It had been like that for the past couple of days. A preoccupied Shay walking through each morning, afternoon and evening with shadows under her eyes. She lifted her hand to take a swallow from her soda can and Jace’s stomach tightened when he saw a deep scratch on her forearm.
He grasped her wrist, bringing the wound close for an inspection. “How did this happen?”
“What?” She blinked at him, glanced down at the line of dried blood, shrugged. “I don’t know.” Turning her head, she looked around as if the source of the scratch would stand up and salute.
He tamped down his concern. It was a minor hurt, after all, but he couldn’t like her preoccupation. Pouring water from his bottle over the scratch, he took a longer study of her face. “You shouldn’t be up on a ladder when you’re so distracted.”
She blinked again. “What?”
“Shay.” He dropped the empty bottle and dried her skin with the hem of his T-shirt. “I know you aren’t sleeping well. I hear you puttering around at night.”
“Strange dreams,” she said, slipping her wrist from his grasp to inspect the broken skin herself.
“Something has happened,” he said. “Or something has changed.”
Her gaze jerked to his face, then jerked away. “Nothing’s happened. Nothing’s changed.”
It was her own fault, he decided, that he wanted to keep pushing her. From the very first she’d let him into her private inner self, the core of her that her family thought she kept unknowable. When she’d shared her dislike for birthdays and later revealed more fully the discomfort she felt with the circumstances of her conception, she’d planted the seed that grew into this...caring.
It wasn’t something he was comfortable feeling—concern, worry about her well-being—but she’d hooked him. So now he wanted to know what was troubling her. That’s what friends are for, she’d said to him at the theater, and friendship was a two-way street, damn it.
“Let me help,” he said. “Tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours. Maybe I can do something.”
“No.”
Her refusal spiked his temper and he plunged his hand into the cooler’s icy water in an attempt to chill it down. He pulled a second bottle of water free. “I don’t like seeing you unhappy.”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
He eyed her, noting the edge to her voice. “That sounds like it has everything to do with me.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You get that little bit of body language from London. So you know, it’s just as annoying when you do it.”
The observation startled a laugh out of her. “I’m not surprised. I wonder how long it will take me to drop the bad habit?”
Jace reached out to touch her hair. It sifted through his fingers like warm rain. “Ryan once told me you wouldn’t let yourself get close to London—but I think he’s wrong. You’ll miss her.”
Shay hesitated a moment. “I’ll miss her.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?”
“I’ll get over that. I’ll get over all of it.”
All of it? He frowned at her, disliking when she turned away from him so he couldn’t see her face. Their time together was coming to an end and he hated the idea of leaving her in this odd state of—he didn’t know. Yes, he could stop prying, but, damn it, he’d like to do right by Shay.
“What do you need to get over? Can I help? Let me help.” He was practically begging.
“I’m fine—”
“You’re clearly not fine,” he said, temper snapping, and his hand shot out to turn her toward him again. “I’m not going to give up until—”
“Until I admit how stupid I am?” Temper had lit her eyes, too.
He pulled her closer. “You’re not stupid. Never that.” His palm caressed the curve of her shoulder. “What is it, honey?”
“I—” She bit her lip.
“You...?”
Snagging the unopened bottle of water out of his free hand, she stepped away. She gave great attention to unscrewing the cap. “I thought there were adoption papers.”
“Huh?”
“I was told, since I was a child, that Dell Walker formally adopted me.”
“Okay.” He remembered her asking her brother about the documents. “And...it’s not true?”
She nodded. “Brett’s known for a long time. He said Dell meant to go through with it—the adoption—but it cost money and so I guess he put it off and then...”
He thought she swallowed back a sob. “And then he passed away?”
“Yes.” She rubbed one hand over her face. “My brother and sisters say it doesn’t matter. Of course they’re right.”
But it did matter. It mattered to her.
“Oh, honey,” he said, reaching to take her into his arms.
She jolted back. “Don’t touch me. I can’t have you touching me right now.”
The panic in her voice put him on a new alert. “Shay,” he said. “That’s not all, is it?”
“Leave me alone.” Again, that panic.
“You can tell me anything.”
“Not this.”
The misery on her face made his gut turn itself into a pretzel. He had to do something for her. He had to make whatever it was right. Determined, he reached for her again just as his daughter came rushing into the clearing, her face red, her hair disheveled.
Jace’s gut twisted tighter and he lurched forward. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s happened?”
London ignored his questions and turned her tear-filled gaze toward Shay. “I’m fifteen,” she said. “I’m fifteen and I’ve never been kissed!”
While that didn’t sound like a calamity to Jace, clearly there was some subtext that he was missing. He glanced at Shay and she returned the look, her eyebrows rising.
She wasn’t getting what the tragedy was, either.
“Um...” Jace said, at a loss. “Would you like a soda?”
His daughter sent him a withering glance. “Wh-what will that do?” she wailed, and then launched herself at Shay.
The story that poured itself out in words and tears took some time to make sense to Jace. When he finally absorbed the salient facts, his fingers curled into fists. “I’m going to kill that kid,” he declared.
London turned in the circle of Shay’s arms to stare at him. Shay did the same. “No!” they said at the same time.
His daughter turned back to Shay. “I shouldn’t have told you,” she said, hiccupping between each word. “I would have told my friend Amy, but she’s Colton’s sister—”
“Of course you couldn’t tell her,” Shay soothed.
“I’m so h-humiliated. Nobody in the whole world has ever felt so ashamed.”
Shay patted her back. “I know it feels that way right now.”
“What if I see him again? I’ll have to throw myself in front of a car if I see him again.”
“Then he’ll know he hurt you. Better to keep your chin up, swing your hips and smile.”
London lifted her head. “S-swing my hips?”
“It’s a female thing,” Shay said, her lips curving just a little. “I’ll demonstrate later.”
“Is it kind of like pretending you’re having the best time ever?”
“It’s exactly like pretending you’re having the best time ever.”
Another shudder ran through London. “Maybe I can do that.” She wiped her palms over her wet cheeks. “This is awful, though. What must he be thinking?” She burst into more tears.
Instead of answering, Shay drew her close again. The girl laid her head on the woman’s shoulder. “R-remember how you t-told me that time it was g-going to be all r-right?”
Jace didn’t know what to do, so he just stood there watch
ing as Shay smiled, her eyes closing. “Yes. And it’s going to be all right now, too.” She pressed a kiss to Jace’s daughter’s hair.
That kiss felt like a dart to his heart.
Minutes passed as London’s crying came in fits and starts before tapering off at last. “I’m g-glad I told you,” she said finally, looking at Shay, her lashes spiky and wet.
“All girls know how it feels to be rejected. It’s a sad truth of life that you can like a boy—like him a lot—and he might not return your feelings. There’s nothing you can do to change that. You can only put on a pleasant front and fake it until you make it.”
London hiccupped again, sighed. “I wish he hadn’t heard,” she said with a quick glance over her shoulder.
Ouch, Jace thought, another dart. That he was him. Shay met his gaze over his daughter’s head. He twisted his mouth in a wry smile, shrugged. It was no more than he deserved. “I think I’ll take a walk.”
When his daughter whipped around, alarm written all over her face, he held out both hands. “Not in the same direction you came from.”
Her shoulders relaxed.
He turned, took two steps away, then, without giving himself a chance to change his mind, spun back. “London.”
Her gaze was wary as he approached.
He cleared this throat. “You’re wondering what that rat—”
“He’s not a rat,” she said quickly. “He didn’t ask for me to kiss him.”
Jace nodded. “Okay, we’ll give him a medal.”
“Let’s not go that far.” A ghost of a smile warmed her sad face.
It might as well have been the most brilliant rainbow to ever grace the sky. “Anyway,” he said, “you’re wondering what Colton thinks.”
She shrugged.
“As the only one here with the male mind-set, I think I can actually clue you in.”
Another shrug.
“I’m betting he feels sorry that he hurt you or somehow gave you the wrong impression, but he’s going to swagger a little bit, as bad as that may sound.”
“Why?” Her brows rose over her pretty brown eyes.
“Because this afternoon a smart, beautiful and funny girl gave him something special.”
New tears welled.
“Now don’t go getting any ideas about the indiscriminate handing-out of kisses,” he said with a pointed look. “But take my word for it. Any boy would be beyond flattered to be kissed by you.”
He wasn’t prepared for what came next. Lightning would have surprised him less. Instead it was a hurricane, a girl force that flew right into his arms. He closed them around his daughter as she wept against his shoulder. His heart felt like it was crying right along with her.
Happy tears.
Because, he knew, he hadn’t failed in this instance. He’d finally done something right for a female in his life. He’d finally done something right for his daughter.
* * *
SMOKE TASTED LIKE ash on Shay’s tongue. When she looked up, through the dense trees, it colored the sky with a strange reddish-gray, like a slap morphing into a bruise.
Usually the woods were full of noises, skittering birds, humming insects, the scolding chatter of squirrels and blue jays, so that she never felt alone, even on solo hikes like this one. But now it was silent except for the papery sound of the wind moving the leaves of the oaks. The branches of the cedars and pines were moving, too, but silently, as if desperate not to attract attention.
She glanced at the sky again, disquiet growing until it filled her chest, nearly suffocating her. The fire was too close.
Getting closer.
Spinning, she tried orienting herself. This was Walker land, her family’s legacy, and she knew it like other kids knew their backyards. But it looked different to her now, the trail at her feet seeming to erase itself as a small flurry of ash rained down.
She reached out to steady herself on the solid trunk of a tree. Was it vibrating with apprehension, or was it that her hand was shaking? By her foot, an alligator lizard poked its pointy snout from beneath a ragged fallen leaf and she jumped in surprise. It jumped, too, then disappeared into some nearby undergrowth.
It gave her the idea that it was time for her to get going, too.
But which direction?
She turned in another circle, trying to establish her bearings, as more gray flakes sifted down on her. Maybe if she called out, her father would find her. But she’d wandered far from his truck and the inner surface of her lips felt as if they were pasted to her teeth.
Her mouth couldn’t form words, even if someone was near enough to hear them.
In the distance, a new sound. Shay stilled, her head tilting this way and that to better identify the noise. Crackle, snap, pop, like breakfast cereal amplified.
Like flames.
Disquiet turned to pure terror. It was so absolute, so all-consuming, that her reaction must have come from some prehistoric part of her brain. Without conscious command, her feet scrambled on the dirt and decaying leaves and she began to run.
The monster was chasing her, she knew that. It was roaring, its breath hot, its anger now whipping the branches of the trees so they lashed her face and scraped at her bare arms. Each inhale brought in more heat and the dark taste of danger.
“Shay!”
She heard her name, though it was nearly lost in the monster’s voice and the sounds of her harsh, frightened breaths.
“Shay!”
Though her mouth opened, nothing came out. She was strangled by her own fear.
“Where are you, Shay?”
She didn’t know. Or she did. Hell. It had to be hell, which the books said was a burning place of fire and torture. Demons. The flames at her back, her feet skittered to a halt as one of those terrifying creatures came toward her, lurching through the trees.
It was huge, a hulking shape, with gray ash blanketing its body. Black covered its face and it had icy, crazed eyes that bored into her. Baring its teeth, it reached for her.
Jolting back, she gasped, torn between a faint and a scream.
The demon’s black claws found her flesh, bit into her skin. She screamed and over her cry she heard it speak.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JACE WASN’T SLEEPING. After his daughter’s emotional upheaval, they’d packed up and returned to the lakefront house. She’d taken a shower and a nap, and then eaten dinner. After, instead of opting to hang in her room reading or playing on her computer, she’d sat in the great room and watched TV, wrapped in a throw the color of sunflowers.
Another of Shay’s additions, he supposed.
Both he and the tutor had joined London, their gazes fixed on the big screen. First it was a singing show and then a dancing show and then a cop show and then the news. He hadn’t absorbed any of it, from “Don’t Stop Believin’” to the next day’s weather forecast.
His job hadn’t been to be entertained or gain information. He’d been there to offer any support London might need.
Finally, he and Shay had traded looks. Though his daughter’s eyes were still owl-wide, he’d made the traditional noises about bed, sleep, have a good rest.
The females in his house had retired to their side of the upstairs.
He moved to his, but found himself getting up and making the rounds every twenty minutes or so, as if guarding against an enemy invasion. Ridiculous, really, because there was no way to protect London from the slings and arrows of growing up.
But if she woke up in the night, well, he’d be on alert, ready to do...something. Make her a bowl of ice cream. Wrap her in that yellow blanket again. Tell her a thousand more times she was beautiful and smart and he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have a daughter with her humor and resilience.
That he was proud o
f her.
Of course, he hadn’t said anything about his pride or good fortune. He was so goddamn new at fatherhood he felt as if there were land mines and booby traps everywhere. What if he said the wrong thing? Did the wrong thing?
Where was the fucking map to all this? People who said men wouldn’t consult such things or stop to ask directions had never known a solitary-minded bachelor who’d suddenly become a full-time father.
In cotton pajama pants and a T-shirt, he padded downstairs, wandering the first floor. There were more flowers on the kitchen countertop, a low bowl of pale blue glass—the exact shade of Shay’s eyes, he thought—centered on the dining room table, an orchid arched from a ceramic pot on the table in the foyer.
Heading back the way he’d come, he spied a stack of textbooks on the bottom stair. He hefted them into his arms on his way up the steps. In the area used as a schoolroom, he placed the books on the table.
It was then he heard it.
A moan of distress. A muffled cry.
Galvanized, Jace rushed to London’s room, but before he even had his hand on the knob, he knew it didn’t come from her. Another plaintive, almost eerie noise lifted the hairs on the back of his neck and he hurried toward it.
Toward Shay.
Her door pushed in soundlessly. It was near-dark inside, but he’d been wandering the house without lights so he easily zeroed in on her, her hair a deep shadow against the white pillowcase.
Her head thrashing back and forth, she plucked at the covers. “No...” she moaned. “No, no.”
He crossed to her, and took a seat on the edge of the mattress to brush her hair from her face. “Shay,” he whispered. “Wake up.”
But she was deep in the nightmare, her legs moving as if she were running, one hand coming up in front of her face as if to ward something off. “Don’t, don’t, don’t,” she cried, each iteration of the word getting louder.
“Shh,” he said in a low murmur. “Shh, shh. You’re safe.”
Her eyes popped open, the horror in them revealing that whatever she saw in the nightmare was now in the room. She opened her mouth, inhaled a breath.
Jace put his hand over her lips to prevent the imminent scream.
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