in her own bed for over a week, after putting her life back together, she was right back where she started.
Jumping at shadows. Seeing threats where there were none.
“It’s just been a long day,” she finished lamely.
There was a pause. “If you say so,” Amari said, clearly not believing her. “But if something’s going on?—”
“It’s not. Really. Only in my mind.”
Joy changed the subject by asking about Amari’s latest medical drama, and they chatted for a few more minutes. After they hung up, Joy stood in her silent kitchen, the half-prepared meal forgotten. There was no way she could eat now.
She tried to force herself back to normal. Turned on music. Made herself a cup of tea. Sat down with her book.
But her gaze kept drifting to the window, to the door, to the shadows in the corners. Every creak of the house settling sent her heart racing. Every whisper of wind against the siding sounded like footsteps.
When her phone buzzed with a text from Bear, she nearly jumped.
Still awake? Sorry I’m so late. Hudson needed help behind the bar. I can come over if you want company.
Joy stared at the message, torn between wanting him there and shame at her regression.
Long day for both of us. I’m about to crash anyway. See you tomorrow?
Count on it. Sweet dreams, Bug.
Sweet dreams.As if.
Joy’s eyes burned with frustrated tears as she locked and rechecked every door and window. She tried to lie down in her bed, but after twenty minutes of staring at the ceiling, flinching at every sound, she gave up.
“This is pathetic,” she whispered to herself, grabbing her pillow and an extra blanket.
The cold night air bit at her skin as she crossed the yard to the playhouse. It was exactly as she’d left it ten days ago—small, cramped, but somehow safer than her own home. The insulation Bear had added kept it from being completely freezing.
She curled onto the narrow cot, wrapping the blanket tightly around herself. This felt like such a massive step backward. All that progress, all that healing—gone in a single day of paranoia.
She closed her eyes, embarrassment and frustration burning in her chest. What would Bear think if he knew she was out here again? What would any of her friends think? They’d all worked so hard to help her reclaim her house, and here she was, abandoning it at the first hint of unease.
As sleep finally began to pull at her, one thought circled relentlessly: maybe she would never be normal again. Maybe this broken, fearful version of herself was who she would always be now.
Maybe the attack had taken more from her than she’d ever be able to get back.
Chapter25
Bear wiped down the polished oak counter at the Eagle’s Nest with broad, methodical strokes. There was never much of a rush on a Thursday night, and they were down to the usual handful of locals nursing their last drinks. Classic rock played at a low hum from the speakers, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter from the couple in the corner booth.
He glanced at the empty space where Joy should have been—weaving between tables with that easy smile, tossing jokes back and forth with the regulars. She’d taken tonight off to work on her food truck menu. The place felt different without her energy filling it.
“You going to stare at that same spot all night?” Hudson’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Bear looked up, realizing he’d been absently polishing the same section of wood for the past minute. “Just making sure it shines.”
