The Closer You Come

“Time,” they said in unison.

The loud crunch and grind of heavy metal forcibly changing shape suddenly echoed. He and Beck shared a look of concern before taking off in a sprint. The first thing Jase noticed as he rounded the corner to the front yard were the headlights blinking on and off—West’s headlights. Smoke curled from the hood. A hood wrapped around a tree.

Jase quickened his pace. “I thought he was in his room.”

“He was.”

“West!” He reached the door first—the mangled door. He and Beck had to work together to wrench it open. West spilled out, blood dripping from the center of his forehead.

“Call 911,” Jase said, catching West before the guy hit the ground.

“That tree had it coming,” West slurred, the scent of alcohol pungent on him.

Oh...hell. “Forget 911.” The law would only make things worse. “Let’s get him inside.” Jase slung his arm around West’s left side, and Beck came up to his right side. They acted as crutches, leading him toward the door.

“You could have killed someone,” Beck muttered.

“How? Didn’t drive anywhere,” West said. “Would never. Just reparked my car.”

“And purposely hit the tree?” Jase asked.

“Told you. Tree had it coming.”

“This,” Beck ground out.

Jase knew exactly what he meant. This was how West self-destructed around the anniversary of Tessa’s death.

Beck added, “Get ready. It only gets worse.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

LIFE SUCKED.

Just when Brook Lynn had started to get things together, to step through the heaven-on-earth door, fate had closed in behind her, tied a blindfold around her eyes, forced her to turn in a thousand circles and step through the hell-on-earth door.

How could she have been so wrong about Jase? How could she have pegged an ex-con as a cop or a soldier?

“Okay,” she heard Jessie Kay say, “you’ve moped enough.”

Brook Lynn cracked open her eyes. Her sister was stretched out on her bed. When had that happened?

“I’m not moping. I’m brooding. Big difference.”

Since the breakup— No, no, they hadn’t broken up. Since the decision to take a break—better—she’d left the house only once, when Kenna had dragged her to another dress appointment, hoping the change of scenery would cheer her up...but after she’d sobbed all over the salesgirl about the unfairness of life, her friend hadn’t asked her out a second time.

“Just go away.” Brook Lynn rolled to her other side—and came face-to-face with Kenna.

The redhead smirked at her, all it’s not over.

They’d surrounded her!

“Go away, both of you.” She tried to pull the covers over her face, but her sister ripped the material out of her hands...and kicked it to the floor.

“It’s nine o’clock at night,” Kenna said.

“So?” she demanded. “Your point?”

“So. You haven’t gotten up yet.”

“You and Jase broke up and—” Jessie Kay began.

“We didn’t! We decided to go on a break,” she corrected, depression and guilt settling over her like another blanket.

She’d just run out on him like a scared little rabbit. Because that’s what she was! And it hurt, knowing she wasn’t the woman he needed. Accepting. Comforting. Maybe he knew it, too. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t come after her. Why he hadn’t done anything to convince her that her fears were unfounded.

Not that the blame fell fully on his shoulders. She could have called him, but hadn’t.

If only her mind weren’t at war. On one hand, she knew that while he’d committed a crime, he’d been a teenager at the time and had since paid the price. And really, he’d paid far more than a few years behind bars. Obviously, he’d paid in blood and pain.

On the other hand, she’d seen glimpses of rage in him and now didn’t know if she could trust him in such a state.

Still...part of her wanted to be with him.

Gena Showalter's books