Split

I wonder what Lucas is doing now, if he’s missing me or grateful I’m gone.

I roll to my side and my eyes fix on a warrior kachina my mom gave me when I was young. Its vibrant black and red face is dull with a light coating of dust and the eagle feather headdress is muddied with age and no longer displays the brilliant brown pattern. Holding a bow in one hand and an arrow in the other, he still appears fierce, prepared for battle.

She told me he was a protector. A great warrior who would keep me safe.

She was wrong.

The carved wood holds no more power to protect me from pain than I had to keep my mom on this earth.

Stupid Navajo myths and their ridiculous promises.

If only my mom were here now. She’d tell me what to do about Lucas. Why don’t I just let him go?

There’s something about him that’s impossible to walk away from. Like an injured boy being held captive by his abuser. But Gage isn’t his abuser; he’s his warrior kachina. His real-life protector made of muscle and bone and capable of inflicting damage on anyone who stands in his way. Pushing anyone who has the potential to hurt Lucas away, but also everyone who has the potential to love him. If I want to spend time with Lucas, I need Gage to stop seeing me as a threat.

I don’t know how to convince him I won’t hurt Lucas. But I suppose pain to them is different than it is to me. It’s possible I’ve been hurting Lucas this entire time and not even known it.

So many questions tumble around in my head, but in order to get answers, I have to see Lucas and, worse, risk triggering Gage.

If that happens, do I trust him enough not to hurt me?

Would I bet my life on it?

I wake with a start. A firm hand on my shoulder shaking me.

Oh no, he’s back!

“No!” I thrash and kick. “Don’t touch me!” My fist connects with something soft.

“Oomph!” My bed dips. “Fuckin’ hell, Shy. You didn’t have to hit me.”

Cody?

I blink open my eyes and the room is dim, but there’s sunlight from behind the curtains.

“What time is it?” I rub my eyes and try to calm my racing heart. “What’re you doing here?”

He works his jaw around a couple times, wincing. “It’s almost noon, Merryweather.” His expression grows dim and he sets his dark eyes on me. “Some assholes broke into the McKinstry house last night. Fucked it all up.”

I sit up. “What?”

He shakes his head. “Yeah, probably a bunch of kids. Anyway, the security company called and I told Dad I’d come check it out. He’s gonna stay up there one more night, come back in the morning.”

“Why didn’t security call me?”

“Said they tried, didn’t get an answer.”

I rub my forehead. Shit, that’s because I was being drowned by the alternate identity of the guy I kinda like. “Damn, I’m sorry, Code. I can go down there and take care of it and you can head back to the lake.” I swing my feet over the bed, but he stops me.

“Nah, go back to sleep. I got it. Got a guy coming with me. Between the two of us, we should have it done in no time. Besides”—he stands and peers down at me—“you look like shit.”

I throw a pillow over my head and shove my middle finger into the air.

“Dad said you’re working at Pistol Pete’s?”

“I am. Which is why I need my sleep.” I shoo him away with my bird-flipping hand.

He chuckles. “Sweet. I’ll see you there. No way I’m missing my big sister serving a bunch of drunk-ass mountain dicks. What time . . .”

The bed dips again and the sound of the curtains over my bed being opened make me want to throw something at my brother. “You said I could sleep. Shut those—”

“Gotta go, my guy’s here.” The bed bounces and his heavy footsteps retreat.

His guy is here? I didn’t hear a car pull— Oh no!

I spring from my bed and rip open the curtains. He must see the rapid movement from his leaning position on my brother’s truck, because his eyes instantly find mine.

Lucas.

I want to smile, wave, do something friendly, anything to wipe that blank look from his beautiful face. A chill races up my spine and the sting of inhaling cold water still burns in my nose. He cringes, as if he can read my thoughts, and his expression goes from blank to hurt. My arms long to comfort him, but I shake my head, slide closed the curtain, and drop back into the safe, warm cocoon of my bed.

Walk away from it all, Shyann.

Get the hell out of this town and never look back.





LUCAS


I can’t pull my eyes away from the window. As if I stare at it hard enough I can get Shyann’s face to reappear. Not that I need to actually see her to see her. Those light eyes, all that black hair, and those lips star in every dream I’ve had since we met. Every time my thoughts wander off, she’s there waiting.

I’m obsessed.

Consumed.

Totally infatuated.