“Heaven?” a very familiar voice calls.
My skin prickles and my stomach rolls. My heart starts racing at the speed of a galloping stampede of cattle. I don’t respond or move. I can’t. I’m frozen like a statue, praying my ears are wrong. Praying he will just walk away from me. Knowing he won’t.
Two hands grab my arms, dragging me back to my feet, but I keep my head down. Or I try until those hands cup each side of my face, forcing me to look into those deep blue ocean eyes. They’re different than I remember. Sadder, but they are still as beautiful as they ever were.
I swallow hard as I stand face to face with my past, knowing the person I really don’t want to see isn’t far behind. He never is.
“Heaven,” Maddox breathes like he’s waited a lifetime to see me again. It feels like a lifetime. Maybe it was. Another lifetime.
“I uh – I got to go,” I tell him, trying to pull away from him. I make it half a step before he has me again.
“Slow down,” his beautiful voice soothes. Maddox Masters was born to sing.
“I – I,” I start again, unable to find words.
Then I see him. That sly grin that always looks like he’s up to no good, those arched brows that only pronounce his devilish demeanor, and that swagger. Ryder always had so much damn swagger.
I jerk away from Maddox again, this time too fast and too far for him to grab me again. I look around, trying to decide the best way to go so Ryder can’t see me.
Panic fills me to the brim. Seeing him across the building is bad enough, but my heart can’t take seeing him up close and personal.
“Heaven, just stop for a minute,” Maddox pleads.
But I can’t. I shake my head. The minute I pick my path, my eyes lock with his. His wide smile disappears, and his brows fall in a moment of confusion before his entire face morphs into absolute fury.
If I thought my heart was racing before, now it feels like it might explode. My already tear-filled eyes flood over as I gasp, throwing a hand over my mouth. I turn, running in any direction other than his until I’m out of the building. I run. I run fast and hard until I can’t. Until I remember to text Deliah to pick me up. Then I slump to the ground and let the sobs take over.
Heaven
Hemorrhage
“Are you sure you are okay, Heaven?” Delilah asks me for the millionth time as we make our way back home.
“I’m fine,” I repeat with a sigh.
“I still don’t understand why you ran.”
“You know exactly why I ran, Delilah. Seeing him is too damn hard.” We have played this game for nearly an hour. It’s like a broken record, repeating the same things over and over. It’s a game I’m getting sick of.
“Seeing him isn’t hard, Heaven. Seeing him is easy. It’s your guilt that makes it hard.” She says it casually, like she didn’t just shove a knife in my back.
“Seeing him is never easy. Even just a picture in a magazine or a flash on tv still hurts, and it has absolutely nothing to do with guilt. I don’t have anything to feel guilty about,” I snap. “He made his choice. I made mine. I have other things to worry about right now.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Do you have any idea what you’re going to do?” she asks, giving me a look full of pity that rubs me in all the wrong ways.
“Yeah, Delilah. I’m going to magically pull out twenty-five thousand dollars from my mattress to catch up the diner payments and make the mortgage on the house.” I’m harsh. Unreasonably so. But this day has been hell from the start and last night wasn’t much better, thanks to my little brother.
I don’t even know how I will handle him if we lose the house. He is already out of control and so angry. If this is taken too, he’s going to snap.
I will too. I don’t know how this could happen. A month ago, I lived in a tiny two-bedroom apartment and worked at my parents’ diner. They were alive, and my little brother was happy. Now, we’re essentially orphans on the verge of losing our home— I gave up my apartment to stay with Matt — and I’m about to be unemployed.
I may snap anyway. I don’t know how much more I can handle.
“Do you have any of the money left? From Ryder?”
I swallow hard. I wish I did, but that money has been gone for a long time. “It’s all been used on medical bills.”
“I may have a solution, but you’re not going to like it,” Delilah tells me without making any effort to look at me. A sure sign it’s not going to be good. “Should we pull over before I spill this solution?”
