T M Frazier The Outskirts (ang)

Table of Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One

THE OUTSKIRTS The Outskirts Duet Book 1

T.M. FRAZIER

Copyright © 2017 by TM FRAZIER ISBN: 978-1975741402

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. THE OUTSKIRTS Cover photo by: Wander Photography Cover model: Steven D. Cover design by T.M. Frazier Formatting by T.M. Frazier Editing by Love-N-Books

For Logan & Charley Always

Contents Fear and Love Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34

Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 The Outliers Bonus Preppy Scenes Acknowledgments About the Author Also by T.M. FRAZIER

Fear and love are very much the same. They both make your heart race and your body shake. They make you tremble and anticipate. They make you frantic with thoughts that consume. Embracing fear is the same as embracing love. It hurts. It ends. All is lost. All can be found again.

Prologue FINN

Y

ou can tell a lot about your life by the sounds around you. It’s damn frightening how quickly they can change without warning.

One day it’s the roaring and cheering of a crowd at the local game. The clinking together of beer bottles. Flirty feminine laughter. The next day it’s the sound of a radio being hastily shut off. Gasps. The dull thud you’ll never be able to rid from your nightmares. The screams are followed by the worst of it all. Silence. If you listen very closely, you’ll be able to hear something else. Something more. A sound so distinctive it can’t be mistaken for anything other than what it is. The sound of your own heart breaking.

Chapter One SAWYER

I

didn’t cry. Not one single tear. What kind of person doesn’t cry at their own mother’s funeral?

I don’t know why I was asking myself the question when the answer was a relatively obvious one. I was all out of tears. Just like my mother had been. What I did do was fixate on how much Mother would’ve hated the entire service. Men sat in front while the women stood in the back, as was our church’s custom. All were dressed in black. Mother detested black. “Family is why God put us here on this earth. Family can build us up and family can tear us down. It’s a sad day when we lose a member of our own community, a mother. A wife. One of God’s devoted children,” Reverend Desmond proclaimed. As many times as he’d met my mother over the years, he didn’t know a thing about her. Which made sense because he’d never actually spoken to her. Father always did the speaking on behalf of our ‘family’, while Mother and I stood behind him, obediently, with our heads bowed and our hands folded. Eyes to the ground. And it was because he didn’t know my mother that the Reverend’s sermon was generic at best. Cold. No personal details of any sort. What the Reverend did say was that my mother was where she was always destined to be. Happy and safe in the arms of our Lord and Savior. A burst of uncontainable laughter flew out of my mouth and when heads turned in my direction, I played it off as a sob of grief. Which, although better than laughter, was also unacceptable.

Without even looking up I could feel my father’s fury from the front row, but my outburst couldn’t have been helped. The hypocrisy was hilarious. Safe in the arms of our Lord and Savior? The Church of God’s Light believed that suicide buys you a one-way ticket to hell. Sure, they all played it off like it was an accident, but I knew the truth. Mother wasn’t accidentally hit by a car. She knowingly, and with purpose, walked in front of traffic that day. My father either didn’t know, didn’t care, or just didn’t acknowledge the possibility that it wasn’t an accident. But I wasn’t surprised. He had a way of believing what he wanted and expecting others to believe the same. Even if it was all lies. Even if those lies were about himself. Like the one about him being an upstanding citizen. A leader in the church. A devoted and loving husband and father. A man of God. Father played the part well. He looked just like a widower in the throes of grief with his head bowed. When in reality, he was probably trying not to nod off after downing a large portion of a new bottle of whiskey that morning. “She was an obedient woman…” the Reverend continued his sermon of half-truths. Obedient? That was the best he could come up with? Obedient? My head spun at his sermon. The whole truth was that my mother, Caroline Dixon, was someone who rarely smiled. She lived under a roof ruled by constant fear. She rarely left the house. She apologized a lot and often. If anyone was keeping a running tab, ‘I’m sorry’ was the sentence she spoke most often during her life, and even then, it was only said in a barely audible whisper to the floor. A realization hit me so hard I felt like I’d been kneed in the stomach. I doubled over and stumbled backward, muttering apologies to the women I’d knocked into who hopefully thought I was having some sort of fit caused by my overwhelming grief. Father glanced back, and although to anyone else he appeared sympathetic when he flashed me a sad smile, I knew better and could see the fury forming behind his cold eyes. There was no way my outbursts were going to go unpunished. I kept walking backward until I was clear of the tent and the crowd. I dropped to the ground and slid all the way down until my back was flat on the grass and the top of my head was pressed against a shiny granite gravestone. The revelation I was having would turn out to be the thought that launched a thousand ships. That day my life was changed forever, turning down a path there would be no coming back from.

If I kept on living the way I was. The same way Mother had lived. Subservient. Submissive. Abused. Battered. Then that sermon, those very same generic words and lies about a life she never lived, would be spoken at another funeral someday. Mine.

Chapter Two SAWYER

R

estless was the understatement of the century.

My right knee bobbed up and down so quickly it was a blur of dark denim skirt. I sat on the edge of my bed tapping my heel so hard I was sure if I stayed there long enough I’d make a hole and fall right through to the first floor below. Restless wasn’t allowed in his house. Neither was wearing any article of clothing that showed more than an ankle or elbow, cell phones, or any internet access that wasn’t being used for his pre-approved purposes. Mother’s funeral was hours ago. Father was attending the gathering following the service that only men were permitted to attend. I caught my reflection in the small mirror above my dresser. My hair might have been brown with a tint of red where my mother’s had been a sunny shade of blonde, but underneath the obnoxious number of freckles that ran across the bridge of my nose and cheeks, there was no doubt it was her face staring back at me. I pushed down my cuticles and glanced down at my hands, turning them over and inspecting each side. I had her hands too. And since stillness was the enemy I stood up and paced my small simple bedroom. The only picture above my bed on the white wall was a little painting of the Virgin Mary holding the baby Jesus. My father had suggested I handle my grief by prayer, and if that didn’t work, some old fashioned hard work. Like cleaning. Cleaning. He’d actually suggested that in order to get over the death of my mother…I should clean. The suggestion was the real problem. Grief wasn’t. Little did my father know I’d yet to experience it. I felt numb. Frustrated. Angry. But grief was late and I’d decided I wasn’t going to keep the lights on and wait up for it to arrive. In all my pacing around the room, I managed to knock over a pencil cup from my

desk. I knelt on the floor and began to collect them. Reaching under the bed to get the ones that had rolled under there my hand brushed against something hard. Upon further inspection, I discovered that it was a box. A box I hadn’t put there. Sliding the box out from under the bed I sat up and propped it on my lap. It was a worn shoe box. Faded pink with white lettering. There was a thick envelope, the kind you’d send large documents in, taped to the lid with my name scribbled in my mother’s hasty handwriting across the top. The first page on top of the thick stack I pulled from the envelope was a reader. As I read it to myself, it was her voice I heard. Sawyer, My beautiful girl. There is so much I wish I’d told you. Despite everything, you somehow still became a kind, smart, and capable young woman. You have so much to offer this world. More than you know. I have learned in my life that there are two kinds of people. The weak and the strong. Those who are truly strong try and lift others to make them feel just as strong. Those who are weak do their best to make others feel as helpless as they do. Surround yourself with the strong. Fall in love with the strong. Share your life with someone who is going to make you face your storms, not hide from them. I will never be able to forgive myself for not being able to give you the life you deserved but know that I loved you with all my heart and in the end, it was YOU and only you on my mind. You are the greatest gift I’d ever received. Only accept those in your life who feel exactly that same way. I’m hoping the contents of this box might help you get to know me better, and maybe along the way, you might learn more about yourself. Take my secrets and make them your own. I love you, my sweet girl, and I’ll keep loving you from now until forever. You made every single unbearable day on this earth worth every single second and more. I’m so sorry. -Mother

ANYONE ELSE WOULD PROBABLY BE in tears after reading a letter from their recently deceased mother, but I was too confused.

Too angry. How dare she tell me to be brave. How dare she write me a letter instead of sticking around long enough to tell me those things in person! I set the letter to the side. The shoebox itself was covered with miscellaneous stickers and doodles complete with heart dotted I’s and smiley faced O’s. “What were you up to, Mom?” I wondered out loud. That wonder grew when I came across a Polaroid of an old rusted truck towing a tiny camper. As far as I knew, Mom didn’t even have her driver’s license. I’d never even seen her behind the wheel before. Rusty and Blue 1995 was the caption written in her handwriting underneath in faded black ink. Inside the box was a keychain with several keys of various colors and sizes and another note from Mom. You will find Rusty and Blue in Storage Queen Unit #23. Be good to them. Also in the box was a dainty gold necklace with a sunflower pendant hanging from it. Jewelry that wasn’t of a religious nature was strictly forbidden. How long had mother had the necklace and how on earth did she keep it, as well as a storage unit full of vehicles, a secret from my father? From ME? I set the box down and slid the letter off the top of the stack, revealing the document behind it and yet another well-kept secret. It was a deed, granting me, the trustee of Bobcat Holdings, a piece of land in a town called Outskirts. Outskirts? Mother had never mentioned it. I would have remembered. She also never went anywhere by herself and only traveled when it was with my father for the tent service tours during the summer. As many questions as I had, there wasn’t time to ponder them all because headlights lit up my bedroom window as a car pulled into the driveway. I shoved the contents of the envelope back inside and slid the box back under the bed. I raced downstairs just in time to be met with the daily disapproving look of hatred from my father who was walking through the door connecting the garage and the laundry room. I silently hustled past him into the kitchen, with my eyes to the floor. His heavy footsteps following close behind. I busied myself making his dinner while Father opened the refrigerator to reach for a beer, but decided against it, slamming the door shut and grabbing a bottle of Wild Turkey from the cabinet instead.

Whiskey nights were never good nights. I smelled the liquor before he’d even opened the bottle because as usual, he’d already been drinking. When has he NOT been drinking? My mother’s whispered words from a few weeks earlier ran through my head. I must have laughed out loud. “What’s exactly is so funny?” Father barked, filling more than half a glass with the amber liquid. “Nothing, sir,” I answered, with a lifetime of false practiced politeness. I pulled out a chicken from the freezer and a few potatoes from the refrigerator. “I was just finishing my prayers.” “Prayers are meant to be said on your knees before God, not in the kitchen,” he scolded, setting a thick bank envelope on top of the counter before walking to the living room adjacent to the kitchen. “I need you to take the deposit to the bank first thing in the morning.” “Yes, sir.” An idea that had been forming in my mind was starting to make more and more sense. An idea that had started to take shape first at my mother’s funeral and then when I discovered the box upstairs. Now, staring at the envelope on the counter it had slithered its way into the center of my brain and taken hold. It was no longer just an idea. It was a plan. Father slammed his glass down on the table and my spine jumped. I tried to go about making dinner and ignoring the anger I felt billowing around him like a dust bowl as he pushed off the chair and stomped his way back into the kitchen, but it was impossible to ignore him once he’d gotten that look in his eyes. There was no getting out of what was to come. It didn’t matter what I’d said. It didn’t matter what I did or didn’t do. It was always the same. “I didn’t forget your outburst from earlier. You are to be quiet in public unless spoken to. Just because your mother isn’t here anymore doesn’t change the rules. Not my rules and not God’s rules.” Father stood behind me and I heard the sound I hated most in the world. His belt buckle clanking as he slipped it from the loops. He cracked the leather together in the air, a warning of what was to come. I braced myself with my forearms against the counter like I had a thousand times before. “The Lord doesn’t tolerate that kind of insubordination, and neither do I,” he ground out, bringing the belt down onto my lower back, the slap felt like a sting at first before turning into a slow burn, growing hotter and hotter as he took out the anger he felt toward the world on me. Blow after blow. Thankfully, I wasn’t there.

After that first strike, I felt no pain. My mind wandered to the letter from my mom. The keys. The deed to land I never knew she owned and left for me. I found myself smiling through the pain. Father struck me for the last time, pushed on my shoulders and sent me falling to the floor. I landed on my hands and knees on the kitchen tile facing the cabinets. “Get dinner on the table in twenty minutes,” he demanded like a king commanding one of his servants. He threw his belt to the floor. “Pick that up.” He stomped back to the living room, taking with him whatever sick satisfaction he got from disciplining me. No matter how many times I heard how the Lord required the frequent discipline of women throughout my life I’d never believed it. I never believed any of it. I placed my hands on the countertop and used the leverage to pull myself to my feet. I picked up the thick bank envelope and suddenly became very overwhelmed with a feeling I wasn’t familiar with that must have come with my newly formed defiance. Power. My shoulders shook and I turned my back to the living room, covering my mouth to prevent any sound from escaping, but again, it was too late. “Quit your sobbing. She’s gone. There is nothing we can do about it now but pray,” My father called out from the living room. He didn’t know that I wasn’t actually sobbing. Especially, since I was too busy laughing.

Chapter Three SAWYER

I

t was my birthday.

While most young women turning twenty-one (outside of the church of course) would’ve been out celebrating the milestone with friends and family, my plans didn’t involve presents or parties. Mine involved something much, much different. Escape. Rusty and Blue had been exactly where Mother had said they would be in the storage unit. It took a lot of sneaking around to get to them, and was mostly done while father was attending the men’s service and thought I was in the women’s center helping prepare the after-service meal. Rusty and Blue were both…old. However, when I turned the key for the first time and Rusty roared to life I squealed with joy. After a week of teaching myself how to drive a manual in the parking lot, I still wasn’t great, but I could manage. I didn’t have time for great. The front door slammed shut, my spine jolted with unwelcome awareness. He was home early. “Get down here, Sawyer!” Father’s deep voice called up the stairs. “The deposit from last week was never made.” I heard him opening and slamming drawers in the kitchen, rustling through the contents. Instinctually, I froze as if my lack of movement might make him think I wasn’t really there. My heart was beating so hard and so loud that I was afraid he was going to hear it through the closed door of my room. I held my breath for a few beats. Blood rushed to my ears, burning them as if the walls of my room were on fire. If I’m going to do this, I have to do it now. I pushed the building panic down deep inside, and resumed hastily shoving whatever clothing was within reach into a backpack. “I know you’re up there! Answer me, girl!” Father yelled out. This time there was a discernable slur in his words. His heavy footsteps hit the stairs. The smell of liquor wafted

under my door just as he thundered onto the landing. “Once you remember where you placed the church’s money you’re going to face the harshest discipline of your life.” He thinks I misplaced it. I snapped thick rubber bands around the ancient pink shoebox in both directions and shoved it into my backpack. The door handle jiggled, and my fingers fumbled as I tried to zip my bag without crushing the box. When it finally gave way and I was able to zip it all the way shut, I slung the backpack over my shoulders. What sounded like a balled fist connected with the door. Twice. The third bang came with the sound of wood splintering. “Sawyer, you open this fucking door right fucking now!” Jogging over to my window I slid the slow moving thick pane of glass open with a grunt. I was sitting on the ledge with my legs dangling over the side when the door flew off the hinges and fell with a thud into the room. “Where do you think you’re going?” Father barked. There was a slight sway to his step and I knew he was more than his usual weekday-drunk when he stumbled sideways into my dresser, sending picture frames crashing to the floor. I lowered my feet onto the roof below. It was angled so in order not to fall off the narrow space I turned sideways and shuffled toward the back of the house. When I reached the edge, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the ladder I’d stowed under the corner of the overhang was still there. I lifted it up and lowered it down to the grass, the muscles in my arms trembling under the heaviness of the metal ladder. There was a commotion behind me followed by the sound of Father’s boots shuffling over the rough asphalt of the shingles. There was no time to check the sturdiness of the ladder. It shook each time I placed my foot on another rung. Father stumbled toward me, reaching the edge of the roof while I was still only in the middle of the ladder. He looked down and with his dark eyes glinting in the moonlight he kicked over the top of the ladder, sending me sailing back into the grass and the heavy metal to land on top of me. When I connected with the ground, the air was forcefully pushed from my lungs. Thankfully, my backpack had protected me from suffering any major injuries. Other than the wind being knocked out of me, I was bruised and battered, but in one piece. “You’re leaving everything you’ve ever known. You won’t survive out there and I won’t come looking for you. You’ll be dead to me, Sawyer. Dead!” Father swayed slightly and then he lost his footing completely. His hands waving in the air as he attempted to regain his balance, but it was no use. He began to fall. I was shaking with adrenaline as I pushed myself to my feet. I stood just in time for him to land right where I had.

I could barely register the sound of snapping bone over my heart hammering in my ears. Father groaned in pain and grabbed at his leg which was jutting out from his body at an unnatural angle. Help, obey, and serve your father. Not anymore. I turned around and without the worry of him chasing me I strolled casually toward the back fence. “Fuck, you!” he roared after me. “Don’t you dare come back here. You will rot in the depths of hell for this!” “Don’t worry, I won’t ever be coming back,” I called in a calm tone that surprised even myself. I risked a glance back and watched as he tried to get up, only to fall again when his leg didn’t cooperate. Father might’ve actually meant what he said, although it wasn’t true. He might have thought he had no intention of coming for me, but again, I knew better. I patted my pocket, the one that held the deed. Too bad he was never going to find me. I lifted my long skirt and started to climb over the tall fence. At the top, I paused. When Father spotted me looking back at him writhing around on the grass, he went silent. For a moment, we were locked in a war of unspoken words. There had been a time for words. There had been a time when I’d have felt sympathy for him. A time when I would’ve rushed to his side without question. Those times were long gone. “Help me,” Father begged. I tore my eyes from his and dropped down to the other side of the fence. “Saaaawyer!” his screams echoed through the alley over and over again. The anger he had momentarily shoved aside to beg for my help was back in full force. It always was. The door to Rusty squealed when I opened it and leapt inside, tossing my bag to the passenger seat. Getting him and Blue into the alley was nothing short of a miracle. Now there I was, starting the engine. The loud noise thankfully drowning out my father’s cries. I wasn’t stupid. I knew I would still hear him. No engine would ever be loud enough to mask him completely. No amount of distance between us would ever truly silence him. But I was going to try anyway. I blew out a long-held breath. Twenty-one years long-held, and shifted the truck into drive. I took off into the night. Before I turned down the road that led to the highway I glanced in the rearview mirror and whispered the last words I’d ever speak to the man who had become a monster.

“Goodbye, Father.”

Chapter Four FINN

can’t believe it’s been two years,” I said, feeling the effects of the whiskey as it heated “I my skin and dulled my senses. Perfect. “Two years without you,” I continued. “Two years of thinking about you every single day.” I chuckled. “Two years of sitting up here talking to myself and pretending like you’re still here.” “Oh, sorry, Jackie,” I noticed the slur in my own words. I was well past the point of giving a shit that I’d drank too much. Two years past the point, to be exact. “I haven’t offered you any,” I continued. “You remember this?” I pointed to the label. “This stuff here is the gross shit we used to drink after a game. You remember? It’s the cheapest crap Donna sells at the Go-Mart but she would sell it to us for three times the price because we were underage. What a scam.” I laughed, remembering how Jackie was an expert at getting people to do her bidding for her. It may have come at a price but she always got the job done one way or another. I tipped the bottle over and poured a generous amount of the cheap booze down the slide watching it twirl around and around the graffiti covered plastic until I heard it leak onto the concrete of the empty pool below. “Drink up.” I saluted the air with the bottle and swallowed down the last of the contents in several large gulps. My eyes watered and my throat burned. I coughed and whiskey dripped down my chin. I wiped it with the back of my hand. “I guess whiskey was never meant to be chugged,” I said with a chuckle. “It never stopped us though, did it?” I tossed the empty bottle into the air and watched it spin around and around and around until I was rotating the upper half of my body to spin with it. The sound of shattering glass echoed all around me when it crashed to the ground five stories below. “You know. I kind of fucking hate you,” I said, sniffling hard. The weather must have

shifted because the air was growing thicker and more humid than when I’d first arrived. “We were supposed to do…we were supposed to do a lot more than we got to fucking do is all.” I lit a joint. “Josh told me a while back that I haven’t properly grieved you.” I scratched my forehead with my thumb. “She’s wrong, you know. All I feel is grief. The only thing I’ve done wrong in this whole process is recover. Get over you. Can’t seem to wrap my head around that concept. Josh may have a dude’s name, but she’s all woman and wrath and things I’m not going to get within ten feet of.” I pounded my closed fist roughly against my chest, growling out my frustrations. “You know, it fucking hurts,” my voice grew scratchy. I cleared my throat. “It still hurts just as bad as it did two years ago. If you were here right now I’d…” I could feel the pang in my chest at the sound of my words. “Doesn’t matter,” I muttered. “Because you’re not here.” My heart sputtered out a few irregular beats and I coughed. After it calmed down to a regular pace I took a long hit from the joint and blew the smoke out into the empty space next to me. It was Jackie’s spot. It’s where she should’ve still been sitting. If it weren’t for me, she might still be. I held up my joint. “It’s not the shit I used to get from Miller, but it does the job.” I sighed. “You know, I haven’t seen him in a while. Or Josh. After you died, I couldn’t face them. They gave me the space I wanted and now it’s become this big crater between the three of us. I can see them on the other side, but in order to get to them I’d have to jump in and see what’s sitting there at the bottom of it all.” I shook my head. “I’m not ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. They just remind me of how things will never be the same again. It was too fucking much to lose you. I just can’t have even more reminders that you’re not here,” I explained. My eyes watered. I must have been blowing the smoke too close to my face. “Every building in this damned town. Every back road. Every drip of moss and every single song reminds me that you’re not here.” “It should have been me.” I pushed up to my feet and hung onto the railing for support. “It ain’t fucking fair.” The railing gave way and suddenly I was gazing straight down five stories at the ground below, falling forward. At the bottom, I saw Jackie smiling up at me. Perfect blonde hair and matching smile. She was waving up at me. Waiting for me. Jackie disappeared when I was yanked back onto the platform with such force I landed on top of the person who’d done the yanking. “Jackie?” I asked in my confused, drunken, high, and somewhat delirious state. I was pushed over and then lifted off the ground. My arm was hoisted across a set of broad shoulders that assisted me down the rickety metal steps while a deep voice muttered

every swear word in existence. “Jackie, is that you?” I asked, unable to focus on the person’s face while the background of trees and swamp were spinning all around us. “Have you been working out?” “Jackie’s dead, kid. She’s been that way for a long while now,” the deep voice rasped. “Yeah, I know that. But I still talk to her…” …hiccup… “sometimes.” “It’s good to know you’re talking to someone these days. Why don’t you try and focus on the people still breathing? Might do you some good.” I couldn’t place his familiar voice. Then again, I couldn’t place anything, including one foot in front of the other. I stumbled but was held upright and urged to keep moving forward. “Okay, Jackie. Whatever you say,” I slurred as I was loaded into a vehicle. I didn’t know if it was a car or a truck. It could have been a school bus for all my inebriated brain knew. All I wanted to do was sleep. My eyes grew heavier and heavier under the weight of my drunkenness. “I love you, Jackie. Always have. Always wiiiiiiiillllllll.” “Stay out of the damned water park or you’re gonna end up dead too,” the voice said, starting the engine. “Then there will be a lot more people who feel the way you do now. Like they were left behind.” “Nooooo, they can’t feel that way,” I argued. “Oh yeah, rock star? Why exactly is that?” “Because, I’m already dead,” I explained, although the point of making any sense had long passed as I dropped my head against the window and closed my eyes. “You can try and pretend you’re dead all you want, kid, but you ain’t foolin’ anyone.” I felt the sting of a slap against my cheek and lazily swatted the air in retaliation. “It’s best you start acting that way.”

I WOKE up in the driver’s seat of my Bronco with my seatbelt fastened feeling as if I’d spent the last several hours standing directly next to the speakers at a death metal concert…during the drum solo. It was still dark out and I was parked in front of the house I hadn’t lived in for years. “How the fuck did I get here?” I grumbled, starting the engine. It was the very last place I wanted to be. I checked the clock. It was ten p.m. I vaguely remembered going to the water park earlier in the day. Jackie. The memory of why I went there hit me like a hammer to the heart. The anniversary of her death.

I turned up the radio to drown out the memories that always came when I thought of her. I lit a joint and put the Bronco in drive. I’d just turned onto the highway, still in a Jackie and alcohol induced daze when I almost didn’t see the RV in the middle of the road. Or the girl. She was staring at me as I grew closer and closer with a panicked expression on her face. She was probably wondering why I wasn’t stopping. She had a good point. I slammed on the brakes, or at least I thought I did. My brain was sluggish in sending out the message to my foot. When it finally cooperated, the stop was sudden. The brakes squealed as metal scraped against metal. I yanked on the wheel and my truck turned sideways and started to spin. I glanced up through the open roof to the stars rotating above me. I wondered if tonight was the night I’d finally be able to stop missing Jackie. Because there was a real possibility I’d be seeing her again soon.

Chapter Five SAWYER

T

he highway grew smaller and smaller until I was sure it was going to just disappear. Smooth tar pavement was now pot hole riddled and mixed with sections of only dirt or rock. My tailbone ached from all the ups and downs. I passed an exit ramp that looked as if it had been started but never finished. A few feet off the highway the broken pavement turned to dirt with tall weeds growing up through it. Bright yellow barricades, most of them heavily dented, blocked the way off the main road. Was that the exit? There was no sign, but I knew I had to be getting close. I also knew that I was kind of lost. The town of Outskirts was barely a dot on the old faded map from the glove compartment. It was located at the tip top of the Everglades and smack in the middle of the two Florida coastlines. I’d been driving for two days, but as my eyes grew heavy, my spirit grew with determination. I pressed on the gas pedal to increase my speed to something above grandma level, but nothing happened. The only other car on the highway zipped past me and it wasn’t because they were speeding, it was because I was slowing down. Way down. The sound of something exploding boomed from under the hood causing me to shriek in surprise. White smoke filled the night air like a mini mushroom cloud. “No! No! No!” I screamed to no-one as Rusty, who was aptly named, sputtered and coughed. The dashboard lights switched off all at once and Rusty the truck sadly and dramatically rolled to a stop in the middle of the deserted highway. “Not now. Please. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll keep you in the shade. I’ll wash you every day. I’ll sing to you at night. Please just please don’t stop now.” I promised all of that plus anything else I could think of to keep him alive, but with one last final death rattle, both my heart and my gut sank along with any hope I had of spontaneous revival. Rusty was no more.

I ground my teeth and pounded my fist on the steering wheel, hissing when the side of my hand vibrated with pain up to my elbow. “Ouch!” I screamed as if he’d actually hit me back. Hopping out into the road, I kicked the driver’s side door several times which it responded by partially falling from its hinges. Chips of faded paint and rust fell onto the cracked asphalt. With one last grunt of frustration, I turned around to face the dark empty highway. I dropped to the ground and leaned back against the worn front tire, dropping my head between my knees. “What the hell do I do now?” I muttered as a dark cloud rolled over the stars, turning the night from dim to black. “What about you Blue? Are you going to give up on me too?” I asked the camper that was hitched to Rusty. Blue’s metal siding was white on the top and bottom. A faded dove blue stripe ran down the center separating the white. It was thick and horizontal, the same width as the height of the single window. When I first saw it, I thought my mom had called her Blue because of the stripe. I was wrong. Inside, the walls, the little cabinets above the mattress, the tiny stove, and even the countertops and composting toilet were all baby blue. Even the torn linoleum covering the floors was white and blue checkered. Everything had started out so great. When I’d rescued Rusty and Blue from storage unit jail I found that it was fully equipped. Blankets, canned food, gallons of water in the storage area in the back that could only be opened from the outside. A full water tank for the mini-bathroom/shower area. There was a lot of planning and effort to get this ready for me, but for the life of me I still couldn’t figure out how Mom had managed to do it all on her own. Suddenly the pavement vibrated, warning of an oncoming vehicle. I stood and peered down the black highway in both directions. Nothing. However, the echo of an engine cut through the silence, the rumbling growing louder and louder, but still I couldn’t see anything. By the time the truck became visible it was too late.

Chapter Six SAWYER

T

he sound of screeching brakes filled the night air. The smell of burning rubber invaded my nostrils. Metal ground against metal as the older model SUV fishtailed across both lanes of the highway, crossing the median before finally turning sideways, and skating to a halt just a few feet from where I stood. “What the fuck?” A man’s voice grumbled, sounding every bit as confused as I felt. Headlights suddenly clicked on and so did another row of much brighter lights attached to a bar above his windshield, blinding me in bright white light. “So NOW you turn on your lights!” I yelled, covering my eyes. I stepped out of the light and when I could see again I saw a man shifting around in his seat. The truck was an older model Ford without doors or a roof and it was tall with big thick tires more than half the size of my body. It was then I smelled something familiar. Whiskey. I pushed down the fear making its way up my throat from my gut and squared my shoulders just in time for a massive shadow of a man to approach, his footsteps a series of slow heavy thuds against the broken road. “Why were you in the middle of the road?” A deep gravelly voice asked accusingly. When the man stepped into the light I half expected the devil himself to be the one emerging from the shadows, but that’s not who I was faced with. The man was at least a foot taller than my five feet three inches. He wore fitted black jeans low on the waist and a white undershirt stretched across his broad chest. It didn’t have sleeves either, revealing muscular biceps. The thin material also showcased rows of muscles on his torso that grew smaller as they trailed into the shape of a V disappearing into his jeans. My cheeks heated when I realized I’d been staring and I tore my gaze away from his body. He wore a black baseball cap that covered his eyes. A few days of growth covered his squared jaw. We stood there for a few moments. Not speaking. I cleared my throat. He looked from my camper to me like he was just realizing I was there. He looked me up and down

slowly, and then folded his arms over his chest, flexing his biceps. “You all right?” he asked, impatiently. “Yes, I’m fine, but…” “Good,” he said, abruptly turning back around and getting back into his vehicle “Stay out of the road.” I stomped my foot on the ground. “Well, maybe you would have seen me if you weren’t driving with your headlights off!” I called back. The arrogance! He was the one who’d almost hit me! “You’re just going to leave me here?” I yelled after him as he shifted the truck in gear. He eased past me before crossing the median in an obvious illegal U-turn. His tires spun. Dirt and mud rose high up into the wheel wells before the truck kicked violently out onto the road. “You could have killed me!” I yelled out. “We all gotta go sometime,” he said, raising his voice over his engine. He turned up the volume on his radio. A man singing about a highway to hell screamed from the speakers. As he drove off, the music, the echoes of his big tires, and the beady red eyes of his taillights faded until they were long gone and once again it was just me and the highway. Without owning a phone, my only option was to wait for another passing car. I looked down the dark empty road in both directions. It was going to be a while.

AFTER WHAT SEEMED LIKE HOURS, a pair of headlights appeared in the distance. An almost tangible beam of bright light shining down the dark highway. Suddenly both the trees and pavement lit up in swirling blue and red. It was a massive truck. A massive police truck. Would Father have called the police? I was so green at doing something illegal that I didn’t even know whether I should’ve been nervous or not because I had no idea how the process of getting caught actually worked. “It seems you’ve gotten yourself into a pickle,” a feminine voice rang out. A tall policewoman with dark skin and soft natural curls framing her face came toward me holding a flashlight. She flipped it between me and the camper. Then me and the truck. Then just me. “I broke down then almost got run off the road by a guy in a black Ford,” I said, trying to keep my tone as casual as possible even though my pulse was racing.

“Was it a Bronco?” she asked, lowering her light. “It could have been.” By my guess, the officer wasn’t much older than I was although she was several inches taller than me. “Where did you come from?” she asked, eyeing my clothes and giving me a look that told me if I lied she’d be able to smell it in the air. I smoothed my hands down my long skirt. “Nowhere I want to go back to,” I said honestly. She gave me a curt nod. “Where on earth are you trying to go in this piece of shit?” she asked, tapping on Rusty’s bumper. I felt the need to defend him, after all, it wasn’t his fault he was locked away in storage for…however long he was there. “My mom has land…” I started, “I mean, I’ve got land around here.” She lifted her flashlight to the window of the camper and looked inside. “Whereabouts?” “That’s the thing, I’ve actually never been there and I think I’m a bit lost, I haven’t seen a single sign or marked exit but, I’m thinking I can’t be too far off.” “You got an address?” she asked, holstering her flashlight. I took out the folded piece of paper from my back pocket and handed it to her. She grabbed it with perfectly manicured fingernails sharpened into long white points. A big smile pulled at her face revealing a full mouth of perfectly white and straight teeth. “Come on, let’s get this one piece of shit unhitched from the other piece of shit and we’ll haul it to your land. I’ll come back and tow your truck back when my shift’s over.” “You don’t have to do all that. I can just call for a tow truck, if I can just use your phone,” I offered. She ignored me and started unhitching Blue from Rusty. “The nearest tow service is Albrahma County, at least an hour drive north. When they get a call for a tow you know what they do?” She didn’t wait for me to respond. “They call me. So why don’t we just save some time and let me do what I’m gonna wind up doing eventually anyway?” “Okay,” I agreed as if there was another option. She told me to get back in the truck and flip it into neutral. I did what she said and together we pushed it off the side of the road just enough so the tires were sitting on the grass without sending it careening into the steep ditch. She then draped a yellow neon tape around and over Rusty several times. “Crime scene?” I asked, reading the words. “You want anyone fucking with your truck?” she asked, resting her hands on her gun

belt. I shook my head. “Well, then. For the time being. It’s a crime scene.” She winked. “You got a name or do I just call you lost girl?” “Sawyer,” I offered. “I’m Deputy Hugo, but the only people who call me that are…well, no one calls me that. You can just call me Josh.” “Josh?” I asked, curiously, following her to her truck. It took a moment to hike up my skirt and lift myself inside. “It’s short for Joshwanda,” she deadpanned, shutting her own door. “It’s tribal. From the motherland.” “That’s…unique.” Josh broke out in a smile and slapped herself on the knee. “I’m just kidding, but you should have seen your face. Motherland? Girl, I’m from Georgia, but Outskirts has been my home since before I hit puberty. My real name is Brittany, but back in high school, it was suggested by my friends that Brittany was too feminine for me so they started calling me Josh. It stuck. Now that’s what everyone calls me. Including my own parents.” Josh looked behind her seat and backed up the truck to my camper with expert precision. She waved me off when I tried to get out and help her hook it to the hitch and was back in less than two minutes. Josh pulled out onto the highway going the opposite direction of where I was heading. I glanced in the side mirror and hoped that Rusty would be okay out there all by himself for the night. “No worries. I’ll come back for him in a bit. Gary has a shop in town. He’ll come out and tell you what’s wrong with it.” She looked in her rearview. “Although that thing might need a bit of Jesus to get it running again.” “Or a whole lot of money,” I replied. “Yeah, that too,” she agreed. “So, what brings you to our neck of the woods? We don’t get too many newcomers in these parts.” “Honestly?” I laughed at the absurdity of my situation. “I’m not a hundred percent sure. I think I’m just going to figure things out as I go.” “What sort of things need figuring out?” I looked out the window up to the sky and the now bright full moon. “All of the things.” The ride became a comfortable silence as we turned off the highway onto a dirt road behind the ramp I’d seen earlier that had been barricaded off. “Thank you,” I said, breaking the silence. “If you hadn’t come along I don’t know how long I would have been waiting there.”

“You don’t have to thank me. You just happened to be in my favorite nap spot. This is the most excitement I’ve seen in weeks. Shit, I’m the one who should be thanking you.” We passed through a space between brush just a couple of car lengths wide. Behind it was an oval shaped clearing with trees on all sides. A rectangular farmhouse in need of as much repair as Rusty, appeared on the far side. The front porch appeared rickety and so did the roof that seemed to dip in the middle. Shrubs and banyan trees with dripping Spanish moss surrounded the house on both sides, curving over the roof like a hand about to smack it into the ground. Parked sideways in the dirt in front of the porch steps was a dark Ford. A dark Bronco. “That’s the truck!” I exclaimed. “Yeah.” Josh sighed, not seeming the least bit surprised. She twisted her lips and flashed me a sad smile. “That’s kind of what I figured.” “Do you know him?” I asked. She nodded. “Finn Hollis. And yes, I know him. Well, I USED to know him.” “Not anymore though?” She shook her head. “Not for a looonng time.” A light shone from behind thin curtains with no detection of movement from within. It wasn’t until after I got out of the truck that I felt like I was being watched. That feeling continued for the entire twenty minutes it took to find a spot on the land that wasn’t covered in either water, mud, or thick tangled trees and brush. We’d finally settled on a space between two big trees where the ground was still damp, but not under water like the rest of it seemed to be. A small brown lizard scampered up the door of my trailer and Josh swatted it off. “I’ll take another look at the land in daylight,” she said, getting in her truck and shutting the door. She rolled down the window and looked down to me. “If we can spot a dryer section then I’ll move it again for you.” “Thanks again,” I said. Josh glanced to the shack across the way. “If Finn gives you any trouble, you let me know.” As if angered by her own words she leaned out of her window, directing her shout toward the shack, “Because I’ll come back and shoot his hermit ass!” She sat back down. “Shit,” she cursed. “What’s wrong?” I asked, craning my neck from the ground below. “As much as that man needs a good yelling at on occasion, I just realized that today is not the day to be doing the yelling.” “Why? Josh smiled. “Don’t you worry about it. Do yourself a favor though and make sure you

keep the windows and doors shut tight at night. The mosquitos out here are big enough to carry you off.” With that, she took off, leaving me alone with my camper, the sound of the aforementioned buzzing mosquitos, the occasional deep croak of a frog, and a very mysterious, very angry new neighbor. I opened the door to my camper and had one foot inside when I glanced up at the shack across the way. The curtains were swaying gently as there was a soft breeze blowing through. A large shadow suddenly crowded the window, blocking out the light. It turned, and stopped in front of the window, watching me through the thin curtains. A full body shiver erupted from the base of my spine. The same kind of shiver I’d always experienced right as my father’s car pulled in the driveway. The feeling that told me things were about to go very, very wrong. And as always, it was right.

Chapter Seven SAWYER

T

he mattress was hard. Some of the inner springs had begun to uncoil and were poking me in the back. The smell inside the camper was of mildew and mold. Musty, I would call it. I loved it. Every tiny little inch of it. I was in a strange town, in what appeared to be the middle of the swamp, thousands of miles away from the life I’d always known. I was alone. Terrified. And fantastically free. Clutching my mother’s letter to my chest, I drifted off to sleep knowing that whatever was in store for me was better than what I’d left behind. My mother had told me to be strong. Be brave. I made a promise to myself that no matter what happened, I’d continue to do just that. There was a loud bang in my dream. Instantly my thoughts drifted to my father. The ladder. Him falling to the ground. The snap of bone. As I roused from slumber to consciousness, I became very aware that the noise hadn’t come from a dream. It was real. VERY real. And coming from inside my camper. My tiny living space swayed from side to side with each heavy footstep taken toward me. I felt it then. The dread crawling up my spine like a slow-moving spider. He’d found me. I opened my eyes and standing over me was the large dark shadow of a man. “No! Don’t!” I shouted, scrambling up the mattress. With nothing around to use as a weapon, I raised my forearms defensively over my face. “You might as well get it over with now. Beat me until your knuckles bleed. Kill me if you have to. But I’m not going back. Not now. Not ever!” “Who do you think I am?” a deep voice questioned. A voice that didn’t belong to my father.

Hesitantly I peered through my arms and as the last bit of sleepy haze cleared in my mind, it was Finn I saw standing at the foot of the bed. His arms were raised above his head, resting against the metal header that ran across the ceiling. He was leaning forward, eyeing me suspiciously. “And what did he do to you?” he asked, a vein throbbing in his temple. His jaw tight. “Nobody, it was nothing. Just a bad dream.” I answered, not wanting to appear weak to the man who’d almost run me off the side of the road. And although I was grateful he wasn’t my father after all, he was still a stranger, leaning over my bed, in the middle of the night. “Bullshit,” Finn growled. His nostrils flared. “What? What are you doing here?” I asked, the fear from earlier spiking the adrenaline through my body once again. “What do you want from me?” I held the worn blanket over my chest to cover up my nightdress. “What is it you think I want from you?” Finn asked. I could hold the blanket over me all I wanted. The way Finn was looking at me so intensely, so deeply, it was as if he could see through both the blanket and my clothes. “I don’t know what you want from me. But I know you need to leave. Right now,” I said, using my strongest voice. “I didn’t come here to fuck you if that’s what you’re thinking,” Finn said, emphasizing the word FUCK. I gasped. “What?” He chuckled and the sound vibrated throughout the small space. I felt it all the way into my chest. “You’ve never heard anyone say the word fuck before?” “No, I’ve heard it before,” I responded. I’d just never FELT the word before. The fluorescent light overhead flipped on with a sputtering buzz and suddenly Finn was in full view, no longer a looming shadow. He wasn’t wearing his baseball cap like he was earlier, revealing messy but straight dirty blond hair that kissed his jaw line. His nose was slightly crooked. His lips were the fullest I’d ever seen on a man. Dark blue circles created half-moons under each of his eyes which were not dark, or demon-red like I half expected them to be, but bright like I’d imagined the ocean would be in the Caribbean. Above his left eye was a scar that had healed and was slightly lighter in color than his tanned skin. It was jagged and ran from the top of his eyebrow into his hairline. It figures that out of all the people I’d met throughout my entire life—men or women —this gruff angry man, was by far the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. If losing my mother wasn’t enough proof that life wasn’t fair, Finn looking the way he did was all the proof I needed. My heart raced. I wasn’t used to being in such close proximity to a man with so much skin exposed.

Finn’s massive body made my already tiny living space look even tinier, the top of his head brushed the ceiling. His shoulders were so wide there was only room for him in the small walkway. “Who are you?” Finn asked, narrowing his eyes. “Sawyer,” I answered with as much strength as I could muster. “I’m Sawyer.” Finn chuckled again and some of the lines on his forehead disappeared. “Finn,” he offered. “I know your name. Josh told me when she dropped me off.” Finn stood there like he was waiting for me to say something. “Finn and Sawyer,” he prompted, raising his eyebrows. “Yes. Finn and Sawyer,” I confirmed. Maybe he just had a thing for names. “Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn?” he questioned. “Mark Twain?” “Are those friends of yours?” “You seriously don’t…” Finn paused and shook his head. His expression hardened. “Never mind. Just tell me, Sawyer, why are you really here?” His lip curled up at the end. “I’m here because I have every right to be here. This is MY land,” I pointed to the deed on the small cutting board that served as a counter. Finn picked up the deed and promptly set it back down. “Your land is about forty feet back into the marshlands.” He pointed behind my head. “Right now, you’re on my land and you need to move.” “How am I supposed to do—” He cut me off. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve got a week to move it or I’m setting this thing on fire.” “Why?” Is all I could manage to ask. “Because, for your sake, I’m warning you. You don’t want to be my neighbor.” I stood from the mattress, expecting Finn to take a step back to allow me room, but he didn’t budge. I felt the heat of his breath as he stared hatred into my eyes like fire was about to spout from his nostrils. He smelled like cedar and whiskey. “Well, you are my neighbor whether you like it or not because I’ll move my camper, but I’m not leaving MY land,” I challenged, folding my arms over my chest. Finn’s gaze dipped down to where I knew he could see my nipples through the thin fabric of my long white cotton night dress. My skin heated. “You’re awfully feisty for someone who dresses like a nun,” Finn said, looking at my mouth while he spoke. I instinctively reached up to press my fingers to my lips. For a few moments, we just stood there, staring one another down. Finn broke eye contact first and finally took a step back. “Don’t say I didn’t warn

you,” he said, right before he turned and left. The camper rocked as he stepped off the step and slammed the door behind him. I raced over and clicked the flimsy lock as if the thin strip of plastic could prevent Finn from storming his way back in with little to no effort. Bending at the waist with my hands on my knees I tried to calm my erratic heart and catch my breath. I’d just gotten to Outskirts. I hadn’t even started figuring out why my mother wanted me to come here. There was no way I was going to let the likes of someone like Finn run me off. Mother told me to steer clear of anyone who tried to make others feel as weak as they do. Finn Hollis was one of those people. I stood up straight and couldn’t help but to stand on my tiptoes and chance a glance out through the small window. Finn was on his porch. He turned and scowled in my direction. The land. The town. The people. Everything was new to me. But angry men weren’t, and I refused to be intimidated. Not by my own fears. Not by the church. Not by my father. Not by anyone. Not ANYMORE.

Chapter Eight FINN

O

f all the days, it had to be today.

I slammed the door of the cabin with all my might and went straight for the whiskey, tipping the bottle up and pouring it directly into my mouth until I’d swallowed enough to feel the tension in my shoulders lessen slightly. I’d marched over to that camper still drunk thinking I could scare her away. But after one good look at Sawyer not only was I stone cold sober, I wasn’t sure which of us walked away more scared. When she yelled out for whoever she thought I’d been to not hurt her and that she’d rather be killed than go back, every threat on my tongue died. My heart panged. Which was impossible. I hadn’t had a heart in years. The thought was almost as ridiculous as her long white nightdress. It was like something my grandmother would have worn. Yet…I wanted to see what she was hiding underneath it. I wanted to see more of her. All of her. That was the thought that sent my irritation into overdrive. Today of all days… Wavy and wild reddish-brown hair framed her heart shaped face. Her otherwise porcelain skin had a shit ton of freckles across it. And not just the delicate little ones lightly sprinkled over the bridge of a nose or the kind a girl has to point out for you to notice. No, hers were thick and concentrated mostly on the right side of her face, creating a half moon effect around her big brown eyes, which, under the fluorescent light in her camper, I noticed had gold flecks sprinkled in all the brown. It was as if her eyes had freckles of their own. Sawyer was unusual looking. Certainly not a classic beauty, but maybe it was because she was so unusual that I found her to be stunning. The MOST stunning thing I’d ever laid eyes on. The more I stared at her, the more something inside me stirred. Maybe it was just my curiosity wondering how far her freckles traveled into that night

dress. But I knew that wasn’t it. What was stirring was something else entirely. Something I hadn’t felt in years. Something I needed to drown from my body before things got out of hand. I took another long pull from the bottle “Who doesn’t know Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn?” I asked out loud. I chugged again until my throat burned and my thoughts of wild hair and freckles turned blurry. I staggered to the window and glanced across the yard just in time to see the light inside her camper click off. An overwhelming anger ripped through my body. A roar tore from my throat and I tossed the bottle across the room. It shattered on the far wall. Shards of glass and splatters of whiskey slid down to the floor and as I watched it I did the same until the side of my head connected with the hard wood floor. Before it all went black, an image flashed through my mind. Grandma-style night dress. Freckles for days. Wide-eyed innocence. The kind that wore long night dresses and demanded to be corrupted. I did the right thing by threatening her because Sawyer needed to go. And not just for MY sake. For hers.

Chapter Nine SAWYER

M

y mom used to say that ‘everything looks better in the morning light.’ I was positive, as I looked out onto the murky ground surrounding my camper, that in this particular case, she was wrong. Oh, so very, very wrong. In the light of day, I wasn’t just on wet ground or a little mud or even NEXT to the swamp. I was in the SWAMP. The entire lot, which I couldn’t tell where it ended or began, was covered in brush and overgrowth. I was surprised at how well Josh had navigated the camper into the only tiny triangle of earth without at least an inch of water that covered most of the ground from the camper to the small dirt path leading up to the house across the way. Although, it was really more of a shack than an actual house. I couldn’t even detect a paint color unless faded, rotted wood siding could be considered a color. The roof hung low over the drooping front porch like a disapproving eyebrow, dripping with a mixture of shaker style shingles, all different tones from light to dark like they’d been replaced over time, as needed. Small concrete block pilings under the house looked as if they were keeping the house a few inches above the murk and mud swimming beneath. It looked like a proper murder shack. Since the camper didn’t have any water to hook up to, I cleaned off the best I could with a wash cloth and a gallon of water I’d purchased at a gas station so I could conserve the water in the small tank. I got dressed quickly and the second I closed the door of the trailer, I felt his presence before I even saw him. I turned around slowly and sure enough, there he was. Finn. Shirtless. Finn’s muscles rippled as he carried what looked like vehicle parts from the back of the house down to the edge of the water behind it. His tanned skin glistened with sweat, beading up and trickling down the taut muscles of his expansive back.

My jaw literally dropped. I’d always been taught that the body was a weakness. A human’s vulnerability, but I saw none of that with Finn. Back at home, I’d have been told to look away and pray for that person whose morals were obviously corrupt enough to wear such little clothing. But I wasn’t at home. Using that logic alone, I allowed myself to watch Finn for the next few moments as he pushed a metal boat off of a trench-style ramp that had been dug into the shore. Once he was far enough into the swampy waters he pulled a cord and a small motor zinged to life. Finn paused like he could sense me staring. He slowly turned around. His blue eyes shimmered under the light of the morning and in no way matched the frown set on his face. I tore my eyes from his and trudged through the wet mud hoping to stumble upon the main area of town. I’d just leapt over a particularly mean looking puddle when Josh rolled up beside me in her monstrous police truck, towing Rusty behind her. “Where you heading, Sawyer?” she asked leaning out of her window. “Town. I think.” “Any particular place in mind?” “I was going to see about getting a job and some supplies.” I lifted up my skirt to my ankle to show her my muddied white tennis shoes. “And maybe invest in some better footwear.” “People we don’t got a lot of,” Josh said. “Mud on the other hand?” Josh pushed open the passenger door from the inside. “Mud we got plenty of. Come on up. I’ll give you a lift.” I climbed up in the cab and after Josh maneuvered Rusty next to Blue, setting her free, she hopped back in and together we started toward town. Josh turned to me and looked me over. “Aren’t you hot in those clothes?” she asked, nodding to my long-sleeved button-down shirt and baggy khaki skirt that brushed my ankles and conservative nurse-style white sneakers. “I know it’s early, but it’s over ninety degrees already. You are gonna catch yourself a mean case of heat stroke if you stay outdoors too long wearing that. My sister Emily had a bad case of it when we were in high school. She had to be put in the hospital because she was puking blood like an overheated vampire.” Was I hot? “Yes, I’m hot. Sweltering is more like it.” “Can I ask you something?” Josh leaned her elbow against her window. “Sure.” “Is there any particular reason you’re covered head to toe in ninety-degree heat?” “I come from a…” I searched for the right word. “Conservative family. This is how I was expected to dress.”

“You could be THE most conservative person on the planet but a few days in Outskirts will have an eighty-year-old pant suit wearing Republican wearing a string bikini in no time.” I laughed. “I can see why.” I pulled at my high-necked shirt to allow some air through. “This conservative family of yours. They around?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the road. “No. Not anymore.” “Then you might want to visit the thrift store in town. They’ve got some decent stuff and it doesn’t cost a week’s wages. You should check it out. Bebe is the owner. She’s always there. You’ll like her.” “Thanks,” I said, thinking that new clothes sounded great, but getting a job, a way to earn money, was my first priority. On the way into town every business we passed, no matter how scattered, were mostly closed with boarded up windows. “Welcome to The Outskirts,” Josh said. “Home of the boarded-up building and abandoned…” we passed what looked like it used to be a car dealership with CLOSED spelled out on its small marquee by the street. “…everything.” “What happened to this place?” I asked as we passed a housing development with a crumbling fancy brick gate announcing it as Heritage Acres, where there was nothing but long grass behind it and a half-built guard house. White piping stuck up from the ground every fifty feet or so as far as the eye could see, surrounded by tall weeds. “What DIDN’T happen to this place?” Josh scoffed. “Throw in a couple of brain eaters and we’d be the complete zombie apocalypse. Nothing but swamp land and unfulfilled dreams.” Josh sighed and looked out the window as if she was seeing the town with my eyes. “This big shot developer came through and promised that Outskirts was going to be the next Disneyworld. A lot of the townsfolk drank the Kool-Aid he was pouring. They used every dollar they had and even dollars they didn’t have to make improvements to their businesses to prepare for the rush of people they were told were coming to town. Parking lots were built, stores, and even hotels started going up everywhere. Residents even sold off big chunks of their farms and land and refinanced their houses to afford the life they were promised was coming, along with all the tourists’ money they expected to fall down around them like rain.” Josh scoffed. “Aries, that was the name of the developer, started building housing developments where a single-family house was going to cost more than what you’d normally pay for an entire farm out here. But people bought into it and Aries did manage to build and finish the water park, but just as it was set to open he picked up and left. That was it. He left us with nothing but excuses about market conditions and a graveyard of half built projects and homes that weren’t worth half of the new amount of their mortgages. People lost their livelihoods. Some lost everything.” “So what did they do?” I asked. “A lot of people packed up and left to find work elsewhere or move in with relatives in other towns. But a lot of people stayed too. Small town determination is not something

you want to fuck with. People here do not take kindly to being forced from their homes, so they stuck it out best they could and managed best they could. Most people are still here now. Shaken up, a hell of a lot more jaded, but…still here.” She talked with a sense of pride in her voice. “What about you? How were you affected?” I asked, leaning closer to the air conditioning vent in the dashboard. “Me?” Josh asked, waving her hand in the air. “I was fine. Rent hadn’t had the chance to change much and I didn’t sell my soul to Aries like some folks did. My parents,” she blew out a breath, “they’re another story. They remortgaged their house to expand and turn it into a bed and breakfast. Their house wasn’t worth a third of what they owed by the time all was said and done.” “So they lost their house?” I asked. Even though I didn’t know Josh’s family I felt bad for them nonetheless. “They were about to until another investor bought their note from the bank and offered to rent the house back to them at a ridiculously cheap price. I don’t exactly know how or why they can afford to do it and still make money, but I guess it works for them and I’m not one to question something that doesn’t need questioning. I’m just grateful because my parents, and a whole lot of other people in this town in the same position, would’ve had to move on to greener pastures.” Josh turned the wheel. “This is Main Street.” Main Street was a wide road with small flat buildings on both sides without a traffic light to be seen. The street itself looked as if it had been paved at one time, but was now littered with crumbling pot holes and a thick layer of dirt and mud. The yellow line striping was barely visible underneath. “Wow,” I said, taking it all in. Suddenly I felt deflated. “Do you think anyone’s even hiring?” I pointed to a gas station where the pumps had been removed and the windows painted over in thick black brush strokes. Josh shrugged. “Not sure, but if anyone’s looking for help it would be Critter’s. It’s the bar in town. Only restaurant too. It’s next to the coin laundry. You’ll like Critter. Everyone does. He’s been here his whole life. Shit, he practically IS Outskirts. I can guarantee you that some of the grease in those fryers is older than I am.” She looked over to me. “How old are you anyway?” she asked. “As of a few days ago, I’m twenty-one,” I said. “Well, you look younger than that. It must be the no makeup thing,” Josh said. I placed my hand on my cheek. “Not in a bad way,” Josh clarified. “You don’t need anything covering that face. It’s just that most girls our age, I’m twenty-five, by the way, cake that shit on these days like they can’t let people see what they really look like or they’ll melt.” A dented sign on the road displayed an arrow pointing us in the direction of the Outskirts Sun-N-Fun water park. Someone had spray painted a circle with a line through it.

“Listen, about Finn,” Josh said, changing the subject. “I apologize about him leaving you the way he did. He wasn’t always like that.” “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” I said. Finn may have been right across the way but I’d decided he was a non-issue. I was going to pretend he wasn’t there and hopefully he’d do the same when it came to me. “I know, but I just wanted to let you know that he used to be… he used to be something else.” Josh looked out the window as if she was watching a memory replaying in her mind. Her tone softened. “Someone else.” “It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head. “I’ll be staying far, far away from his kind of something else. Well,” I amended, “about as far away as fifty feet or so can get me, anyway.” “Just know that it’s complicated. He’s complicated. AND he’s super private which doesn’t help any.” She flashed me a small smile. “I was in the eighth grade when my family moved here. My dad got a job as a construction supervisor at one of the subdivisions they were building. I was the only black kid in the entire school. Apparently, some people didn’t realize it was 2005 and still had a problem with a black girl attending school with white kids. Some big redneck bully wrote something nasty on my locker the first day. Some shit about telling me to go home to Africa. Poetic, right?” She lifted her fingers off the wheel and inspected her nails before continuing, “Anyway, back then, when we were kids, Finn was the biggest. Both in personality and size. He played baseball. Pitcher actually. He was the most popular. He could get any girl he wanted, and trust me, they all threw their bony asses at him constantly. But on the day we met, not only did he talk to me, but he grabbed me by the hand and walked me to class. And then when the bell rang, he grabbed my hand again and walked me to the next one, and then the next one after that. When that same bully shouted something nasty at Finn for holding my hand, Finn pulled me to the front of the school where everyone was waiting for their buses,” she looked over to me, “and you know what he did?” “Threw you in front of traffic?” I asked, raising my shoulders. “He kissed me. Full on the lips. Right there in front of everyone. Teachers, students, the bully, his friends, everyone.” There was no mistaking the pride in her voice. “Wow,” I said. And I meant it. Not because of the kindness of the act, but because I couldn’t imagine the Finn I’d met doing any of those things. Josh was right, he really was a different person now. “Kids could be cruel,” she said. “But I learned that day that they could also be brave. Because Finn? He was the bravest of them all.” “So, you guys were an item then?” I asked, immediately regretting the personal nature of the question. “Sorry, that’s none of my…” Josh rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Oh HELL no. We didn’t feel that way about each other, never have. But from that moment, we were inseparable. He dragged me along with him everywhere he went and even introduced me into his little group of juvenile delinquent friends, Miller and Jackie. The four of us? We raised some hell back in the

day.” “COPPER COPPER ONE NINER COME IN,” Josh’s radio squeaked as a man’s voice came through the static. Josh pursed her lips. “Speaking of Miller,” she muttered, pressing a button on her shoulder. “Miller, I will call you back.” She was about to put both hands back on the wheel when she appeared to change her mind, pressing the button again and holding it. “And stop playing with the damned radio!” “TEN FOUR. SEX MACHINE OUT.” “That stupid shit,” Josh said, but when she turned toward her window I could see in the reflection that she was trying not to laugh. “What you said about Finn sounds great,” I started. “But there is no way that the guy you talk about is the same guy who barged into my camper and threatened me in the middle of the night.” “He did what?” Josh asked through her teeth. Her nostrils flared and her knuckles paled as her grip on the steering wheel tightened. She took a deep breath and flashed me a tight forced smile. “You don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of Finn Hollis. You’re not going anywhere.” She winked. We pulled into a small gravel parking lot. “That’s exactly what I told him.”

CRITTER’S LOUNGE announced the name of the bar on a hand painted sign, complete with drip marks on every other letter. The building itself was a small rectangle with low ceilings. It was so close to the road that a regular compact car would barely be able to park in front of it. Josh’s truck stuck out several feet into the street which didn’t seem to matter since I hadn’t seen another car on the road the entire way there. Next to the bar was the COIN LAUNDRY and next to that was a book store although I didn’t have a chance to check to see if it was open because Josh was already out of the truck and waving me inside. “Come on, I’ll walk you in and introduce you,” Josh said. And although the sign on the door was turned to CLOSED Josh pushed it open, then walked right in. I followed. Once my eyes adjusted to the dark space I took in my surroundings. The bar was much bigger on the inside than it appeared from the outside. Plastic flags advertising different brands of beer hung below the wooden bar. Hundreds of photos - some in color, some in black and white - hung in frames covering most of the available wall space above worn booths with mismatched tables between them. Some were dark and metal, some maroon with a light wood trim, and some black and white checkered like you’d see in a diner. The bar in the middle was large and U-shaped, taking up most of the space from the right wall well into the center of the room. The stools pushed in underneath it were all mismatched as well. Some had backs and some were just simple black rounded cushions with patches so thin you could still make out the tears underneath. It smelled like stale cigarettes and fried fish; although it sounds like a horrible

combination I didn’t mind it much. There was something comforting about the place. Inviting. Warm even. Maybe it was the wood paneling on the walls or the chalk sidewalk sign leaning up against the bar that read: “Specials: We ain’t got none. ONLY BAR IN TOWN.” The ceilings were low, made even lower by the thousands of strands of string hanging from between the ceiling tiles. At the end of each string was a paperclip or a safety pin holding a torn napkin or post it note. “What are those?” I asked, pointing to the ceiling. Josh looked up. “It’s a tradition. Been doing it since before you or I was born. People write down a memory of their time here and the date. Some are engagements. Weddings. First dates. Highest poker score.” She pointed to the corner where a small table was set up with two fast food dinner baskets. One held torn papers and the other held string. An industrial looking stapler sat between them. “All good memories?” I asked, spinning around to take in the thousands and thousands of notes above my head. Josh shook her head. “No. Doesn’t have to be good. Just significant,” she said, pointing to one closer to the end of the wall that read: CAUGHT HIM WITH HIS TONGUE DOWN MY SISTER’S THROAT…AGAIN. -Bessy, June 1976 “Have you ever made one?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes to read more of the fascinating notes. Some of them were downright funny. SHE ACCIDENTALLY BRUSHED IT UNDER THE TABLE WITH HER FOOT. -Justin, Age 15, August 1984. Underneath was a note added in someone else’s handwriting: KICKED JUSTIN’S ASS FOR TRYING TO GET MY DAUGHTER TO TOUCH HIS TINY TWIG DICK. –HER DAD, August, 1984. “I’ve written my fair share,” Josh said. “Locals usually keep ours in the same place. Mine are mostly over there in the corner,” she said, pointing to the far wall. “I think my last one was something like TAKING ANOTHER DRUNK TO SLEEP IT OFF IN THE TANK TONIGHT. Actually, I think MOST of mine say that, just with different dates. Well, all of them except my first one,” she reached up and turned one over. MADE FRIENDS WITH A CRAZY WHITE BOY. -Brittany, AKA Josh, 2006. “Is there a name for them?” I asked, standing on my tiptoes to read them. “We call them tings.” “Tings?” “Yeah, I’m not exactly sure where they got the name from but whoever started calling

them that, it stuck.” Josh’s radio beeped and she held it up to her ear while the dispatcher on the other end talked in codes and numbers. “What do I look like, a fucking taxi service?” she barked into the radio. “No, you look more like a double D to me,” came a man’s voice on the other end followed by a blast of static. “Come on Josh, just come get me,” he whined. “Oh hell, no! You did not just say that, Miller,” Josh said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You gonna be okay?” she asked me. “I gotta run this…call.” “I’ll be fine,” I assured her. “Thanks for the lift.” Josh left just as the kitchen doors swung open and out stepped an older man who I assumed must be Critter. He was tall, just under six feet with a larger than average build. His hair was stark white, parted just off the center, long enough to brush the top of his ears. His traditional mustache matched the color of his hair. It was well groomed and thick, slightly longer on the sides stopping a little past his bottom lip. His face was tanned and heavily lined with age, although not so much to hide that he was still a handsome man and must have been quite a head-turner when he was a younger man. His deep amber eyes were hooded by dark, almost black, eyebrows which were just as bushy as his mustache. He looked up and dropped the glass in his hand. It fell to the floor but didn’t break, rolling to a stop against the leg of a nearby chair. “It’s you.”

Chapter Ten SAWYER

C

ritter spoke with the lowest voice I’d ever heard. It was smooth too, like the lowest note on an upright bass. I didn’t just hear his words. I felt them.

I looked around to see who he might’ve been talking to, but there was no one behind me. “Me?” I asked. He didn’t answer. He just stared at me silently for a few seconds, squinting like the sun was in his eyes even though the light in the room was dim at best. He took long slow strides toward me until the only thing separating us was the bar itself. “Sorry,” he said, blinking rapidly. He went back and picked up his broom, setting it against the counter. He grabbed a rag and began drying glasses. “I thought you were someone else.” He flipped his rag onto his shoulder and pushed up the rolled sleeves of his blue button-down, leaning forward with his palms flat on the bar. Suddenly it occurred to me that maybe this man knew my mom. Josh had said he’d been in Outskirts his entire life. “Maybe you knew my mother.” “Her name wasn’t Geraldine O’Conner by chance?” Critter asked, busying himself behind the bar. “Gerry is what we called her around here.” “No. My mother’s name was Caroline Dixon,” I said, feeling the excitement of the possibility drain from my system much like the dirty water draining from the sink Critter just pulled the stopper up from. “Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell,” he replied, wiping the same spot on the bar he’d just wiped a second before. “I’m feeling all sorts of stupid actually. There was no way you could have known her.” My mother had been raised in the church and never left unsupervised. There was no way she could have ever been here on her own before. The truth was that she probably skimmed off the weekly grocery allowance for years and bought the cheapest land she could find using our neighbor’s computer. Mrs. Jacobson wasn’t a member of the church, just a kind middle-aged woman who always looked upon us with our long skirts and makeup-less faces with sorrow in her long fake eyelash framed eyes. “Now that it’s clear we don’t have the same acquaintance,” Critter smiled. “What can I do for you, Miss…”

“Dixon. Sawyer Dixon,” I extended my hand. “You must be Mr. Critter. Josh told me about you.” “Just Critter. Mr. Critter was my father,” he corrected, giving my hand a sturdy shake. “Really?” “No, not really,” Just Critter teased. He was just as warm and comfortable as his bar. “I’m looking for a job,” I said hopefully. “I don’t suppose you might be hiring?” “What kind of work are you looking for?” “Anything. I’m a fast learner,” I reassured him. “Well, what kind of experience you got?” Critter leaned a hip against the bar and started polishing some glasses, hanging them from a sliding rack on the ceiling when he was done with each one. “Ummmmmm,” I scanned my brain for an answer that wouldn’t have him shooing me back out the door. I didn’t want to lie, but I also really needed the job. “So…no experience then?” He finished for me, throwing me a knowing look that I couldn’t argue with. I tried. Even going so far as to open my mouth to lie, but the honest truth pushed the lie to the side and tumbled out instead. “I’ve never had a job before, but I really need one.” My stomach growled as if to punctuate my point. I hadn’t eaten at all yet that day. I’d meant to shove some crackers in my bag but with my new neighbor muddying up my thoughts, I’d forgotten. “Wait right here,” Critter ordered, heading back into the kitchen. After a few minutes of clinking around, he came back out and set a plate with a sandwich in front of me. “What’s this?” I asked, looking from the plate to Critter. “This is food. It’s for your stomach. It’s growling so loud it’s gonna make the stray cats come ‘round so it’s on the house, you know, for the good of the bar,” he said. “Plus, it’s distracting.” I was about to push back the plate, but Critter narrowed his eyes. “Eat,” he demanded, and my stomach growled again like it was answering for me. “Thank you.” I sat down on a stool and on instinct, I folded my hands and bowed my head to pray. The second I closed my eyes I realized what I’d done and changed my mind, diving into my sandwich instead. I didn’t know if I was ever going to pray again, but if and when I did, it was going to be on my terms. “I may be old, kid, but the only one who thinks I’m going senile round here is Edie,” he hooked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the kitchen doors which were short and western style. Steam rose over the top along with the sound of pots and pans clattering around in the kitchen. “So give it to me straight. What it is you need exactly and why and I’ll tell you if I think we can help each other out or not.”

I swallowed hard and emptied half the glass of water he’d set in front of me. I took a deep breath. “This is my first time out on my own. I’ve got a place to stay, but I’m short on funds. And you’re right, I’ve got no experience. None. I don’t even have a real high school diploma. I’ve never been in a bar before today. I’ve never had a job either unless you count volunteering at church and even I don’t count that. But I really am a very fast learner, a very hard worker, and my mother used to say that I’m reliable, almost to my own detriment. I’ve been that way for a long time because she said that to me when I was very young and I remember having to look up what ‘detriment’ meant. However, I know that in this case, my reliability will be a really good thing if you give me a chance. You won’t regret it. I swear.” “You always talk that fast?” Critter asked after a long pause. “Not always,” I said with a mouthful of food. “Good,” Critter nodded sharply. “’Cause the folks ‘round here aren’t slow of mind, but they are slow in talk so you might have to dial down the rapid-fire when you take their orders.” “Of course, I’ll…” I hadn’t realized I was looking down at my hands until Critter’s words caused me to look up into his big smile. “Wait, what?” “Sloooowww with the orders,” he said, stretching out his words in slow motion. “Really?” I asked in complete disbelief. “I have a job?” “Yes, ma’am,” Critter gestured with the glass in his hand to the walls around the bar. “You seem desperate, and if you haven’t already guessed it…desperation is kind of our thing around here.” “Thank you.” I felt relief wash over me. “You can start tomorrow night. Where ‘bouts are you staying at?” And just like that, my mind was brought back to the other problem at hand. Finn. “Off Orange Grove.” “A bit swampy over there,” Critter said, reaching for another glass. “A bit. You know where it is?” “Is there a run-down cabin out there on the edge of the water right?” I nodded. “I’m surprised that thing is still standing, but yeah, everyone knows it around these parts. Well, everyone knows everyone. The town ain’t big enough to miss new people coming in or old people going out. Although, we don’t got much by either way these days.” I finished the last bite of my sandwich. “Yeah, well, I’m hoping I can make the mud land I inherited a little more stable for my camper.” “Inherited?” Critter questioned.

“From my mother,” I explained. A shrill female voice cried out from the kitchen. “Critter, that dang burner is on the fritz again and I need to make the gravy for the tater-tot surprise!” Critter backed away from the counter with a quizzical look on his face. “You running from something, Sawyer Dixon?” I paused for a moment. “I think of it more like I’m running toward something.” “And what exactly would that be?” The air conditioner kicked on and the tings above our heads danced in the new breeze courtesy of the vents. I glanced up to them then back to Critter. “Freedom.”

Chapter Eleven FINN

A

boom rattled the cabin and my eyes shot open.

“Finn Hollis, you get your hermit ass out here right the fuck now before I blow a hole in your shack the size of the Okeechobee!” Josh. Shit. I tried to move and groaned when my head pounded out a hateful message behind my eyes. I rolled off the couch and stumbled to my feet, knocking over empty beer bottles from the small coffee table. Squinting under the invading light shining through the front window I cursed myself for not remembering to shut the curtains the night before, but it was all a blur, courtesy of my friend Jim Beam. A blast from a shotgun echoed through the house. The sound vibrating through my body, intensifying every ache, pain and unwelcome feeling. “What the fuck, Josh?” I stepped out onto the porch, pulling on an undershirt that was hanging from the railing. Sure enough, Josh was standing in my front yard, shotgun in hand. “What the fuck?” She placed a hand on her hip and propped her gun up with the other arm. “I’m the one that should be asking you that considering you tried to run an innocent girl off the road before breaking into her camper and attempting to run her off her land.” “What girl?” I asked, knowing full well who she was talking about although my brain was still muddied. “That girl!” Josh said, pointing to the little rusted camper parked across the way. “The road. That was an accident,” I admitted, scratching my jaw. I needed to trim my face before it became so itchy I scratched off my own skin. “I didn’t have my lights on.” “Figured as much,” Josh grumbled. “And she IS on my property,” I added. “She owns the quarter acre right behind it, she just can’t get to it, yet,” she argued.

“Not my problem.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Now you should probably go.” Josh raised her gun, aimed, and fired. The back windshield of my Bronco shattered in an instant. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Finn. I’m the law around here. Not you. We aren’t kids anymore. We aren’t even friends anymore. So I’m going to tell you how it’s going to go.” “Does the law always blow out the windows in people’s trucks to get their attention?” I asked, leaning on the rail. “I do what needs to be done. And the only reason I’m not blasting a hole through your chest is because I know what day yesterday was. But you WILL leave Sawyer alone. If I hear that you’re trying to mess with her again or run her off, or God forbid hurt her in any way…” Josh glared at me. “I swear to God I’ll bury you out back with the gators and the snakes.” “Josh…” I faltered. “No.” She raised her hand. “You don’t get to JOSH me. Not anymore. It’s Deputy Hugo to you.” My stomach churned. The yelling I could handle. The hurt in her voice was harder to swallow. “You can push us all away, Finn, but I can tell that girl’s been through some shit, so she don’t need more shit from the likes of you.” She lowered the gun. I took a step down from the porch but Josh regarded me with a watery warning in her big brown eyes and stepped back, tossing her gun in the bed of her truck. “No,” she said. “It’s too late for that. You got some need to want to hole up in your little swamp shack and pretend the world around you don’t exist? Then fine. Do just that. But leave Sawyer alone. Consider this your only warning.” She opened the door of her truck. “Do what you’re good at, Finn. Do to her what you’ve done to everyone else.” She lowered her voice. “Stay the hell away.” I retreated into my dark dank living room and picked up a half empty bottle of whiskey from the floor next to the worn sofa. Josh was right. I should stick to what I’m good at. I tipped the bottle to my mouth and tried to pretend I hadn’t just learned why they say the truth hurts.

Chapter Twelve SAWYER

N

o matter what I did. No matter what button I pushed or how many pleas I sent out into the universe, water would not come out of my sink or shower. The tank was full. I’d checked three times. No leaks either. Something was either clogging it, or the universe was plotting against me. Both had equal chances of being the reason why the water suddenly stopped working. I checked the clock. I had to be at Critter’s in just under an hour. By my estimate, it would take me about a half of an hour to walk there so if I didn’t get showered and ready in the next ten to fifteen minutes, I’d be late for my first day. The jugs I had bought days before were now empty and I didn’t know how to get water from the tank on the outside of the camper either. I decided that as much as I didn’t want to, that I’d ask Finn if I could use his shower. Unfortunately, I was almost to his door when one glance was all it took for me to realize why asking him would be a very, very bad idea. First, because Finn’s shower was outside on the left side of his porch. Second, because he was already in it. Third, because he was very, VERY naked. Finn stood under the spray with his hands flush on the side of the house, letting the water cascade over the back of his head and shoulders, dripping down every inch of taut muscle on the way down to his rounded backside and strong thick thighs. His eyes were closed tightly as if he were deep in thought. I’d meant to turn around and run the other way or at the very least cover my eyes. In my head, that’s exactly what I was doing. In reality, I stood there, gawking, unable to look away until Finn cleared his throat, breaking me out of my trance. I looked up to find him standing there, now facing me as he lathered up his naked body. He stepped back under the spray, the suds washed away, trailing down to the deep V pointing to the private place between his strong thighs. And then there it was. Just hanging there.

Long. Thick. I stopped breathing. “Let me guess, not only was the other night the first night you heard the word fuck, but today’s the first day you’ve seen a real cock?” I couldn’t hear all of his words. I was heavily distracted by a clenching sensation going on in my pelvis. “Did you need something?” Finn asked, walking up to the railing, dripping water all over the wooden deck and giving me a much closer view of what he had going on between his legs. He shook out his hair and mussed it with his hand. “Uh.” I spun around, hiding my red face. “Never mind.” “Are you sure about that?” When I turned back around to face him I assumed he’d be covered up, but no such luck. He had a towel but he wasn’t using it to cover up, he was rubbing it up and down his torso and legs to dry off. “I was going to ask if I could use your shower,” I explained, keeping my eyes trained above his head. “Now I realize that wasn’t the best idea.” “You can use my shower,” Finn offered. “Really?” That was way too easy. “Yes,” he said, wickedly. “I was just finishing up. You can join me.” “That’s not what I…,” I tried to explain, although the glint in his eye told me he was aware it wasn’t what I’d meant. He smiled salaciously. “I got a job at Critter’s. The water tank on my camper isn’t working…you know what? I’ll figure something else out.” I stormed back off across the yard. My cheeks heated with frustration and embarrassment and something else entirely. I fiddled with the tank some more, but still couldn’t get it to work. After five-minutes, I spotted Finn out of the corner of my eye loading a small boat into the waterway behind the shack. He pulled the string on the small motor and after a few seconds he was gone and all that remained was the echoing ZING of the little motor. It was now or never. There was no time left for hesitation. I bolted across the yard, my feet sinking into the wet ground. I barely registered the blown-out window of Finn’s Bronco while I tossed my clothes on the porch steps. I ran over to the side of the house, stepped into the metal basin and turned the shower knob. I yelped under the cold spray, but after only a few seconds it began to warm. There were two plastic bottles at my feet. One was a bottle of liquid soap and another was shampoo, both with farmer’s market labels. I squeezed a little of the shampoo into my palms and massaged it into my scalp. It smelled like cedar and clean laundry. I inhaled deeply but there wasn’t time to linger. I rinsed my hair in record time. Grabbing the bottle

of soap, I rubbed it into a lather and smoothed it over every inch of my body and face. I’d just finished rinsing and reached for the knob to turn off the water when it squeaked to a close and it turned off. I hadn’t even touched it. My hands shook as I wiped the water from my eyes. I didn’t need to open them to know who I’d find standing right in front of me. I felt him there. His eyes on me. On my body. My naked body. I shivered long before his glinting blue eyes locked on mine. I crossed my arms over my chest to try and hide as much as myself from him as possible, including my now hardened nipples. “Too late, I’ve already seen it all,” Finn said with a grin. “You,” my cheeks heated, “were watching me?” I looked around for somewhere to go, somewhere to run, but I couldn’t focus on what was around me and there was no way I was going to get anywhere without revealing more of myself. Finn’s eyes darkened. He leaned in and I was so surprised by the move that I stumbled back against the wall. “What are you doing?” He inhaled deeply and stepped back. “I prefer the lavender.” “What?” “The other night. In your camper. You smelled like lavender.” “I…I need my clothes.” I bounced eagerly and uncomfortably on my knees. Finn nodded to a plastic chair in the far corner of the porch where a towel was draped across the back. I had no choice but to shuffle sideways to reach it, keeping my legs stiff and locked at the knee. I released myself for a micro second so I could snatch the towel and wrap it around my naked body. My stomach churned and when I turned back to face Finn again, I suddenly felt too warm and too cold all at the same time. Finn’s brow furrowed. Lines formed on his forehead. He leaned back against the porch railing and frowned. My father’s words seeped past the barrier that I’d put up in my brain to keep him out. A man is never to see your naked flesh besides your husband. Those women who allow themselves to be a feast for another’s eyes will burn in the depths of Hell. Hearing father’s words caused something inside me to shift. Suddenly, I wasn’t just anxious and confused. I was angry. “Thank you for letting me use your shower,” I said, straightening my shoulders. Feeling braver, I marched right up to Finn with every intention of zipping past him.

“I didn’t let you do anything,” Finn said, reaching out and stopping me in my tracks by toying with the bottom of the towel, almost like a reminder that he could rip it off me at any moment. “I was trying sarcasm,” I said, my attempt at bravery falling flat. “You like torturing me, don’t you?” Finn asked, cocking his head to the side. “Me?” I asked. “You’re the one who…never mind. I’m just going to go.” Finn tugged on the towel again and I stilled, not wanting to be naked in front of him for the second time in just as many minutes. Finn stood tall, looming over me. Using his larger than life presence to his advantage. “You don’t have to torture me, you know. That job’s already taken.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, honestly. Although, this time when his eyes met mine, I recognized something familiar in them I couldn’t quite place. “You really don’t know, do you?” Finn traced the line of the towel with his fingertips, brushing the skin of my thigh and heating it along the way. “Know what?” I was breathless and suddenly feeling very dizzy. “So…innocent,” he crooned, shaking his head. I tried to collect myself. “I…I’m going to be late for work.” “Tell me one thing first and then you can go.” Finn tugged on the towel again. I had no choice but to back up so my hip was against his thigh. “What?” “Tell me something about yourself.” “Like what? My favorite color? I don’t think I have one,” I said. “No,” Finn licked his bottom lip. “Tell me what you thought when you saw me today. When you were watching me shower.” “Why?” I felt heated recalling his wet and glistening body. “The way you looked at me…” he started. “Let’s just say that your curiosity has made me curious.” I shifted uncomfortably, pressing my thighs together. I bit my lower lip. “Please, I just have to go and…” “Tell me and you can go.” Finn wasn’t holding me or hurting me. He was only asking me a question and I really, really had to go or I was going to be late. I closed my eyes tightly as I tossed him the truth. “I thought…” “Open your eyes, look at me,” Finn insisted. I looked at him and gasped, quickly realizing what I was seeing in his eyes that was so familiar to me.

Hurt. “I was thinking that I didn’t know that a naked man…” I summoned every ounce of courage I had to continue. If Finn was doing this just to try and intimidate me, I wasn’t going to let him. I took a deep breath and steadied my words. Looking past his blue eyes I spoke directly to the hurt in them. “I was thinking that I didn’t know a naked man could be so beautiful.” Finn’s arm dropped and I didn’t stay to register his reaction. I darted to the steps, gathered my clothes, then sprinted across the yard. Once inside my camper, I dressed quickly, grabbed my bag, and started a fast-paced power walk to Critters. There was no time to linger on what had just happened. Especially, since I had no idea what exactly that was.

Chapter Thirteen SAWYER

D

espite the shower incident with Finn I managed to make it to work on time. Somewhat winded.

But on time. There were three other waitresses working. Missy and Maya were identical twin sisters with long blonde hair and matching gap-toothed smiles. They stood off to the side, I caught an exchange of knowing glances between them while I dried some glasses. “What is it?” I asked. “Missy just wanted to know…” Maya started. Maya nudged her in the shoulder and spoke between her teeth. “No, I didn’t. YOU wanted to know.” “Know what?” I prompted, setting down the glass. “About your clothes,” Missy and Maya echoed. I glanced down at my long denim skirt and button-down shirt. “What do you want to know?” “They want to know why you’re wearing them,” another voice jumped in. Kayla, another waitress who I assumed was around my age. Her skin was flawless and she had a big red lipped smile that showed off stunningly bright white teeth. They all wore tight tops and short shorts, paired with sneakers or boots. Kayla’s entire outfit looked as if it were painted on, showing off her tiny waist and perfectly round breasts. Just like Finn’s body, I wasn’t appalled by their form as I was always taught I should be. That women should hide their figures, but one look at these women and their beautiful curves and I knew that way of thinking had to be wrong. Why hide the very things that makes us women? That makes us beautiful. It had me wondering what Finn might have thought when he’d seen all of me that morning. Did he think my naked figure was beautiful? As beautiful as I thought his was? “I come from a conservative family,” I said, using the same simple explanation I’d

given Josh. “You all go back to work and mind your own damned business,” Critter chimed in. The girls scattered like roaches under a light. I considered what the other girls were wearing. “I’m sorry. Should I be wearing something else?” I glanced down at my skirt. “I forgot to ask about the dress code.” Critter held up his hand and cut me off. “If that’s what you want to wear, then that’s what you should wear.” He shrugged. “It’s really as simple as that. No dress code around here except just, you know…wear some damned clothes.” “It’s not what I want to wear,” I admitted, glancing back over to Kayla who had a tray of glasses raised above her head. She walked from table to table with confidence and a smile. “Then I recommend heading to Bebe’s. She’ll take care of you.” Critter tapped out some numbers on an ancient calculator under the even more ancient looking register and jotted some notes down in a receipt book. “Josh said the same thing.” “And that girl knows her clothes. Despite the police uniform and that look in her eye like she’s about to cut you,” Critter joked. He went back to the kitchen and put Kayla in charge of showing me the ropes. She was patient with me while I tried to grasp the concept. I hadn’t eaten out much in my life, never mind waited tables, but toward the middle of the day I was finally catching on and knew the abbreviation for most everything on the menu and how to write them down on the order slip. “So where are you staying, Sawyer?” Maya asked. She threw me a rag and I followed her lead, wiping down tables and refilling the ketchup and mustard bottles. We were in the middle of shifting gears between the lunch and dinner crowd. “Off Orange Grove Blvd. If you ever want to come by, just look for the old shack in the middle of nowhere. I’m the camper across the way under about three feet of mud,” I said. “Mud is our town mascot,” Kayla chimed in, grabbing a broom and sweeping up around the bar, sliding the stools in and out, the feet making a horrible scraping noise against the concrete floor. “So I hear.” “Have you gotten a chance to meet anyone else in town?” Maya asked, spraying the front window with glass cleaner and wiping it down with a big coffee filter. “Less streaks than paper towels,” she explained when she saw me staring. “I met Josh,” I started. They all nodded. No further description needed. “Critter, of course.” An image of Caribbean blue eyes and an angry scowl came to mine. “And…Finn?” His name came out like a question.

All three girls stopped what they were doing. Kayla dropped her broom. Maya set her spray bottle down on the floor. Missy looked up from filing her nails. “Finn Hollis?” Maya asked. “Unless there is another Finn?” I tightened the lid on a ketchup bottle. “Are you sure it was Finn? Blonde hair. Tall. Rugged. Come-hither eyes attached to a come-hither body?” Kayla asked. “That’s him.” I nodded. “And he TALKED to you?” Maya leaned her chin on her hand. “He doesn’t talk to anyone. Not anymore.” “Uh, yes. He talked to me.” If you considered threats to be talking. “But only briefly.” I wasn’t about to tell them about what had happened earlier. Before I knew it, they were all standing around the table I was wiping down. “What? What is it you aren’t telling me?” I asked. Kayla rested her elbows on the table. She folded her hands together, creating a steeple. She lowered her voice so the three of us had to lean in to hear what she had to say. “Let me tell you a story. A fairytale, if you will.” “All right.” I set down my rag and took a seat across from her. The twins followed. Kayla dramatically looked between the three of us like what she was about to tell us was classified information. “Once upon a time,” Kayla started. “Finn Hollis was known as the lord of the swamp. He was a do-er. Someone who could get anything done in a moment’s notice. Some of the things he did were on the up-and-up. Others were only mentioned in the softest of hushed whispers after Sunday church. You either loved him. Hated him. Feared him,” she bit her lower lip, “or lusted after him.” The twins giggled. “Regardless, Finn WAS Outskirts. Our golden boy. More popular than our own mayor. Then one day, a terrible tragedy drove him deep into the swamp to wallow in his grief. He still comes around from time to time, but sightings of him are almost as rare as the Swamp Ape, although told between residents of Outskirts with even more surprise and awe.” “Swamp ape?” I questioned. “Think of it like a redneck Yeti,” Maya chimed in. “Okaaaay.” I slid my chair back and stepped away from the table. Suddenly feeling the need to put some distance between myself and the legend of Finn Hollis. Although one more question lingered in my mind. “What happened?” I asked. “What was the great tragedy that made him run off?” Maya emptied a dustpan into the trash and glanced back over her shoulder. Her smile was a sad one. “The lord lost his lady.”

Chapter Fourteen FINN

Sixteen Years Old…

I

t was Jackie’s sixteenth birthday and the two of us had snuck away from the bonfire where most of the kids from school were keeping the party going.

John Anderson sang “Straight Tequila Night” through the speakers of Miller’s Honda over the less pleasant sound of Josh and Miller mouthing off to one another. Miller, in his drunken state, had scared off Josh’s date, Scott, by telling him that Josh was pregnant with his baby. When he followed Josh into the trees my money was on that Miller wouldn’t be making it back out alive. That was on him though. I had other more important things on my mind. Jackie and I slipped into the tent I’d assembled before the party got started. We were kissing and touching. Making out without coming up for air like we always did. After only a few minutes, I was already in some serious pain. I knew that the night was going to end with a non-stop ticket to blue balls express land. But it was always worth it. Jackie was always worth it. Even when things weren’t great and she was going through one of her phases where she was either mad at me all the time, or she’d skip class and stay home to sleep all day, things were still great. There were more good times than bad, and that night wasn’t just a good night. It was a great night. “What do you want for your birthday?” I asked, needing to stop what we were doing before I embarrassed myself in my pants. Jackie bit her lip and looked away shyly. Her blonde hair was splayed out all around her. I picked up a lock and rubbed the softness between my fingers. “Come on,” I tickled her ribs. “Tell me.” Jackie giggled and the sound shot straight to my aching dick. “I…I want you,” she

whispered. And just like that, whoosh, the air was ripped from my lungs. Jackie blushed and her green eyes glimmered. I swallowed hard. “You…you do? When?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager. Meanwhile, my dick was doing cartwheels against my zipper. Jackie reached under the sleeping bag. I shifted off of her and onto my side to give her room. “Is now okay?” she asked, handing me a condom. With no thought of a word in the English language that could convey my excitement, I simply nodded and waited for my heart to calm down so I wouldn’t die from a heart attack before I had the chance to lose my virginity. We undressed and I climbed over her between her spread legs, lifting up to give myself just enough space to attempt to tear open the condom wrapper. “I don’t really know what to do,” Jackie admitted, giggling nervously. “We’ll figure it out,” I reassured her, sliding on the condom, wishing that porn videos didn’t skip that part so I’d be better prepared. When it was finally on, I lowered myself onto her. We were both shaking. When we finally came together it was a lot of forehead bumping, teeth clanking, and accidental hair pulling. Awkward at best. It was by far the greatest night of my entire life. Or so I thought.

Nineteen Years Old Jackie and I were sitting around with a group of friends on my parents’ back deck while they were out of town. It had been a bad few weeks. I had to practically pry Jackie out of her house to get her to come hang out with me. And for a while, I was glad I had. We’d both had a few drinks and Jackie was snuggled on my lap as we listened to our friends tell their small town crazy stories. When Miller brought up the subject of losing our virginities I couldn’t help but smile at the memory. I squeezed Jackie’s hip. Her shoulders shook against me when she laughed. Her voice when she spoke came out high-pitched. Shrill. I’d never heard her sound that way before. “Oh please, everybody lies about losing their virginity. Am I right?” she asked, clinking her beer bottle to Josh’s which remained still in her hand. “I mean, I told Finn he was my first and he actually bought it. Remember that, baby?”

I froze. Jackie looked up at me, but I wasn’t smiling like she was. Nobody was. Jackie didn’t seem to realize that everyone else around us had gone silent. “Come on. Let’s go,” I said, pushing her off my lap and grabbing her by the hand. “I’m taking you home.” “Now?” she asked, pushing against me. “I’m not going anywhere. You drag me all the way here and expect me to sit and talk and make nice with these people.” She looked around the table with disgust. “People that I haven’t even liked in years.” I tugged harder, but she pulled her hand from mine. “And we were just starting to have fun, weren’t we guys?” Miller and Josh looked to me. The others looked to the ground or each other. “I mean,” Jackie laughed. “I gave it up to Anthony Steward like six hours before you.” Her laugh died in her mouth and she looked at me. Instead of humor on her face, there was only bitterness. Contempt. Her gaze narrowed. “I told him the same story about him being my first that I told you, but unlike you, he didn’t buy it for one second.” Jackie cackled. “I mean really, Finn. How stupid can you be?” I wanted to blame her behavior on being drunk but she’d only had two beers. This wasn’t the alcohol talking. This was Jackie. “Enough,” I ground out, grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her toward my truck. She continued to laugh maniacally even as I picked her up and hoisted her over my shoulder. She laughed throughout most of the drive home too. It wasn’t until I could hear my own voice again that I realized she’d finally stopped. When I looked over to the passenger seat she was fast asleep against the window. I slammed my hand against the steering wheel. Tears pricked at my eyes. It was the first night I realized Jackie’s little problem was a much, much bigger problem than I’d ever imagined. It was also the first night I ever questioned my feelings for her. The first night I felt guilty for doing so. The rope of our relationship, the one I thought couldn’t ever be cut, began to fray. It was a turning point, but not just in my life, in all of our lives. Mine, Josh’s, Miller’s, and Jackie’s. One we never saw coming. That night was the beginning of the end.

Chapter Fifteen SAWYER

C

ritter’s was a much busier place than I’d expected. Most of the time I was there, I helped Critter behind the bar, taking simple food orders and washing glasses while he topped off the drinks. “Hey Sawyer, do you want to go do something after work?” Sterling asked, setting down his beer. Sterling was a regular. I’d seen him almost every day since I’d started. He’d introduced himself the second he sat down as the owner of the feed store and made sure I knew that the meatloaf Monday special was his absolute favorite. Sterling was under six feet. Messy dark brown, almost black hair that worked for his dark grey eyes. His smile was straight whereas Finn’s was slightly crooked. Sterling was softer than Finn’s muscular build, but his biceps filled every bit of room of his shortsleeved, button-down, denim-blue work shirt, probably from tossing feed bags all day. I inwardly smacked myself for comparing him to Finn. Who I hadn’t seen since the shower incident besides the occasional swaying of his window curtains or the sound of his boat motor echoing over the house. Even after realizing I was comparing Sterling and Finn I found myself continuing to do it. Sterling was by far friendlier than Finn. He never scowled at me or made me feel unwelcome. He didn’t seem moody or broody or set on making me feel uncomfortable. Sterling was exactly the kind of guy I should want to have around. I was twenty-one years old and had never been on an actual date. However, my excitement at the prospect of a real date faded when the obvious hit me. There was no spark between me and Sterling. No hum of energy. No connection of any kind. Everything I didn’t want to feel when Finn was around but DID. “Thanks, Sterling. You’re…really sweet.” Sterling’s smile dimmed ever so slightly. “But…” I leaned a hip on the counter. “But I haven’t been here that long. I’m not really looking

for anything right now,” I explained. “Still getting my bearings.” Sterling laughed and took a sip of his beer. “And what is so funny?” I asked, finding myself chuckling with him. “I was thinking about maybe walking you home, not walking you down the aisle, Sawyer.” He leaned over the bar and whispered, “You know, ‘cause that’s what FRIENDS do. They hang out. They go for walks. Ain’t much else to do around here.” His smile grew again and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Yeah, I kind of did jump the gun on that one, didn’t I?” I laughed at myself. Feeling ridiculous thinking that his invite was something more than what it really was. “Sorry,” I offered with a wince. “No harm no foul.” “All right then, friend,” I said. “I get off in thirty minutes. If the offer still stands, I’d like to take you up on that walk.” “Then I’ll see you in thirty,” Sterling said with a wink. He stood and pushed back his stool. He walked over to the ting trays at the end of the bar and pulled out a piece of paper and a blue string. He scribbled something down and hung it from the ceiling right above his seat at the bar and sat back down. Out of curiosity, I stood on my tiptoes and he watched me read what he’d written on his ting. June 6th, 2017 Made a new friend. I like her freckles. -Sterling “Here you go,” Critter said, coming up beside me and shoving a huge wad of cash in my hands at the end of my shift. “What’s this for?” “This, is what they call money,” he said sarcastically, laughing at his own joke. “It also happens to be the tips you neglected to pick up so far this week.” When he smiled it was like his mustache was smiling too. “Oh,” I said. “I’ll have to remember that one.” I tapped my finger on my head. “Pick up the money, Sawyer.” “There you go. You’ll get the hang of it, kid,” Critter headed over to the far end of the bar when someone called his name. “Hey,” Sterling called, coming back up to the bar. “I’m going to have to take a raincheck on that walk. One of my employees just ran over a fence on a delivery. Another time though, okay?” He winked. “Sure,” I said, feeling both relieved and slightly disappointed. Although, overall, I was really enjoying getting to know the people of Outskirts.

Well, MOST of them.

Chapter Sixteen SAWYER

I

was getting ready to walk home when Josh strolled through the door minus her usual police uniform. She pushed up her dark sunglasses to the top of her head like a headband. Thick gold hoops dangled from her ears and a dozen or so tiny gold bracelets clattered on her wrists. A white halter top and cut off black shorts showed off her tiny waist, epic curves and creamy dark skin. “Come on, little lady. Clothes and fashion waits for no one,” Josh said, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me out into the sunlight. I followed her through the main street area which was less than a half of a mile long and consisted of buildings intermixed with vacant land. Every other building was boarded up. “That’s Miss Andrea,” Josh said, pointing to a shop that read Outskirts Cakes & Pies. “She makes the best chocolate mousse pie in three counties. Actually,” she patted her flat stomach, “stay far, far away from her or they’ll be knocking down a wall of your little RV to remove you.” “No chocolate mousse pie,” I repeated, pressing my lips together to hide my smile. “There’s Gary’s garage.” Josh pointed to a small building with two bays, one of which was open. “That’s who towed your truck. He’s a good guy. Won’t try and fix something that ain’t broke just to make a quick buck.” “There’s the library,” she said, waving to a building that looked like an old schoolhouse. Unfortunately, it was boarded up. “It closed when everything else started to close.” “That’s a shame,” I said, grieving over all the books I never got a chance to read. We passed several people on the way. All who knew Josh by name. She introduced me to everyone and when we passed a building that had several signs she explained that it was because the building was the bank, post office, and police station, all-in-one. “Oh, shit,” Josh swore, stopping and rolling her eyes when the door to the multipurposed building opened and a man emerged, crossing the street quickly with his eyes locked on Josh. He was just as tall as Finn. His dark hair was pulled into a bun at the nape of his neck. “Come on,” Josh said, walking faster as the man jogged to catch up, thin gold chain swished around his neck.

“I’ve been looking for you, Josh,” he said slyly, as he ran in front of us and stopped, blocking the walkway. He rubbed his hand over the dark facial hair around his mouth and looked Josh up and down. “I know you’ve been looking for me, Miller. That’s why I’ve been avoiding you,” Josh retorted, pushing past him. Miller’s bright white sneakers caught my attention. I was curious how he kept them so clean in Mudville, USA. I looked down to my own white sneakers that were several shades of yellow and brown and I’d only been there a couple of days. “Who’s your friend?” Miller asked, smiling at me. He followed us as we hustled across the street. I jumped over a puddle that Josh barely had to lift her long leg to step over. Josh turned, stopping so abruptly Miller almost slammed into her chest. She held her hand over her heart and smiled up at him sweetly. Fake but sweetly. Blinking rapidly. “Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t introduce you. Miller this is Sawyer. Sawyer is new in town. Sawyer this is Miller.” She lowered her voice to a deep gravelly tone and spoke but barely moved her lips. “The bane of my existence.” She started walking again. “Hi,” Miller said, holding out his hand. “I promise that Josh really loves me. She just has a really unique way of showing it. ISN’T THAT RIGHT, JOSH?” he shouted so she could hear. Josh flashed him a middle finger over her head without missing a beat. “And she messed up my introduction. I’ve actually been the bane of her existence going on over ten years now.” I shook his hand and Miller beamed a big white smile. His front two teeth were turned slightly inward, but it worked for him. If they were straight his smile would’ve been almost too perfect for someone so rugged. He was handsome, but not in an in-your-face way. “It’s nice to meet you, Miller.” “Can you please tell Josh that our love can’t be ignored?” he shouted again, cupping his hands over his mouth. When we came to a boutique that read BeBe’s on the hanging wooden sign Josh stopped. “Miller,” she said seriously. “Did you know that our new friend here has met Finn?” “What?” Miller asked, seeming genuinely surprised. “Sawyer, why don’t you go on in,” Josh said, holding open the door for me. “I’ll join you in just a second.” “Sure,” I said, heading into the store. The door closed behind me with a chime of the bells overhead. I tried not to stare but out of the corner of my eye, Josh and Miller were very animated, waving their hands around and bickering back and forth, although I couldn’t hear what exactly they were bickering about. I walked around and perused the racks of clothes for a few moments. I was the only

one in the shop until the bells chimed again and Josh joined me. “Sorry about that. As I said, bane of my existence,” Josh said, already pulling items from the rack and shoving them into my arms. “Is he your…” I stopped myself before I could finish the question. “Never mind. That was rude of me.” “He’s not my anything, but he’s been in my life since we were kids so I can’t get rid of him. He’s like…” she looked to the ceiling while she thought for a moment. “He’s like an extra limb that doesn’t do me any good but doesn’t do me any harm either. Cutting it off would be a whole lot of work for no reason. It’s easier just to keep it there. Uselessly dangling from between my shoulder blades.” “So, Miller knows Finn too?” I asked curiously. “Sure does,” Josh said, although she didn’t elaborate further. A woman with bright red hair and matching lips walked in through the back door wearing a bright yellow halter dress and matching heels. “Josh! I was about to call you. I put those earrings on order. They should be here Tuesday.” “Sawyer, this is Bebe,” Josh introduced. Bebe looked me up and down, and although she tried to hide the disapproval on her face, her eyebrow was defiantly twitching, giving away her inner thoughts regarding my clothes without having to say a single word. “Lovely to meet you, Sawyer. What can I do for you today?” “What are you looking for Sawyer?” Josh asked. “I’m looking to…not look like this,” I answered, turning to the mirror to face a girl I’d seen every day of my life but didn’t know. Bebe rubbed her hands together and bit her lower lip. “This is going to be way too much fun.” After a few hours, I had a cute but inexpensive pair of second-hand brown leather boots, a couple pairs of cut off shorts like Josh’s, and some simple fitted tank tops. And for the first time in my life, I even owned a few new bras that weren’t beige or looked matronly and some boy-short style underwear in different colors. All the undergarments were new of course. When we left with packages in hand and my old clothes in the trash bin under the register, I’d only spent a fraction of what I’d earned in tips my first week. We stepped out into the wet heat, the sun had started to set spraying rays of varying shades of oranges and pinks through the sky as it dropped lower and lower. For the first time in my life, I was equipped to handle the summer heat. The feeling of the breeze across my skin was downright glorious. I felt exposed yet empowered. After shedding the heavy skin of my past, I was practically skipping down the street feeling as light as I’d ever felt.

“You like the new look, don’t you?” Josh nudged me in the arm. “More than you could ever imagine,” I sang, spreading my arms out to the side, tipping my face up to the sun and bathing in the sun’s rays that were kissing places it had never kissed before. “Sunscreen. I recommend lots and lots of sunscreen,” Josh said, grabbing me by the hand and dragging me into the general store. She introduced me to Lucy behind the counter then I roamed the aisles, picking up some necessities including a few more gallons of water and some food that wouldn’t go bad without being refrigerated since the little fridge in the camper didn’t get all that cold. “You know, apartments are fairly cheap here. You could probably afford an entire place on your own from what you’re making at Critter’s now. Shit, I have a place of my own. They say the police in big cities don’t get paid well? They should see my lousy check.” “An apartment? Really?” “Yeah, really.” “I don’t know. My mom left me that camper before she died. It isn’t much but I feel, I don’t know, closer to her somehow. I think I’ll stay where I am for now.” We came to the corner where a thick metal pole at least six feet around at the base jutted up into the sky. I craned my neck and followed with my eyes all the way to the top. “Maybe I’ll buy one of those someday.” I pointed to the billboard overhead. It was so high it could be seen from the highway. Which was probably the point. The ad was for park model homes and depicted a happy family of three smiling and waving their new keys in front of a small house with white siding and blue shutters. The edge of the billboard was peeling, revealing another ad underneath for something involving pink tacos. “I just thought you might want to get away from Finn,” Josh said, “Although I don’t think he’ll be giving you any more problems.” She smirked. “His truck windows,” I suddenly realized. “That was you?” “Rule number one. Never admit to your crimes,” Josh said, pointing at me. “ALLEGED crimes,” she amended. “EVER.” We laughed and as the night took over the sky from day I felt as if I could take on the world. That was until a loud clap of thunder popped the feeling like a knife being tossed into a balloon. During the drive back to my camper I smiled and tried to engage in everything that Josh said. Meanwhile, my thoughts were on the approaching storm. The one OVER my head. And the one IN my head.

Chapter Seventeen SAWYER

Y

ou’re being irrational, Sawyer. It’s just a little storm. You’re an adult. You can deal with this. You’ve dealt with so much more.

I thought once I’d gotten inside I’d feel better, but as the sky darkened and I felt the rumbling of thunder beneath my feet, I found myself rocking back and forth on my bed. It didn’t matter how many times I assured myself that it was just a little storm. That it couldn’t hurt me. It made no difference. I’d run away from a life I hated and stupidly thought that because I’d been so brave in that aspect that a little thunder wouldn’t have the same effect on me it once did. However, with each clap of thunder or bolt of lightning, I was learning how ridiculous and how wrong I’d been. I curled myself into a smaller and smaller ball, hoping I would just disappear until the storm passed. My mom used to come to my room and sing to me during a storm to ease me back to sleep. But that was only after he’d disciplined her for one reason or another. Each roll of thunder was a flying angry fist. I tried to imagine her words. Her arms around me. To find comfort in her even though she wasn’t there. It was no use. Heavy rain pounded against the thin walls of my little refuge. High winds angrily pelted mud and debris against the window, shaking it loose. I found myself counting the seconds under my breath until I was sure the window would eventually break. I pulled my worn knit blanket over my head, willing away the weather that had my heart beating like an airplane propeller getting ready for takeoff and my breathing reduced to quick shallow pants. I felt dizzy. Stars danced in front of my eyes. A strong clap of thunder rolled through, slowly at first, shaking the ground like a warning of things to come. A roar of wind slammed into the camper so hard I felt like I was turning. It wasn’t just me.

It was the entire camper turning. Slowly at first and then faster. My heart raced faster and faster under the sound of crunching metal. I held onto the wall and screamed just as the wall fell and met the ground. Then everything went black.

Finn I used to find the rain comforting. What wasn’t comforting was watching Sawyer run through it as it started to pour down from the sky. Not just because she looked like she was about to melt as the first drop hit her head or because she was running like she was escaping a pack of zombies, but because she’d left dressed in an uglier than hell long skirt and straight plain shirt and came back wearing something completely different. Something that showed off every single bit of what she’d been hiding under all that fabric. A tight black wife-beater style tank top showed off her spectacular perky and rounded tits—the ones that I’d been shocked to see were bigger than I’d guessed when I saw her in the shower—bouncing with each of her hurried steps. Short dark denim shorts revealed surprisingly toned calves and strong thighs leading up to a high and round ass that most women would get on their knees and pray every night to possess. To top it all off? Sexy as sin boots to the middle of her calf. Yeah, I was uncomfortable all right. Probably because I kept imagining those boots around my shoulders while I worshipped her pussy with my tongue and fingers. Fuck. I needed a damned drink. I’d just grabbed the neck of the bottle when I heard a noise in the distance. I thought I was imagining things or that it was the wind howling. I stilled my own breathing long enough so I could hear it again. There it was again and this time there was no mistaking it for the screaming wind. It was an actual scream. I ran to the door and ripped it open. A bolt of lightning hit a palm tree nearby, splitting the top of it down the middle like a broccoli spear. A gust of wind lifted the camper a few inches from the ground and tossed it onto its side. The screaming stopped. I pushed my way through the wall of pounding rain and wind, ducking under flying mud and debris. The window of the camper was underneath it now and the door on top. I

climbed up using the water tank as footing. “Sawyer!” I yelled. No answer. “Fuck,” I cursed at the locked door. I shuffled back a little and with one forceful kick, I managed to break the window of the door free from its frame. I made myself as small as I could and lowered myself down inside. Sawyer was nowhere to be seen. Debris was tossed all around the inside since the floor was now a wall. The mattress from the bed was leaning against the wall. I stepped over the cabinets and flipped the mattress up. Sure enough, there she was, unconscious. A trickle of blood staining her hairline on the right side of her forehead. I knew I shouldn’t move her but if another gust of wind came through she could be tossed around again and risk even further injury. The only problem was I couldn’t lift her out of the camper. The window was too small for us to both fit through at the same time. The wind whistled outside and reminded me that I had to try. I bent over and lifted her as gently as I could. Her limbs were limp, flapping over my arms. I did my best to support her neck as I climbed over the cabinets, adjusting her so I could unlock and push open the camper door above us. The rain soaked us through in seconds. I climbed out on my ass and swung my legs over to the side, dropping us down. I fell to my knees in order to take the severity of the impact, suddenly grateful for the soft wet mud. It felt like a fucking eternity to get her into the house but once inside I jogged to my bedroom and set her down on my bed as gingerly as I could. “Sawyer,” I said roughly, leaning above her. “Sawyer!” Sawyer moaned softly and stirred, but didn’t regain consciousness. Streams of pink tinted water dripped down her face. “Shit,” I cursed, trying to remember where the fuck I’d put my phone. I ran to the kitchen and opened drawer after drawer, emptying them of the contents and tossing them to the floor until I found my phone in the very last one. I powered it on and thankfully the screen came to life. I pushed the emergency button and within seconds a familiar voice answered the phone. “Outskirts 911,” Miller said. “What’s your emergency.” “Miller, it’s Finn.” I could feel his surprise on the other end of the line. “Finn, what are you…what the fuck is going on?” I walked back over to Sawyer who hadn’t so much as budged. I knelt down next to her and had no choice but to say my least favorite words in the English language. I tugged at my hair and lowered my voice. “I need your help.”

Chapter Eighteen SAWYER

T

he line between consciousness and unconsciousness was still a blur when I heard voices floating around above me.

“Wait, where are you going?” Finn asked. “The roads are flooded in and out of town. I’ve got to set up some barricades,” Josh answered. Josh is in Finn’s house? “What do I do?” Finn sounded frantic. Panicked even. “Just get her out of those wet clothes and keep her awake until Miller gets here.” Everything was still fuzzy around the edges until a hand grabbed me by my ankle. My eyes shot open to find Finn crouched beside me. His hair was wet, some of it had fallen forward and was matted against his temple and cheek. “I have to get you out of these wet clothes,” he said, reaching for the waistband of my shorts. “No!” I shouted, scrambling up the bed but not getting far. Finn climbed over my lap and caged me in with his muscular thighs. He stretched his arms, resting his hands on the wall above the headboard. “You don’t have a choice. You hit your head. Your clothes are soaked. They’re coming off.” Finn pinned me to the mattress with his determined glare. “No,” I repeated, trying to wiggle out from his grip. All I managed to do was sway an inch or two from side to side. The motion made my head swim. I closed my eyes tightly and suddenly felt the need to sleep. “Hey,” Finn shouted, snapping me back to the present. “You need to stay awake.” “I can do that,” I started. “I can also take my own clothes off,” I said. Finn considered me for a moment before easing up off me, giving me room to sit up slowly. “You have to leave the room,” I said, reaching for the hem of my shirt. The room started to spin around me, faster and faster until Finn’s arms were around me, holding me

upright. “Not a chance,” he growled. He sat me up and reached for the hem of my shirt. “Don’t look,” I managed to say. The cold material of my shirt clung to my skin, my teeth chattered as I spoke. Finn was right. My clothes needed to come off. “I can’t promise you that,” Finn said, slowly lifting my shirt to my shoulders. He pulled my elbows through the sleeves once it was around my neck. “I wish I could promise you that, but I can’t.” He lifted it over my head and it landed with a smack against the floor. He’d seen me naked before, but somehow standing in a shower and lying in a bed might as well have been two different planets because the embarrassment and uncertainty and rush of dizziness I was feeling couldn’t all have been from hitting my head. I covered my breasts with my arms and shut my eyes tightly as if I couldn’t see him looking at my naked body then it wasn’t happening. “Are you covering up because you’re embarrassed or because you don’t think I’ll like what I see?” Finn asked. He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t mocking. And when I opened my eyes to meet his, all I saw was sincerity and concern etched on his face. “Both,” I admitted, feeling my entire body turn red. Finn gently pushed against my shoulders so I’d lay back down against the pillow. It smelled like him. Clean and woodsy. He unbuttoned my shorts and hooked his fingers in the elastic of my panties. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, which had the opposite effect, making me squirm inside my skin. “Because you’re beautiful.” He wriggled the material over my hips and butt and tossed the wet garments on top of my shirt. “All of you is beautiful.” I glanced up at him to find Finn’s gaze was between my legs. “And I can assure you that I like what I see. Very much.” He cleared his throat. “Too much.” Finn’s words seemed to help me feel slightly more at ease. Well, his words and the blanket he covered me with. I turned to my side and he was quiet. So quiet I’d thought he’d left the room until the mattress dipped and cool air hit my backside from the blanket being lifted. “What are you doing?” I croaked, feeling panicked yet again. I glanced over to find Finn tossing his wet shorts to the floor. “Making sure you don’t fall asleep.” “You can’t do that from the other side of the room?” I asked, scooting as far over to the edge of the bed as I could. “With clothes on?” “Of course, I can,” Finn said; reaching out and grabbing me by the waist he dragged me backward across the bed until I was flush against his hard body. I don’t know if it was because it felt so good and I’d been so cold, or because of my head injury, but I found myself closing my eyes and momentarily enjoying the feeling of his warm skin. “But isn’t this better?”

His hard body against my softer one. Yes, yes it was. Finn snaked his hand around my hips, resting it on my lower stomach. A thought flashed through my muddled brain. My eyes sprang open. “You’re not…” I started. “Calm yourself. Unwilling girls aren’t really my thing,” Finn said, sounding offended. “It’s not like I would know that you weren’t trying to…” I stopped, not sure which word to use or even if I wanted to use one at all. “FUCK you,” he finished for me. “It’s not like you would know that I wasn’t trying to FUCK you.” “Yes. THAT.” “You wouldn’t have a single doubt in your mind if I really was trying to fuck you tonight.” “Oh,” I said, both relieved and disappointed. “Can I ask you a question?” “Sure,” Finn said, his breath warm against my neck. My nipples were hardened due to the curious sensations coursing through my body. “Is there a difference between beautiful and attractive?” Finn didn’t answer at first. I’d finally resolved that he’d decided to stop talking to me when he spoke. “Yes. But it can also be the same.” “How is that?” I asked, feeling his heartbeat speed up against my back. “There are two kinds of beauty. At least to me there are. The other day I saw an old woman on the side of the road selling mangos. She had silver hair and no teeth, but the biggest smile on her face. Her eyes were bright blue and lit up any time a customer stopped to buy a mango. I thought she was beautiful.” He traced slow lazy circles on my lower stomach and I shivered. Fin pulled the blanket up higher. “Better?” he asked. “Yes,” I replied, although my shiver wasn’t from being cold. “So what’s the second kind of beauty?” “The kind you can’t stop looking at no matter how hard you try.” Finn lowered his mouth so his lips moved against the tip of my ear when he spoke. “The kind you want to fuck.” I swallowed. “What does that kind of beauty look like?” I asked, breathlessly. Finn’s hand rose on my stomach until his fingers lightly grazed the underside of one of my breasts. “Right now it looks like freckled skin and gold flecked eyes.” I gasped. “Now it’s my turn to ask you a question,” Finn started. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.” “Where did you…” A bolt of lightning chose that moment to light up the window followed by thunder so loud it might as well have come from inside. I flinched and started to shake all over again. “I’m…I’m afraid of storms,” I admitted. “I guess after what happened tonight I should be.” Finn held me tighter. “It’s called Astraphobia,” he said, out of nowhere. “Wha…what?” I asked, opening my eyes and blinking rapidly when I realized he was shaking me. I must have drifted off. “Stay with me,” Finn said, his voice smoothing over my body like a healing salve. “Astraphobia is the fear of thunder and lightning. That’s what it’s called.” “How do you know that?” “Someone I used to know had it pretty bad,” Finn’s breath tickled my neck. “I used to tease her about it relentlessly, thinking she was just being a baby until I looked it up at the library and realized it was a real thing.” Another particularly brutal series of lightning strikes flashed like machine gun fire. Possessed by fear, I tried to leap from the bed, but Finn pulled me down and pinned me to the mattress. With a grunt, Finn flipped me around so I was facing him, and when I tried to pull away again he did the last thing I ever expected him to do. He kissed me.

Chapter Nineteen FINN

I

am so fucked.

Chapter Twenty SAWYER

K

issing was something I was told I would only ever do with my future husband once we were married. When I heard this the first time, I was a young child, and being married seemed like something so far off in the future that I filed both marriage and kissing away in my mind under a category called: THINGS SO FAR OFF IN THE FUTURE THEY AREN’T EVEN WORTH THINKING ABOUT NOW. Somehow, as I’d gotten older, I’d never quite retrieved it from the archives. Until Finn. So, there I was. Lying in his bed. Naked. Exposed. Vulnerable. It was almost as freeing as when I changed out of my modest clothes except a thousand times more frightening. More intriguing. More everything. Surrounded by the most delicious humming sensation. My heart pounding. My palms sweating. My brain not quite able to believe what was happening as his lips pressed against mine, then slightly parted before pressing again. Finn’s lips were soft and full, the scruff on his chin lightly scraped against my face. But that wasn’t all I was feeling. All sorts of new and confusing sparks were igniting everywhere inside me. Jolts of pleasure coursed to places around my body he wasn’t even touching, making me aware of those places, and then aware that I might want him to be touching them. Kissing before marriage was a sin punishable by eternal hellfire. On that day, with Finn’s lips on mine, I realized there was no truth to that lesson. It didn’t feel like hell. It felt magical and wondrous and beautiful. It was pure heaven. However, if I was wrong, and it turned out that kissing was punishable by an eternity at the devil’s side, then kissing Finn might just be worth the risk. It was as if the lightning had come inside the house and was buzzing between us.

Connecting us. Pulling us closer. At one point, Finn’s fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place as if to prevent me from coming any closer. We were both breathing heavily. Thunder boomed all around us, shaking the walls. I was still in shock from the kiss to react to the fear of the storm that was no match for this new kind of fear taking hold. “Why did you…?” I asked when he pulled back. “Distraction,” he explained, clearing his throat. “Distraction,” I repeated slowly. “Did you use that technique with your friend too?” “A lot of dogs have the fear of storms,” Finn explained, trying his first method of distraction again. Talking. “They sense them coming before people do and the pressure in the air makes some of them go nuts. They even sell these jackets on late night TV that you wrap around them so that they feel like they’re being hugged and comforted, although if that works then why not just give the dog a hug?” Finn’s hands left my hips and wrapped around my back, pressing my chest to his but keeping the lower half of our bodies separated. “Are you hugging me like a dog?” I asked curiously. Finn chuckled. “No. And just so you know, I don’t kiss dogs like that either.” Finn smelled like the rain and sweat and I inhaled deeply before being shaken awake again. “Did you know that Nascar racing started because drivers running moonshine needed to soup up their cars to run from the police through the mountains?” “No, I didn’t,” I said. “Finn?” “Yeah?” “What’s Nascar?” Finn brushed a wet hair from my forehead. His lips turned upward into a small smile that made my stomach flip. I could tell that he wanted to ask me how I didn’t know what it was, but he refrained. “Car racing,” he answered. “Oh, that makes sense.” A palm frond was slapped up against the window by the wind, once again sending my fear into overdrive and between the possible concussion and my fear of the storm I felt myself dipping back into that dark place. I closed my eyes tightly. Finn’s voice sounded like it was far off in the distance until he pushed me onto my back, covered my body with his and kissed me again. This time the kiss was anything but brief. It was slow, methodical, deep. Instead of being lost in the storm, I was lost in Finn’s kiss. And then I realized why he’d kept holding me at a distance from the waist down when something smooth, hard, and hot jutted up against my leg.

He was completely naked. “Why are you kissing me again?” I asked, feeling a surge of sensations rushing between my legs. I felt the overwhelming need to part them but Finn’s thighs were around mine, keeping them together. “Distraction,” he groaned against my lips, repeating his answer from earlier. His tongue parted my lips and when it connected with mine it opened up an entirely new level of kissing. I heard myself moan into his mouth. Finn responded by rocking his hardness against my thigh. I didn’t know what was happening, all I knew was what I felt and what I felt was confused and flustered and like I needed something. Finn. I needed more Finn. I lifted my hand and was about to feel Finn’s backside when there was a loud noise from the other room. A door slammed. “Finn, you in here?” I recognized the voice as Miller. Finn reached to the nightstand and grabbed a pair of sweatpants that he put on under the covers before getting off the bed and hopping up onto the small dresser on the other side of the small room. He placed a t-shirt over his lap to hide his arousal. His arousal…because of me. If I’d felt empowered from buying new clothes, I felt downright sinfully happy knowing I had that effect on Finn. By the time Miller appeared in the doorway wearing a dark blue EMT jacket, Finn looked completely unaffected. While I, on the other hand, was sure my face was red, my hair was mussed, and my painfully hardened nipples were so erect the blanket I was holding in front of my chest couldn’t cover them. “Hey, Sawyer, how goes it?” Miller asked, crouching next to me and unzipping his medical looking tote bag. “Storm finally let up a bit. Just a little rain now.” “Hey, Miller.” I returned his smile. “I didn’t know you were an EMT.” “I wear a lot of hats.” “You’re not wearing a hat,” I pointed out. He touched his bare head. “Touché, oh freckled one. Touché.” “You two know each other?” Finn asked, sounding irritated. “Yeah, we sure do. Didn’t you know? We’re in love,” Miller said, winking at me while he fitted my arm with a blood pressure cuff. “If Josh never comes to her senses and has all my babies, this one here is next in line,” he tapped the tip of my nose. “Now be a good girl and tell me where it hurts,” he wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

Finn growled and Miller mashed his lips together, making a face Finn couldn’t see. I couldn’t help but giggle, but when I did a pain exploded in my head. I rubbed my eyes. “Careful now,” Miller warned, checking my pulse. Miller took out a small flashlight and shined it in my eye. “I teach a pottery class on Wednesdays too if you’re interested plus, I am a professional medicinal herb distributor,” he said proudly. “What’s that?” I asked. “He sells weed,” Finn chimed in. After a few more minutes of checking me over Miller announced that he had both good news and bad news. “What?” Finn stood from the dresser. “The good news is,” Miller looked up to me. “You’ll be fine. Your pulse is a little high. My guess is that you have a mild concussion at the most. You can get your head scanned at the ER in Bellville if you want a second opinion.” “I think I’ll be all right,” I said, already feeling better. “What’s the bad news?” Finn came around to stand on the other side of the bed. Miller kept his eyes on me. “The bad news is that you’re in Finn Hollis’s bed when you should be in mine.” We both chuckled. I couldn’t say the same for Finn. Miller packed up and Finn walked him out, leaving the door open. They were talking in hushed tones by the door. Finn periodically glanced up and over to me and I found myself staring at his lips. The lips that had been on mine. I wondered if everyone’s first kiss felt that way. Like they were going to jump out of their skin because suddenly a simple touch wasn’t a touch anymore, but something that penetrated deep down beyond the surface. No wonder kissing was such a big deal. Because IT FELT like a big deal. Finn was a lot of things. Highly irritable. Exasperating. A complete storm of negativity. But he was also selfless when it came to rescuing me and great at distraction. So great in fact, that while he was kissing me, I’d almost forgotten that he hated me.

Chapter Twenty-One FINN

I

’ve met lot of girls in my life. A. Lot. Yet there was something so different, so distinctive about Sawyer.

I hadn’t slept. I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about her body and the way it fit perfectly against mine. She smelled like the lavender fields my grandfather used to own. She was fragile but strong as nails all at the same time. There was a strength in her fear. A determination I admired. And I’d kissed her. Twice. I’d wanted to do a lot more. Her lips. Fuck. Her beautiful pink lips against mine made me ache to taste more of her. All of her. Her slight hesitation and obvious inexperience only made me want to teach her. Show her things. The first time I kissed her, I told myself it was just supposed to be a distraction to ease her shaking. To keep her awake. The second time was for no other reason than because I couldn’t NOT kiss her again. When her body softened against mine, a caveman style surge of triumphant desire pumped through my veins. I had to resist this overwhelming need to claim her. Mark her. Make her mine. She’s not yours. She can never be yours. And it wasn’t just a need to take her body that I was fighting. It was a different kind of desire that made me pause. The desire to want to live. The connection between Sawyer and I was like this tangible thing around us. I’d never felt anything like it.

Not even with Jackie. Jackie. Then came the inevitable guilt that usually twisted my gut until I felt real physical pain at the thought of moving on without her. Most of the time it was paralyzing, but in bed with Sawyer it wasn’t screaming in my ear as it usually did. Instead, it was merely a whisper in the background. Josh had said Sawyer had been through a lot. I didn’t know what, but the way she acted like I was going to hurt her in her camper that first night gave me a good idea. Yet, Sawyer was still out there doing all she could to have a life. In a strange town. With strange people. All alone. And then there was me. Doing all I could to throw my life away and forget I ever had one.

Chapter Twenty-Two SAWYER

W

hen I woke up in Finn’s bed the morning’s first light had yet to make an appearance.

I’m alone? My lips were still swollen from Finn’s kisses. It was the only way I knew what had happened was real. My stomach flipped. My mind raced. I sat up slowly, holding the sheet over my breasts, tucking it under my arms. Finn’s room was small, just large enough for the simple queen-sized bed and a tiny dresser. The sheets were navy blue and soft and so was the matching blanket. There was no closet, just a stack of folded clothes, mostly jeans and undershirts on the floor next to the dresser. Thin strips of white slatted wood made up the walls, running horizontally around the room. Some of the strips were broken in places. Some were missing completely exposing the sheets of wood separating the inside of the house from the outside. I got up slowly, taking the sheet with me, waiting for a moment before attempting to take a step. No pain. No dizziness. I grabbed one of his shirts from the pile and tugged it on. It was huge, covering my thighs completely. The coffee table had an empty whiskey bottle laying on its side. The walls were the same slatted wood as in the bedroom which was the only bedroom from what I could see. A small three cushion sofa sat in the middle of the room. There was no TV, but in the corner, was a stack of well-read paperbacks right next to a shotgun and a tall fishing pole leaning up against the wall. There wasn’t a single picture or knick-knack to be found. Nothing personal at all. The old hard wood floors were stain and polish free. They creaked as I stepped over them through the tiny kitchen that could barely be classified as a kitchen with only a two-burner

stove and a mini fridge on top of a base of cabinets with no doors and a few drawers. A single shelf lined the wall above and the only thing it held was dust. Unlike my camper which was… My camper! I sprinted to the front door and ripped it open. The sun had just peeked above the tops of the trees, a big beam of its first rays illuminated the pile of twisted metal that used to be my home. “No!” I darted across the lawn and slid to a stop before I crashed right into it. All around the camper was everything I owned. My new clothes which I hastily gathered in my arms. My mother’s box which was now empty. I scanned the surrounding area. Most of the contents were floating in puddles. My heart sank. I dropped to my knees and lifted the note my mother had given me. The ink dripped down the page along with the last words my mother ever had for me. My necklace! I’d taken off the sunflower pendant she’d given me. I crawled around the grass and mud on my hands and knees until something in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I got to my feet and picked it up. It was a picture. One I’d never seen before. I stumbled over to Rusty, my glorified lawn ornament, and got inside. I shut the door and held the picture in front of me. The photo was of my mother when she was about my age. She was standing in front of Rusty and Blue with a big smile on her face wearing jeans and a mid-riff bearing yellow tank top. 1995 was written on the back of the picture, the year before I was born. Underneath it was a repetitive watermark for OUTSKIRTS PHOTO-MAT. Mother HAD been in Outskirts after all. Before I was born. How was all this possible? The picture was also proof that Rusty and Blue weren’t just bought for me recently and stored away in secret. She’d owned them for over twenty years. Looking at that picture was like looking into the life of a total stranger. It left me with almost no answers and a thousand more questions. The entire ordeal went from frustrating to infuriating in the tick of the clock. Mother had kept so much from me and by the looks of things she’d also kept me from so much. Maybe she thought that somehow living in her camper, driving her truck, would help me feel closer to the real her, but the only thing I ended up feeling, sitting in the driver’s seat of Rusty, one of her many decade’s old secrets, was furious. How could I feel close to her? I never even knew her. The person in the picture was someone I never knew. That woman looked happy. Adventurous even. The woman I knew was frail. Weak. A doormat who never stood up to my father or the church.

Not for herself. Not even for me. “Why didn’t you just leave him?” I asked out loud to my smiling mother in the picture as the anger started boiling in my gut until it bubbled over and I found myself shouting at her. “Why didn’t you just leave him?” I repeated, tearing the picture in a thousand little pieces and throwing them out the window. “You fucking coward!” I screamed, pounding on the steering wheel. My throat tightened and a heaviness grew in my chest like my heart didn’t know whether to beat faster or stop beating altogether. “Did you leave me all this to show me the life you could’ve had, but didn’t? Why!?” I pounded the wheel again and then again, and again and again until my vision was blurry and all I could see was the redness of my own heated rage. “You’re a fucking coward! You fucking COWARD!” I pounded the wheel until the skin across my knuckles split and blood dripped between my fingers. Strong hands bit into my biceps, yanking me from the cab. I was spun around by my shoulders and found myself face to face with Finn. “I like it when you swear,” he said, pressing closer. “Finn, get off me! Get off me! Let me go!” I wailed, struggling to free myself from his grip. Kicking out my legs only to connect with the air as he evaded my every move. A growl tore from his throat. Finn picked me up and walked me to the back of the truck, setting me on the open tailgate. He pushed himself between my legs and hovered over me to keep me from leaping off. “Let me go,” I demanded, pushing at his hard chest. “I don’t have time for your broodiness right now.” Finn held my wrists together with one hand. “No, of course you don’t. You’re too busy tearing up pictures and screaming at no one.” “Let me go,” I repeated. “No,” he said between clenched teeth. “Just go! Leave me alone. Leave meeeeeee!” I wailed as I pounded against his stone chest. “You don’t want to hit me,” he warned, his eyes hardened. “Then let me go.” “Why?” He stepped in closer, unaffected by my attempt to fight against him. My inner thighs were touching his outer thighs. “Because she did!” I screamed, my eyes sprang open to find his cold blue gaze. “She could have run anywhere and taken me with her. Instead she left him but she left me too. She was a coward who couldn’t make the right decision and I love her. I love her…but I hate her. I hate her so much…so…” I was interrupted when Finn’s lips pressed against mine, momentarily rendering me stupid. I pointed my toes toward the sky to avoid my initial instinct which was to wrap my legs around him. It was so consuming that I momentarily forgot to fight him off, but I didn’t need to, he pulled his lips from mine.

“Stop doing that,” I said. I pushed him off but he stayed between my legs, his hands on my bare back just under the hem of his big t-shirt I was wearing. His gaze hardened. I could see the conflict written in his lined forehead and the deep V between his eyes. I had no doubt the conflict had everything to do with me. And kissing me. “It’s your fault that I do it,” Finn said, his voice deep and smooth against my chin and then my neck. “So that’s your plan? Kiss me every time you want to shut me up?” I asked, still feeling every bit of my anger but also feeling something else. Something that sent tingles between my legs and an ache in my core. “Thank you for saving me. Really. Thank you. I appreciate it,” my voice cracked. “But you can just leave me alone now. And please, STOP kissing me,” I said in almost a whisper. “I’m going to kiss you whenever I want to kiss you,” Finn stated as if I didn’t have a say in the matter. The early morning sunlight highlighted the beads of sweat trickling from his shoulders down Finn’s broad chest and across the valleys of his defined abs. He was standing so close that we were breathing in each other’s air. “Whenever you want to kiss me?” I laughed. “I don’t understand you. I don’t understand any of this. You’re always mad at me. Why did you save me? Why do you keep kissing me when you’re always mad at me?” “It’s when I’m pissed off at you that I want to kiss you the most,” Finn said, his voice flowing over my skin like a silky blanket. He slid me closer so I could feel the outline of his rigid erection as if he were proving a point. He lowered his lips to mine and consumed my mouth in a greedy kiss that had me shaking with need and spinning with confusion. “Do you always kiss everyone you hate?” I asked, yanking my lips from his. “Does this feel like hate to you?” he growled looking between us as if he could see the connection there. His nostrils flared. He pulled me flush against him so I could feel every bit of him. Almost like he was showing me how it could feel if only it weren’t for our clothes between us. “I know what it feels like to be hated,” I assured him as he brushed his lips over my jaw and licked his way around to my neck, stopping to suck the sensitive spot behind my ear. I didn’t have on anything underneath his oversized shirt that hung off my one shoulder and I knew if I moved he’d be able to see the evidence of how he affected me soaked through the light cotton fabric. “What exactly does that mean?” he pulled back again, staring daggers into my eyes. “What happened to you?” “Nothing. Forget about it,” I answered, regretting my sudden overshare and wishing I could take it back.

“Sawyer. Tell me. Who hurt you?” he growled. From the murderous look in his eyes, I knew there was no way he was going to let this go. “My father was very involved in the church and the church believed that women were secondary to men. Dad took that very literally. Mom and I were both second class citizens in our own home. He treated us both like children who needed to be disciplined on a daily basis. The more he drank…the worse the discipline became.” “He hurt you,” Finn confirmed, softly rubbing the pad of his thumb under my eye. “How could he hurt YOU?” he whispered. The softness of his voice melted around me, wrapping me in its soothing warmth. “Not just me. My mom. Well, mostly my mom.” I looked over at my mangled camper. “It was always worse during a storm. The sound of the thunder outside masked what was really going on inside.” “That’s why…” Finn said, his voice trailing off as he registered the reason for my freak out last night. “Yeah, that’s why.” I pointed to the wreckage. “They can be quite destructive.” I looked to Finn. “But not quite as destructive as my father.” Finn threaded his fingers through my hair and held the back of my head as if he was afraid I was going to pull away. “Who were you yelling about before? Who left you?” he asked, searching my eyes for answers. I evaded his eyes but he held me by the back of my head. “Who left you?” he asked again, tugging slightly. “My mother,” I answered on an exhale, feeling the anger bubbling to the surface all over again. As if he could sense my shifting emotions, Finn kissed me again and I was lost in the sensation of his skilled lips. His hand snaked its way under the hem of my shirt and slid up my torso, his fingertips grazing the underside of my breasts. My breath hitched. My nipples tightened. Like a reflex, I tightened my thighs around Finn’s legs, pulling him closer. “What are you doing?” I gasped. “Talking,” Finn groaned against my neck. “Your mother left you. When?” “A few weeks ago. She…she died.” I was practically growling. I’d never been so angry before. Angry about my mother. Angry that I was feeling things toward Finn that both confused and amazed me. Finn went to kiss me again and I bit at him before he could come too close, my teeth clanking in the air. He chuckled and pressed his lips to mine anyway, sucking my bottom lip. I bit down and instantly tasted his blood, coppery and sweet on my tongue. Finn pulled back and the rage I expected wasn’t there. Instead he snaked out his tongue, licking the drop of blood from his lip, keeping his eyes trained on me the entire time. “How did she die?” he asked, leaning forward and brushing his lips against the crook of my neck. He rocked against my bare opening with his hardness. When he left me in bed he’d gotten partially dressed, only the thin fabric of his boxer briefs between us.

My eyes rolled back in my head with a pleasure that jolted into me so hard I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I was downright dizzy. “How,” Finn repeated against my skin. “She…she killed herself,” I managed to finally answer, hissing the unwanted truth through my teeth. Finn froze. I took advantage of his momentary pause and pushed against his chest one last time. He faltered, taking a half step back, giving me enough space to jump from the tailgate and run. Finn didn’t give chase. Probably because he knew something I’d realized far too late. I had nowhere to go.

Chapter Twenty-Three FINN

S

he killed herself.

I should have gone after Sawyer but her words were like a stake to my heart, freezing me in place. When I finally snapped out of it, she was gone. Shit. Sawyer had just suffered a concussion for fuck’s sake and now she was wandering around in yet another afternoon storm when the one the night before almost killed her. Florida weather was unpredictable at best. The schizophrenic rain certainly wasn’t helping me find Sawyer any faster. After searching the house and porch, I jogged over to her truck and yanked open the door. Nothing. Besides the yard, the swamp, or possibly hiding in the brush somewhere, there weren’t many other places she could be. She could have hit her head and fallen into the water. Encounters with snakes, wild hogs, panthers, bobcats, or alligators. Fuck, the animal didn’t even have to be scary. The wrong mosquito bite could mean the end. I made it around the house and immediately my eyes locked on my boat, teetering back and forth in the water as the rain created a wake where there usually wasn’t one. Making my way over as fast as I could, I yanked the covering from the top and there she was. I exhaled. Soaking wet. Shaking. Holding her knees to her chest on the floor of the boat. Her teeth chattering louder than the rain splashing all around us. She didn’t react when I lifted her into my arms. I cradled her shivering body against my chest and carried her up to the porch. She still said nothing when I turned on the shower, stripped us both of our wet clothes and held her under the hot spray until I felt the trembling leave her body and her chattering stop.

I wrapped her in a clean towel, picked her up again and carried her to my room where we both got in bed and I tucked her warm naked body against mine. There wasn’t much I could offer Sawyer, but what I could give her was distraction. I talked nonsense to her about everything and anything until she fell asleep. The rain stopped completely. The wind chimes on the porch sounded. The ones Jackie had made for our new house when we’d moved in together. It was the only possession of hers I’d taken with me to the swamp. At first, they played just a sporadic note or two until it became a full-on symphony. The music floated through the now eerily still night. Not a cricket could be heard. Not a frog croaked. Not a mosquito buzzed. For hours it was just me, lying there wide awake with Sawyer in my arms while the chimes relentlessly reminded me of a past that no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be able to forget.

Chapter Twenty-Four SAWYER

s it true that your RV got mangled by a twister?” Kayla asked, popping her gum and “I sticking a pen into the messy bun on top of her head. It had been over a week since I’d seen Finn. I’d woken up alone the next morning and soon after, Josh had stopped by to check on me. I’d been sleeping on the couch in her apartment ever since. I’d gone back over to the swamp shack to thank Finn for saving me. Twice. But both times there was no sign of him. The only reason I knew he’d been around at all was the blue tarp that had been placed over my wrecked camper. “I don’t know if it was a tornado for sure, but something got it in the storm,” I said as I felt my heart sinking. “Were you in it when it happened?” Maya asked, appearing with a tray of drinks in hand raised above her head. “Yes, but luckily Finn pulled me out.” If on cue, the band chose that very moment to stop playing. Kayla and Maya gasped in unison. “He did what?” Missy asked in a whisper, over pouring a shot of whiskey. Amber liquid spilled over the rim of the shot glass and pooled on the bar. “Shit,” she swore. “Ladies?” Critter raised his eyebrows at the girls who reluctantly picked up their trays and headed back to wait on their tables. “Thanks,” I said, grateful to be out from under their scrutiny although I was sure I hadn’t heard the end of it. “Finn, you say?” Critter asked, flipping a rag over his shoulder. “Haven’t seen that boy around in a while.” I tried to sound casual. “How do you know Finn?” “Told you. I know everything and everyone. Finn’s a good kid, but he ain’t been around in a long time.”

“Why did he stop coming around?” I asked, washing my hands in the sink. “That’s not for me to say.” Critter smacked the register and it sprang open. “I’m not one to go around telling other people’s stories.” “So what you’re saying is that you don’t know?” I teased. “That’s not it. I told you. I know everything and everyone.” Suddenly I wished I hadn’t torn the picture of my mother into bits and pieces. Critter had told me when we first met that he didn’t know her, but it was a long time ago. Maybe the picture would’ve jogged his memory. “Finn giving you any kind of trouble?” Critter asked. Wrinkles formed on top of his wrinkles as a worried expression crossed over his face. “Not really,” I answered. Not the kind that Critter could fix anyway. “You let me know if I need to kick that boy’s ass for you. I may be getting on in years, but I’ve got some fight left in me for punks like that.” Critter adjusted his belt. “I thought you just said he was a good guy?” “Good guys,” he wagged his pointer finger, “those are the worst kind of punks.” “Let me ask you something, Critter,” I started, arranging napkins into the little plastic holders clipped to the inner edge of the bar. “Do you think people can change?” Critter paused and licked at the corner of his mustache. “Well, I think people can do just about anything they damn well want, including change. My mama used to tell me that we’ve all got the devil in us, some just got it buried deeper, while others take direction from it. If that helps any.” I looked up at the tings on the ceiling. Every time the front door opened they danced and twirled together. “I don’t know if it does just yet.” “You’re something else, kid,” Critter leaned in and whispered, “and you can quote me on that.” The door opened again, the tings clapped together as Josh and Miller burst through the front door, squawking at one another like seagulls on the beach fighting over breadcrumbs.

“IT’S NOT POLITE TO EAVESDROP,” Critter nudged me on the shoulder. “Eavesdropping would mean that it would take some effort on my part to get closer so I could listen in.” I pointed to Josh and Miller who’d been talking and arguing back and forth LOUDLY for hours. “That’s what I told you the first time,” Miller groaned. “That is not what you said,” Josh waved her finger in his face. I smiled up at Critter. “I don’t think it’s eavesdropping if they’re talking loud enough that I can hear them from all the way over here.”

“Noted,” Critter replied with a laugh and a tip of his chin. “Josh, baby, when are you going to get that pretty head out of Vaginaville and let me introduce you to Cocktown again?” Miller asked, at a volume slightly above the guitar player in the corner. “I dated one girl. ONE. And it was six years ago. You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?” Josh jabbed a finger into Miller’s chest. “No, and I hope I never forget it either. Actually, I think about it all the time.” Miller closed his eyes. “In fact, I’m thinking about the two of you together right now.” Josh smacked him with her menu. Miller didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy staring at her chest. “And I believe it was your introduction to Cocktown,” she glanced down toward his crotch and scrunched up her face in disgust, “that turned me off of men to begin with.” Miller stuck his bottom lip out in a pout but rebounded quickly. “Best two out of three?” “By the way, how’s your mom, Miller?” Josh asked, slyly, pausing to take a slow sip of her beer. “She still wiping your ass for you?” Miller held his hand over his heart. “That really hurts, Josh. First of all, you know that my mom is a lovely lady who makes amazing pot roast. It’s not my fault she needs me to live with her so I can taste test it for her. It’s a rough job, but I’m willing to make that sacrifice.” “Speaking of jobs,” Josh said, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you have to be at yours?” It was Miller’s turn to roll his eyes. “No one was speaking of jobs, Josh. No one. And just because I refuse to conform to modern day slavery hours, doesn’t make me any less of a person.” He smiled. “However, upon your visit to Cocktown, all of your racist ways will be forgiven.” “Sure, I’ll visit Cocktown.” She winked at Miller whose mouth dropped open. “Just not yours.” “That hurts, Josh. It hurts a lot.” “I’m going to the ladies,” Josh announced, sliding off her stool. “Don’t follow me.” “That’s bullshit and you know it!” Miller shouted after her. “Guess that didn’t go so well,” I commented, replacing his empty beer with a fresh one. Miller frowned. “Huh? Why would you say that?” “Never mind.” I left Miller to live in his own alternate reality while I restocked the napkins. “Sawyer!” Sterling called over with a bright smile. “When do you get off?” He was standing at the end of the bar with a piece of paper from the ting bucket in hand.

“In about ten minutes,” I answered. “Want to take that walk with me?” I thought it over for a moment before answering. “Sure, just let me finish up and I’ll meet you out front.” Sterling smiled and scribbled something down on the paper before hanging it next to the one he’d hung on the day he declared us friends. Taking a walk with a beautiful girl. -Sterling “He’s so hot,” Kayla said, waving with her fingers at Sterling. “I could eat him for breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” Maya joined in, biting at the air and growling. When he waved back the two girls giggled and whispered between them. Sterling winked at me. I should’ve been excited. Or at the very least as excited as the girls were to get a little wave from Sterling. Suddenly I needed some air. I gathered the trash from the bar as an excuse to go outside. I pushed open the back door and had only gotten a few steps when footsteps sounded behind me. “Do you even realize how fucking beautiful you are?” I slowly turned around to find Finn standing by the back door, leaning against the doorframe, holding a small brown-paper-wrapped package in the crook of his arm. He stubbed out a cigarette on the bottom of his boot. My palms began to sweat. My skin tingled. Everything inside me came alive. Panic. Fear. Anticipation. LUST. I tossed another bag into the dumpster and turned back around to face him. “I came by to see you. To say thank you. You weren’t there.” “I left town for a while. Had to tie up some loose ends.” Finn raked his gaze up and down my body. “I never got a chance to tell you. I like the boots.” My heart raced. His words were like a stroke of his strong fingers between my legs. “I brought something for you,” he said, meeting me in the middle of the alley between the dumpster and the back door of Critter’s. “You don’t need to bring me anything.” I tried to pass him to get through the door but he stopped me. “You don’t owe me anything, Finn. You can go back to hiding in the woods. It’s obvious you don’t want to be my friend so let’s not force it. We don’t have to be friends.” “I don’t want to be your friend,” he said, taking a step forward.

“Then why are you here?” “I missed you,” he said, gazing deeply into my eyes. I tried to look away but Finn grabbed my chin and turned my head back so I was facing him. “Then why did you leave?” I asked, unable to hide the hurt in my voice. “After everything. I woke up and you were just gone.” Finn searched my face like he was searching for answers he didn’t have. “I’ve never met anyone like you. I’ve never even seen anyone like you. These freckles,” he ran the pad of his thumb underneath my eyes. “This mouth,” he did the same over my lower lip, brushing his own lips over mine slowly and gently until I found myself shifting under all the sensations swarming inside of me. “You make me want things, Say. Crave things. Things I haven’t thought about in a long time.” Say? I wanted to hate the nickname. I wanted to tell him that it was stupid and to never say it again, but I couldn’t. I repeated it again over and over in my head using his voice and I couldn’t help it. I loved it. My body hummed. It was getting harder and harder to appear unaffected. “Crave? You make me sound like a meal.” “That would make sense.” Finn pushed his fingers up into my hair and pulled just enough for my scalp to sting. “Because my mouth is watering to taste you,” he pressed his lips against mine and this time there was no storm to blame or anything else he needed to distract me from. “I want you, Say. So fucking much. More than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone before.” He took a deep breath like he was breathing me in. “You terrify me.” I felt warm all over. “Well, I did bite you,” I said. Finn smiled. Feeling brave, I reached up and touched the corner of his mouth where I’d made him bleed. There was no evidence of the injury but it was as if I could still see it there. Finn growled and tugged me against him, lowering his lips to mine, parting them with his tongue. When our tongues touched I shuddered. I raised up on my tip toes and wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening our kiss. Our connection. Needing to be closer. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” I breathed as his lips left mine and trailed down my neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Finn grinned against my tingling skin. “Neither do I.” His words send a rush straight between my legs. He continued to kiss and lick his way around my neck and ear, palming my breast through my t-shirt with his big hand. A nervous excitement took over. I trembled with fear and anticipation. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” Finn groaned, rocking against me. His hand fell from my hair and wrapped around my waist, trailing down to knead my butt cheek through my shorts and then lower, reaching up into my shorts and taking another handful. I moaned at the

contact. His skin against mine. I wanted more. I rocked against him to try and ease the ache growing in my lower belly. He gripped me hard, holding me still. “Don’t do that,” he warned with a groan. “It feels too fucking good for you to be doing that.” He playfully pushed against me until I staggered back and connected with the corner. He followed me and caged me in with his hands next to my head on the wall. My breathing was erratic. Finn’s pupils were dilated as he reached down and popped the top button of my shorts. “Tell me you want me, Say.” The back door swung open. “You need a hand?” Critter called out. Finn released me. “No, I got it,” I said, breathlessly. I turned back around to where Finn was just standing, but he was already gone. I was righting my apron just as Critter stepped outside. “You sure? You sound a little winded, kid,” he asked, eyeing me skeptically. “I’m sure,” I reassured him. “The bags were just heavier than I thought.” I ducked under Critter’s arm and when I came face to face with a picture of a younger looking Finn with his arm around a beautiful blonde hanging in the back hallway I paused. “Who is this with Finn?” I asked. “That’s Jackie,” Critter said. “Unfortunately, she’s no longer with us.” “What happened to her?” “How did I know you were going to ask that?” Critter teased. “Not my…” I finished his sentence for him, “story to tell. I know.” I leaned in closer to get a better look at the picture. Finn was smiling from ear to ear. I’d never seen him smile like that before. “The lord’s lady,” I whispered to myself. “What was that?” Critter asked. “Nothing.” I grabbed two more bags and hauled them back outside. Maybe it was for the best that Critter had interrupted us because I was just about to tell Finn that I wanted him too. But when I saw the picture of him and Jackie, reality washed me over the head like a bucket of cold water. I didn’t know the details, but it was stupid to give myself over to Finn when he clearly had already given himself to someone else. Someone who even in death still had a hold over him he couldn’t shake. I grabbed another set of trash bags and went out back, hoisting them into the dumpster. When I turned around, I noticed the package Finn had been carrying was sitting on top of

a metal trash can by the door. In my fumbled attempt to pick it up, I dropped it on the ground. I knelt down and tore a strip of the brown wrapping off, revealing a book. The title was only partially visible, but I didn’t need to see the entire thing to know exactly what it said. I ripped the rest of the packaging off and ran my fingers over the cover. Each raised letter I felt was somehow making it harder and harder to breathe. When I got to the end, I read the title out loud to myself. “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.”

Chapter Twenty-Five SAWYER

inn called me last night,” Josh announced, handing me a big mug of coffee with a “F cartoon policeman on the side peeing off the top of a bridge. It was seven in the morning. After my shift, I’d told Sterling I’d walk with him another time and took Josh up on her offer to drive me back to her place. “He did?” I asked, perking up at the sound of his name. “He called me to ask about you. He wanted to make sure you were staying with me and that you were okay.” “And what did you tell him?” I asked, looking into my mug. “I told him you were fine.” Josh set down her mug and put a hand on her hip. “What’s going on with you two?” “What do you mean?” I took a sip of coffee and immediately spit the thick bitter mud back into the mug when Josh turned her back. “I mean you two, as in Finn and Sawyer. That man hasn’t called me in two years. TWO FUCKING YEARS. And I was his best friend. Then you roll into town and suddenly he remembers my number?” Josh shook her head. “Something about this don’t add up.” “Maybe he just wanted to make sure I didn’t plan on staying at his place again,” I offered, knowing that wasn’t the case. “Nooo,” Josh sang, cocking her head to the side. She tossed me a pastry. Some sort of donut wrapped in sugar and cinnamon. “I don’t think that was it.” All thoughts of Finn were momentarily smashed from my mind. “Holy hell that’s good,” I said with a mouth full of pastry deliciousness. “Ha,” Josh laughed. “I like it when you swear.” That’s exactly what Finn had said. “Let me ask you this.” Josh leaned on her elbows against the counter. Her fluffy pink robe opening at the neck to expose a t-shirt that read MILLER SUCKS. “I know for a fact that the swamp shack only has one bedroom and one bed. After Miller checked on you the other night, where did Finn sleep?”

“On the couch,” I replied, the lie getting stuck on my tongue on the way out. Since I was terrible at lying, I switched to avoidance. I lifted my bag and started rummaging around with the contents like I was looking for something. “Uh huh,” Josh said. “Sure, he did.” “So, not to change the subject,” I started. “But changing the subject,” Josh interrupted. “What’s the deal with you and Miller?” I pointed to her shirt. Josh tightened her robe. “I told you. He’s just Miller…” she poured herself another cup of mud-coffee. “That doesn’t exactly answer the question.” “Neither does your liiiieeee,” Josh sang. She looked me dead in the eye and we both burst out laughing until tears pooled in her eyes and my ribs ached and cheeks burned. For the first time in my life, I’d laughed until it hurt.

Chapter Twenty-Six SAWYER

I

t was only eight and my shift didn’t start until noon. When I left Josh’s I decided that a walk around my new town was in order. I’d been an Outskirts resident for a while and had barely gone anywhere besides work and home. And home was no longer an option. I ignored the pain in my gut. I didn’t want to spend the morning dwelling on what no longer was but on the possibilities the day might bring. When I came across a junkyard I was about to pass right by it, not giving it too much thought, when something caught my eye. I pushed open the metal gate which had a sign on it that read LET YOURSELF IN. I passed a mound of tires and rows upon rows of kitchen sinks, making a beeline right for my target on the far side of the yard. When I reached it, I sighed and butterflies danced in my stomach. It was even prettier in person. It was a house. And not just ANY house. It was the house. The one from the billboard in town. Same white siding, blue shutters, and grey shingles. The biggest difference was that the one in front of me was split in half right down the center. The right half sat lopsided on the ground and contained the red front door. The left half remained upright, leaning against a rusted tanker truck. A flimsy sheet of plastic was stapled over the contents, but it was torn just enough so I could see inside. “The door was unlocked,” a deep and very familiar voice said. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as the words licked across my skin like a cool breeze. “What door?” Finn stepped up so close behind me I could feel the heat radiating from his chest to my back and I resisted the temptation to lean back into him. “My front door,” he said. “I left it open for you last night.” His breath tickled my neck. “You weren’t there when I got home.” “Should I have been?” “Yes.”

I felt heated in a way that even the ninety-degree weather couldn’t make me feel. “I’ve been staying at Josh’s.” “So I heard.” Finn stepped beside me and I got a good glimpse of his tight white t-shirt over his muscles. The stubble on his jaw made me remember how it felt against my skin when he kissed me. My neck. He glanced over and caught me staring. “You like what you see?” “Yes,” my answer was immediate. Finn chuckled and placed his hand on my head, turning me back to face the house, the entire reason why I was even in the junkyard, to begin with. I mentally prepared myself for some sort of snarky comment or for him to say something to make me feel more embarrassed than I already was, but luckily, it never came. “It’s not very big,” he said instead, taking in the house. “Neither am I.” I sighed with relief. “It’s perfect.” Finn walked up to it and tugged on the plastic covering of the upright side until it gave and fell to the ground. “Wait, can you do that?” I asked in a screamed whisper, looking around for anyone who could be watching. “It’s a junkyard. They don’t care if you break it. It’s already broken,” Finn pointed out. I was too short to step up into the house like Finn had done. “Here,” he held out his hand. I reached for it and he pulled me up and against him, holding me for a beat too long before finally releasing me. He smelled like cigarettes and soap. On the inside, I was ecstatic to find that it was ten times the size of my camper, although still pretty small. “How big do you think it is?” I asked. “Both halves together?” he asked. “Probably around eight hundred square feet. Give or take.” There was no flooring, just wood boards. “The sellers of these things usually waited to get a buyer before they put down the floors. That way whoever was buying it could choose their own,” Finn explained like he was reading my mind. The walls were real drywall. It had windows with white trim and marble windowsills. In the kitchen was a table style island and a big white farm sink with matching white cabinets and grey and white marbled counters. “Wow,” I said, admiring my surroundings. There was a bedroom in the back big enough for a king size bed and an attached bathroom. “You really like this thing?” Finn asked. “No, I don’t like it.” I looked around. “I love it.” I held out my arms and spun in a circle. I was drunk on the possibility that I could somehow make the house mine. “It’s like a mini version of the house I saw when I first came in. That one was three stories with a picket fence. It looked like the kind of house where people could laugh.” I turned to Finn. “Where kids are tucked into their beds at night and read bedtime stories. Where family meals are full of laughter and jokes and plans for the weekend instead of a run down of

what you did wrong that day and how God wasn’t happy with girls who didn’t obey his every command. Who showed too much skin. Who wanted to go to a real school instead of being home-schooled.” I stopped when I realized I’d gone off on a tangent. Finn was watching me curiously. “And you didn’t have that growing up,” Finn said. It wasn’t a question. I shook my head and ran my hand over the counter. “No. Did you?” I expected him to avoid the question or change the subject but he surprised me when he said. “I had that. My mom and dad were there for every baseball and football game. My mom was the loudest in the stands and I used to be so embarrassed,” he chuckled while recalling the memory, running his hand over the stubble on his chin. “And now I think how lucky I was to have the loudest mom in the stands.” “Where are your parents now?” “Georgia mountains. Mom and Dad always talked about having white Christmases so the second I graduated high school they followed their dream.” “And you stayed? Why?” I asked. “Because I belong here,” Finn answered simply. “This is home.” “Josh said you moved out to the swamp a few years back. Where did you live before?” I didn’t look at him when I asked but I could see his entire body stiffen out of the corner of my eye. This time he did evade the question. Well, not so much evade as didn’t even attempt to answer. “Come on. Let’s go see the other side.” Finn came over to me and lifted me up by the waist, setting me down a few feet on the ground below. He followed me down in one easy hop that he made look effortless with his long legs and confident movements. He grabbed my hand and led me over to the other half of the house. He tore down the plastic like he’d done on the other side. When he released my hand, he kept his pressed lightly on the small of my back. When we entered, I was surprised to find another bedroom, a small alcove with a builtin desk, and another bathroom, this one accessible from the main living space, which would be substantial in size if the two pieces were put together. “Why is it in half?” I asked, running my hand over the dusty walls as I walked from room to room. “It’s a park model,” Finn explained, following me but staying a few steps behind. “Park model?” I scrunched my nose. I’d never heard the term before. “So, it’s not a real house?” “It’s a real house all right. It’s just constructed off site, probably in a warehouse somewhere, instead of being built directly on the land. Same destination, just two different kinds of journeys to get there,” Finn said as he watched me admire the built-in laundry room off the back bedroom. “It’s delivered to the site in two parts because it’s too big to fit on a flatbed in one piece without blocking the highway.” “So it CAN be put back together then?” Excitement was growing inside of me. My

wheels were turning. “It can.” Finn’s lips turned upward in a crooked smile that made my mouth water. There were no appliances and everything inside and out was beyond dusty. I had no idea how long the house had been sitting there, but it was long enough for some of the laminate on the cabinets to start peeling in the corners. But it was salvageable. I glanced back to Finn and clasped my hands together. I hadn’t even realized I was smiling until he came up to me and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile,” he said; his words and touch were surprisingly soft and tender. I craned my neck. “Thank you again for rescuing me the other night.” Finn took a step back against the wall but tugged me against him so that my chest was pressed to his torso and his knee was between my legs. “Thank you for rescuing me,” he said, lowering his lips to mine. We’d barely touched when a voice broke the spell, sliding between us and breaking us apart. “Who’s out there?” a man called out. I stepped out to find Sterling coming our way. A huge dimpled smile across his clean-shaven face. “Sawyer is that you?” “It’s me. Hi, Sterling.” I gave him a small wave. “Here, let me help you down from there,” Sterling offered, grabbing my hands and lifting me to the ground. Finn muttered something under his breath and followed me down. “Finn?” Sterling asked, seemingly confused. “Wow, I didn’t see you back there.” Sterling pointed from me to Finn. “Are you…with him?” he asked hesitantly. I didn’t know if he was asking if we were there together or THERE together but either way the answer was no. I shook my head at the same time Finn said, “Yes.” He stared Sterling down as if he’d offended him in the worst of ways. Sterling cleared his throat and turned back to me. “I saw you admiring the park model. Did you know it was the one from the billboard?” he asked, smiling even bigger than before. “They used it for the ad. Never built a single one except this one before the bubble burst though. It’s been here ever since.” “Do you work here?” I asked. “I thought you said you owned the feed store?” “And the junkyard. And the paint store,” Sterling said, rubbing his hands together. “Wow,” I responded. Finn grunted. “You think you’d be interested in buying it?” Sterling asked, waving his hand back to the house. “How much is it?” Finn chimed in, snatching the words off my tongue.

“This baby here retails for over forty thousand dollars.” I felt myself instantly deflate. Finn put his hand on the back of my neck and I’m not sure if it was a sign of dominance or reassurance but either way I found myself liking that he was there. Even if he was doing more grunting and growling than actual talking. “But THIS particular one,” Sterling started, wagging his finger at the house. “Can be yours for…” he moved his fingers in the air like he was calculating something. “MMMM…say seven thousand dollars, plus transport fees. So around eight thousand five hundred. Well, of course you’d have to get someone to prep the land as well. That runs right around three grand.” And that was that. My short-lived dreams of homeownership were gone. “Thanks, Sterling.” I looked back at the house. “Maybe someday.” “Do you need to get anything?” I asked Finn who only shook his head and led me back toward the front gate. “Sawyer, don’t forget I owe you that walk,” Sterling called out. “Are you working this weekend?” “Lunch and dinner shift,” I called back. Finn answered too. By tightening his grip as he led me back through the gates of the junkyard and steered me in the opposite direction of the way I’d come in. Behind the junkyard, where his boat was waiting in the waterway, tied up to a small rickety dock covered in metal and plastic hubcaps. “You got here by boat?” I asked. “You can get most anywhere in this town by boat,” he answered. “How do you know Sterling?” I glanced back at the junkyard “I should have looked for truck parts for Rusty,” I said. “Rusty?” “My truck. That’s what Mom called him,” I explained. “I have to come back this way tomorrow. I’ll look then,” Finn said. “I’m working tomorrow.” “I’ll get you what you need.” “But how do you know what Rusty…” “I know,” Finn reassured me, holding out his hand. “Now tell me how you know Sterling.” I was hesitant in getting in the boat with him. I took a moment to take in his appearance. He wasn’t wrinkled or disheveled. He looked tired but didn’t reek of alcohol. “Why are you hesitating?” Finn asked curiously, still holding out his hand. “I’m just…”

Finn grabbed my hand. “I haven’t had anything to drink today. I’m not going to say I won’t, because I’d be lying but I’m not your father, Sawyer. I don’t beat on girls or women although I’ve given my fair share of beatings to men who for the most part had it coming.” “And some who didn’t?” I questioned. “Something like that.” “What do you do? For work?” I suddenly blurted. “Various things. A lot of unrelated things. Why?” Finn’s grip on my hand tightened. “Because maybe you should think about changing professions. You’d make an excellent mind reader,” I said, keeping my tone light. It worked. Finn chuckled. My stomach flipped and I wasn’t even on the boat yet and already I was suffering from some sort of pre sea-sickness. I stepped onto the boat which wobbled the second I got one foot in. Finn reached out with his other arm and guided me onto the boat. An electric current raced up my arms. I looked up at Finn and our eyes locked. He held onto me long after I’d steadied myself. “I’ve never been on a boat before,” I admitted. His eyebrows shot up like I’d just told him that I’d never eaten food or breathed air before. Finn guided me down onto the bench facing forward and he untied the boat, leaning against a pole shaped like a T next to the motor so he could steer us with a lever sticking out from the top. “So, Sterling?” Finn asked, not letting go of his earlier question. Finn was a complicated creature. Not all of his reactions were good and bad. He wasn’t that cut and dry. However, I was tempted to evade his question some more. A small part of me enjoyed the look of torment on his perfect face. However, his scowl told me I’d better not push my luck. “He comes into the bar. He likes to talk a lot.” “Some things never change,” he said flatly. “He’s NICE,” I emphasized the word NICE. “He’s not as nice as he seems,” Finn argued, pushing us off. “Why do you say that?” “Trust me,” he said. “Stay far away from him.” “Trust you? How can I trust you if you won’t tell me anything?” I asked, throwing my hands up in the air. “And you don’t get to tell me what to do. No one does. Not anymore.” “Have you really never been on a boat before?” Finn asked, changing the subject. “Yes. I’ve never done a lot of things before,” I answered, looking around in complete and utter wonderment at the water surrounding us. “I’ve never lived on my own in a real house. I’ve never seen a movie in an actual movie theater. I’ve never made dinner for

anyone besides my parents unless you count helping other women of the church make pies to sell at the farmers market. I’ve never been to a library and just sat down and read a book of my choice. No warnings or bans or approval needed. Maybe I’ll do it and sit there and read a seedy romance or…or Harry Potter! I’ve always wanted to read that one. Maybe I’ll even work at a library someday. That way I can read all day long.” The trees surrounding us were growing thicker until we were under a canopy of foliage with just hints of the sun’s rays peeking through making every gap appear like a shining star. “Until I came here, I’d never even traveled outside of the state. There are so many other things I don’t really even know yet,” I admitted. “But I’m going to find out… and I’m going to do them all.” “Is Critter’s your first job?” Finn asked. “It is,” I answered cheerfully. “Was I your first kiss?” My heart had been pounding wildly, but when he asked that question it stilled completely. I pretended to be very interested in a pair of tall grey birds drying their wings on the shore while trying to remember how to breathe. “You were.” I heard Finn make a noise that sounded like a hiss followed by a groan but I couldn’t bring myself to look at his face. The birds from the shore took that moment to dive under the water and thankfully it was a sharp enough ice pick to create a hole in the tension that had formed between us. Finn was quiet for a moment. “This conservative family of yours, it sounds more like a cult, keeping you sheltered from the modern world.” “It was and it wasn’t,” I answered as a snake slithered in an S form in front of the boat. I watched it swim all the way to the other side of the waterway before disappearing into the reeds. “We didn’t live on a compound or anything. We actually lived in one of those cookie cutter developments where all the houses looked the same, but lots of different kinds of people lived there. Not just members of the church. However, women were rarely allowed out in public without a male family member to escort us. I was only allowed out alone for simple errands, like the grocery store or bank. We did have a television in the basement, but it only got a few channels. I would sneak down and watch reruns of a show called M.A.S.H. in the middle of the night on mute.” “M.A.S.H.,” Finn said. “Good choice.” I blushed. “For the most part, growing up how I did, was very boring. But as I got older and my father… let’s just say I preferred the boring to the alternative,” I said, not wanting to dredge up a past that I wanted to keep buried deep in the swamp waters of my brain. “I’m here now,” I added. “That’s all that matters.” “Yes, you are,” Finn said and I couldn’t tell if he meant it in a good way or a bad way. I laughed nervously. “Do you want to hear the crazy part? I never even thought about leaving. I know that sounds stupid, but it was never an option. I couldn’t leave my mom

and I knew she’d never leave my dad, so it didn’t occur to me that I should leave until after she died. After she’d suggested it to me in a letter.” “Where is your dad now?” I shook my head. A frog croaked loudly nearby. “I’m not entirely sure. The church travels during the summer. They do this big tent tour, traveling to spread the word to little towns all over the southeast. He was planning on going with them this time around as assistant reverend. He could be anywhere.” Finn steered us between heavy brush so thick I thought we’d hit it for sure but we didn’t, skating right through with precision accuracy like he’d done it a million times before and knew the location of every stump and tree in the swamp. “So, I took the camper and truck that my mom left for me,” I continued, “and set out to find a real life of my own. Where no one could tell me what I can do and who I should or shouldn’t be friends with.” An eternity of silence stretched out between us. BASIN CANAL was spray painted in block lettering on a sign on the shore with an arrow pointing the direction we were going. I glanced back at Finn whose eyes were sparkling under the sunlight. He was looking at me but it was more. Like he was finally seeing me. All of me. “Have you found it yet?” he asked. “Found what?” “A real life of your own. What you came here to find.” My erratic heart was all over the place. My hands started to sweat. “Too soon to tell,” I finally answered. We slowly puttered and at one point I had to duck under a curtain of moss as we passed underneath. The other side of the curtain looked completely different. The waterway in the center was only wide enough for two boats to pass one another at the same time. Steam rose off the water creating a mist all around the boat. It was beautiful. “This isn’t anything like I thought a swamp would be. It smells like rain and…” I inhaled deeply. “Like…fresh cut grass.” “That’s probably because every movie ever that takes place in a swamp is a horror movie,” Finn commented. Almost immediately he realized his error and continued without apologizing or making me feel small. “Out here the water moves around a lot better than up by the house,” Finn explained. “Up there all the dead plant and animal matter sinks deep in the muck. That’s why you smell that sulpher rotten-egg smell. It’s usually worse after a rain storm, but it’s all a part of nature. A part of setting things to right and keeping everything moving.” We passed under another curtain of moss. Finn sat down behind me, lowering the handle of the motor. He had to part his legs in order to fit his large frame on the bench, a

knee on either side of me, his jean clad thighs brushed up against me with his movements. “I love all the Spanish moss,” I said, looking around. There was barely a branch that wasn’t covered completely in it. “It’s actually not moss. It’s not Spanish either.” Finn leaned forward so his chin was hovering above my shoulder. The base of my spine tingled with awareness. He pointed to a tree so covered in moss you couldn’t see a trace of the bark. I swallowed hard. “It’s not?” Finn leaned back and I exhaled. “It’s actually more related to a pineapple than moss.” “Then why do they call it Spanish moss if it’s not Spanish and it’s not a moss?” I asked. “Probably because southern logic is a little bit different than most,” he said, his eyes dipping to my thighs where my shorts had ridden up on my legs. I turned back around so he wouldn’t see my heated cheeks. “I’m learning that.” Finn turned the boat to the right to avoid a huge tree stump that looked like a knee sticking up from the middle of the waterway. “The moss reminded the French who came here a couple of hundred years back of the Spanish Conquistadors with their long beards, so they started calling it Spanish Beard, which somehow over time turned to Spanish Moss.” “You know a lot about the swamp.” “I should. I grew up here. Plus, history was the only class in high school that didn’t bore me to tears, so I picked up a thing or two.” “I’m not a big fan of the past,” I commented. When I stole a glance back I noticed him staring blankly at the shore. “I know where I’ve been, enough to know I’m never going back there.” When I turned back around, Finn’s eyes were again on me until something on the shore caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. “What’s that?” I asked, grateful for the distraction. “It’s a gator slide,” Finn said. “During the hotter months, they’ll make these nestmounds at the edge of the water to lay their eggs. You see those reeds up ahead? The green ones with the lily-pad looking thing at the end?” “Uh huh,” I followed to where he was pointing off the front of the boat. “There isn’t much that can crush those over just from wading through, so if you see any of those bent all in one direction it’s usually a good sign that you got gators nearby. There’s also one other telltale sign they’re close. The most important one to remember.” “What?” “It’s the fucking swamp,” Finn said. “Of course there are gators nearby.” “So he does know how to joke,” I said sarcastically. When we passed the back of a huge white house I screamed. “Stop!” I shouted and

Finn slowed the boat down. “That’s it!” I exclaimed as we floated past it. “This is the house I first saw when I came into town. Isn’t it amazing? It’s like a much bigger version of the park model in the junkyard. Do you know who lives there?” I asked. “Nobody worth mentioning,” Finn grumbled. I ignored him. “It’s almost pretty in a really messed up way. Almost like she doesn’t know how beautiful she is,” I lamented, looking around in wonderment at my surroundings before turning back to Finn. The heat of his gaze firmly fixed on mine. I bit my lip and my heart began to race as his eyes trailed from my eyes to my neck down to my t-shirt and my nipples tingled when they raked over the front of my t-shirt. “No, I don’t think she does,” Finn said. His lips turned upward into a smile that made my pelvis clench and my skin heat. A shadow crossed over the boat and Finn’s half smile fell. His gaze shifted over my head. Finn slowed the boat to a crawl as we approached the abandoned water park. “Wow,” I mouthed as we passed under three huge intertwining slides. “You really can get everywhere by water.” Back on the land there were tall palm trees artfully arranged around empty pools. Crumbled landscape curbing surrounded downed palm fronds and weeds covered the ground beneath them covering at least a few feet of the trunks themselves. A few small pavilions and some downed lockers came into view. The sign was missing letters but I’m pretty sure S K SH C once read SNACK SHACK. The place was the water park equivalent of a ghost town. Like when the wind whistled through the tunnel of the slide it was like I could almost hear the echoes of laughter from kids who never got the chance to slip down the twisting slides and the cries of the toddler who dropped their ice cream cone the second his mom handed it to him at the Snack Shack. “It looks sad. Like it was meant to bring happiness and now it’s just a reminder of what it’s never going to be,” I thought out loud. Finn remained quiet. “So, I take it you don’t like Sterling?” I asked in an attempt to get him to use words again. Finn’s expression remained unreadable. His lips in a straight line. His shoulders squared. “I mean, was he a friend of yours? Like Miller and Josh were?” “Fuck no,” he snapped. My frustration was growing. I’d just shared so much with him and in the course of a few seconds he’d completely shut down on me. Which was why I asked a question I knew I shouldn’t have, and pushed a button I knew I shouldn’t have pushed. “Finn, why aren’t you friends with Josh and Miller anymore?” “Drop it,” Finn grated through his teeth, speeding up the boat. The motor buzzed loudly, effectively ending any further conversation. When we got to Critter’s, Finn didn’t

bother tying off the boat. He hoisted me up onto the shore. “You told me to trust you, but I can’t trust you if you don’t tell me anything,” I said, trying one last time to get him to open up. “So then don’t,” he growled; before he pushed off the dock, he added “I’ll leave the door unlocked.” He zipped back under a curtain of moss. The high-pitched zinging of the small engine was all that remained of Finn’s presence. “Don’t,” I whispered, rubbing the skin on my arms up and down as if a sudden chill had blown through the thick humid air. When my dad wasn’t drunk, he still wasn’t the happiest person in the world. Liquor for him was that added fuel to an already burning fire. It helped turn his irritation into full blown anger which then caused him to lash out. It was the reason why I’d come to see him as a monster instead of a father. But with my father, it was like a predictable kind of insanity. Finn’s anger, on the other hand, didn’t come with the courtesy of a warning in the form of a bottle. He didn’t need alcohol to help flip the switch on his demons. Even though I had a feeling it was Finn’s demons that were somehow flipping the switch on him. Whatever he had gone through, he was STILL going through it and it was worse than I’d imagined. I needed to keep my distance. To not allow myself to be fooled by his kiss or convinced that he was a good person to have in my life because I liked how it felt in his arms. I knew better. The only thing more dangerous than a predictable monster… Was an unpredictable one.

Chapter Twenty-Seven SAWYER

here exactly are we going?” I asked Sterling who was leading me in the opposite “W direction of Josh’s apartment building. He grabbed something from a big black newer looking shiny truck parked on the side of the road and clicked the alarm button, making the headlights flash as the chirp indicated it was all locked up. “And if you have a truck then why are we walking?” “I told you. I have a surprise for you,” Sterling said mysteriously. “What is it?” “You do know how surprises work don’t you?” he teased. “Hasn’t anyone surprised you before?” “No,” I admitted. “Not very often.” And not in any sort of good way. “Well, I’m your first then. Just how I like it,” Sterling said suggestively, wagging his eyebrows at me. “Sorry. I was just teasing,” he reassured me when he noticed how uncomfortable his comment had made me. I shifted my book from one arm to the other. Sterling quickly changed the subject and plucked the book from my hand. “What are you reading?” he asked, holding the book up so he could read the title in the moonlight. “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn? It’s not my favorite, but back in school, we had to read it almost every year for different lit classes. I must have read it a thousand times.” he handed it back to me. “You?” “This will be my first.” “So, what’s going on with you and Finn?” Sterling asked. “He seemed a little… protective of you at the junk yard.” “He was my neighbor before the storm wrecked my camper. He’s the one who pulled me from it,” I explained. He’s also had his tongue in my mouth and we’ve seen each other naked. “Really? That’s…interesting,” Sterling said; he began to whistle when we approached the clearing where just beyond the trees my camper laid in a mangled mess and Finn’s house loomed at the edge of the swamp.

I stopped in my tracks. “Why are we here?” Sterling winked. “You’ll see, come on. It’s part of the surprise.” I didn’t move. “Come on, I promise you’ll like it,” Sterling exclaimed, grabbing me by the hand and dragging me through the clearing. I stopped again but this time only because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My camper was upright. Still twisted, but upright, but it was what was next to the camper that left me speechless. It was the house from the junkyard, only it wasn’t split down the middle anymore. It was in one piece. Not only that but it was surrounded by a light yellow wooden deck that had been built around it. “You’ve got a well now too,” Sterling said proudly, pointing to some white piping sticking out from the yard beside the house. “So, you have running water now. A drainfield too so you don’t have to worry about flushing the toilets. It’s all got somewhere to go now.” “It’s mine?” I asked in a whisper slowly making my way to the steps leading up to the beautiful new deck. It smelled like fresh cut wood and stain. “It’s all yours,” Sterling verified. “Here, catch,” he tossed me something from his pocket, I assume it was whatever he’d retrieved from his truck on the way here. I caught it. It was a single brass key and on the keychain, was my name. “Who? How?” I asked, turning back to Sterling who I hadn’t realized had been standing right behind me. I crashed into his chest and he reached out, grabbing my shoulders to steady me. “Easy there, killer,” he said with a smirk. “I could tell you who did this for you but that would be breaking the very exclusive secrecy agreement with a very private entrepreneur who has a tendency to do these kinds of things for the citizens of this town.” “Is this the same person who helped out Josh’s parents?” I asked curiously, still not believing that I was holding keys to my very own house on my very own land. “The very same one.” “Do you know who it is?” I asked. “I need to know who to thank.” Sterling put his hands in his pocket and rocked back on his heels. He made a ‘zipping up his lip and throwing away the key’ motion. It hit me then. There were only two people who knew how much I loved that house. Sterling and Finn and since Sterling was the one who gave me the keys… “It was you.” Sterling chuckled and placed his finger over his lips in a sssshhh motion. “I can’t say.” He winked again. “Now go take a look!” I turned and raced up the steps, the sound of Sterling’s footsteps close behind. “How much is rent?” I asked, remembering that Josh said her family was able to rent it back from the investor who’d bought their home for a low cost.

“This isn’t a loaner. It’s not owned by someone else. It was purchased in your name. You own it. Free and clear.” “I have a house,” I screeched. “I have a house!” Sterling was suddenly right next to me lifting me in the air and twirling me around. “Now open the door,” he said in my ear. I shook myself from his grip and put my key in the lock. “How was all of this done in just a few days?” I wondered. “You’d be surprised how many underworked skilled construction workers are still living in Outskirts.” When I turned the key and pushed opened the door, Sterling reached around me and switched on the light. The cabinets had been fixed and were now straight and not peeling. The bare wooden board floors were now a grey colored weathered hardwood. Everything had been cleaned and new looking white appliances had been installed including a washer and dryer in the laundry room. A small yellow couch, a four-person round dinette set and a mattress and box spring were all in the house as well. I was home. “Do you like it?” Sterling asked from the kitchen where he was leaning against the counter with his legs crossed at the ankles. “I love it. Tell whoever did this thank you. Thank you so, so much.” “I’ll be sure to tell him,” Sterling said, “but trust me, he’ll just be happy knowing that you’re happy. And grateful.” “Thanks,” I said, excited about my house but my throat started to run dry at Sterling’s sudden innuendo. “I’ll leave you to enjoy your new place,” Sterling said, giving my shoulders a squeeze. “Enjoy, Sawyer. See you soon.” “Sterling?” I asked. He turned back around. “Thank you,” I said again. He smiled and took a deep bow before walking back out the door with a smile on his face. When Sterling left, my shoulders fell. I’d been so stupid thinking that he was there for any other reason than to make sure I liked my gift. I instantly felt guilty for thinking anything bad about him or his intentions. I brushed all that away and ran to my new room and leapt onto the mattress. I screamed into it to muffle the sound and pounded it with my excited fists. I sat up and gasped. “I have a house.” I stood up and skipped around the kitchen. I looked out the kitchen window across the

way to the shack. The curtains shifted, but I didn’t want to think about Finn and the confused way he made me feel. I wanted to enjoy the moment so I pushed those thoughts away and concentrated on the excitement bubbling up inside of me and enjoyed the moment. I ran back to the bed and plopped down onto my back. Giggling to myself and feeling a kind of joy I’d never felt before. A kind of joy I never knew existed. I was home.

Chapter Twenty-Eight SAWYER

I

was in a dead sleep when a knock came at the door. I hadn’t seen my brooding neighbor since he’d dropped me off after our swamp trip over a week ago, yet for some reason, I expected to find him on the other side of the door. Only it wasn’t him. It was Sterling. He was standing on the deck, chugging a bottle of water. Something was off. His eyes weren’t focused. His usually neatly combed hair was mussed, and his shirt was untucked. “Sterling, are you okay?” I asked. “I’m great,” he slurred, pushing past me. Some of his water splashed on me in the process and I quickly realized it wasn’t water at all. It was vodka. And he wasn’t okay. He was drunk. Alarm bells started going off in my head. I glanced across the field to Finn’s house. I stayed by the door, leaving it open. “You should go,” I said, feeling uncomfortable. My throat tightened. “You’re drunk. I was sleeping.” “But I haven’t gotten the full tour,” Sterling slurred, leaning toward me. “Aren’t you going to thank me for the house?” “Thank you for the house,” I said. “Now please go.” “That’s not quite the thanks I’m looking for,” Sterling said with no emotion in his voice. He crossed the room and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me from the door and slamming it shut. My head spun. My heart raced. Memories of my father looking at me the way Sterling

was invaded my mind. He cornered me and I pushed against him, turning my head to the side when he leaned in toward me. He smelled like body odor masked with cheap cologne. “Leave,” I said, again. “Leave now!” Sterling only laughed. He pressed his thin cold lips against my cheek. Bile rose in my throat. His hand roamed over my t-shirt and he squeezed my breast painfully hard as I struggled to free myself from the prison of his body. I screamed as loud as I could and kicked my leg upward with all the force I could muster. I connected with his groin and he groaned, the full force of his weight landing on top of my chest. He fell to the floor, dragging me along with him and landing directly on top of me. I was sure I was going to pass out from not being able to take anything more than a shallow breath. “You’re going to pay for that,” Sterling groaned, covering my mouth with one hand and cocking back his fist. Sterling’s face morphed into something else. Someone else. Someone I couldn’t escape from no matter how hard I tried. Not in my dreams and not in my nightmares. Only this wasn’t either. This was real. “What did I tell you, Father?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. “What? What are you talking about you stupid girl?” “I told you never again. You’ll be sorry,” I said. And then I began laughing. High and loud. “Why the hell are you laughing. I’ll give you something to laugh about!” The door crashed open, slamming against the wall. His eyes widened as he turned to see Finn’s massive body standing in the doorway. “That’s why,” I whispered as Finn launched himself at my father who’d morphed back into Sterling the second Finn laid hands on him. “Get your hands off of me,” Sterling growled as Finn tossed him out the door and off the deck, landing on his side. He rolled over, grabbing his arm. “You’re fucking her aren’t you?” Sterling asked with a manic laugh. “It fucking figures.” Finn’s eyes were as dark as I’d ever seen them. His fingers flexed and his chest heaved as he glared hatred down at Sterling who was on the ground, wiping blood from the corner of his lip. “So this is where you’ve been hiding,” Sterling said with laughter that had an edge to it.

“Is HE why you won’t fuck me?” Sterling asked me. Finn’s eyes followed to where I was standing in the doorway then back to Sterling who was attempting to stand. “Glad I found out now before things went too far,” he snarled, stepping up to Finn. “The last thing I want is the famed Finn Hollis’s sloppy seconds…again.” Finn’s fists clenched together. I stepped up to Finn, placing my hand on his. He turned to me and looked down to where my hand was on his arm. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me.” Finn gave me a sharp nod, hopped down from the deck and grabbed Sterling by the shirt with one hand and began to pummel him with his closed fist. He roared like an animal, a sound I could feel deep within my gut. Blood sprayed from Sterling’s nose. Bone cracked. Finn lifted him up by his shirt into the air then shoved him back into the ground. “Get the fuck out of here,” Finn seethed. “She’s all yours,” Sterling said, stumbling and coughing, blood gushing from his nose and lip. “Little slut has too many of those goddamned ugly freckles anyway.” Finn took a single step to Sterling and punched him across the jaw. Sterling fell onto his back on the ground with a groan and a gurgle. “If you ever try and lay a hand on her again… If you ever talk to her again… You won’t come out breathing next time. I’ll tether you to a tree in the swamp where no one will be able to hear you scream.” “You going to kill me the same way you killed Jackie?” Sterling rasped. “Did he tell you about her Sawyer? Did he tell you how he killed his fiancée?” Sterling snarled as he taunted Finn who looked like his eyes were bulging out of his head. His neck was corded. Sterling chuckled “At least I got a taste first.” Finn sent one last punch to Sterling’s face and his entire body stilled. No more gurgling. No more groaning. Finn stood, grabbed his phone from his back pocket and held it to his ear. I didn’t understand the words he was saying to the person on the other end. I only heard something that sounded like waves in the ocean loud in my ears. A wet kind of static. I didn’t realize I’d been crouching down behind the side of the house until Finn approached, putting his phone away. “Did…did you kill him?” I asked, my voice shaking. I stood and took a few steps back from Finn whose expression switched from murderous to confused. Finn reached out his hand to me and I zoned in on the blood across his knuckles. When he realized what I was looking at he pulled it back but it was too late. I was already running. I ran from Finn. I ran from Sterling. I ran from the past. I was in a full sprint by the time the full weight of a memory crashed into me like a

wave, pulling me under and holding me deep beneath the surface. Drowning me.

“DOES it hurt when he hits you, Mommy? It sounds like it does.” “No. It doesn’t hurt. I go to my safe place. He can’t hurt me there. No one can.” “What’s it like in your safe place?” “It’s warm and sunny. There are birds and alligators and all sorts of animals there.” “What is your safe place called, Mommy?” “It’s called Outskirts, but that’s our secret. You can’t tell a soul, not even your father.” “I won’t. I promise.” “Good.” “Hey, Mommy?” “Yes?” “Outskirts is a silly name.” “Yes, it is, darling. Yes, it is.” “Caroline!” Father called from downstairs. Mother gave me a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t go,” I begged. “Don’t worry. It will be over soon. I told you. I’ll just go to my happy place.” “Because he can’t hurt you there? In Outskirts?” “Exactly,” Mother said, getting off my bed. “Your father can never hurt me when I’m in Outskirts.” The storm rolled in. The thunder boomed. I held the blanket over my head, but no matter how loud the thunder boomed it couldn’t drown out the sound of shattering glass. Whimpers. Angry demands. The crack of leather against skin. Defeated cries, that I’d later realize, were my own.

“SAWYER! SAWYER! SAY!” My body shook and I blinked rapidly to find a man lying on top of me, his chest heaving. His fingers digging into my skin. I glanced around at the heavily wooded area surrounding me then back to the man. In my mind, I saw Sterling. My father. I panicked.

I fought. I screamed. “Get off of me!” I kicked my legs and flailed my arms. “I won’t let you hurt me anymore. I won’t let anyone hurt me!” My fists were caught in the air, bound together in one big strong hand. “Sawyer, it’s me! It’s Finn. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice trailed off. “I would never hurt you.” I slowly opened my eyes and when they finally focused, Finn’s face appeared above me, but the panic was still there, right under the surface like a boiling pot with a flimsy lid. “Finn,” I stated simply. “Let me up.” Finn watched me curiously as he slid off me. “He’s gone.” He leaned in to run his hand down my face, but I tore my head away before he could touch me. When he tried to help me up I flinched. “I can do it,” I spat. Finn took a step back and allowed me room to get to my feet. I stumbled and lost my footing. Finn caught me and again I struggled to free myself from his grip, but this time instead of stepping back he only held me tighter, spinning me around and searching my eyes. “I’m not him,” Finn said, calmly and assertively. “I know you’re not Sterling,” I said, wriggling from his grasp. He dug his fingers into my arms. “No. Not Sterling. You know who I’m talking about,” Finn said. “I’m not him.” I closed my eyes. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over.” I wanted to disappear. From Finn, from the memories. I needed to be alone. To think. “I don’t know where you went back there, but I know you weren’t here.” He pulled me in tighter. “I’m not him,” he growled, louder this time like he was trying to push the words into my soul. “Just let me go!” I begged. “Please!” I didn’t want to face it. Any of it. “Sawyer, say it. Tell me. Look at me and say it!” Finn shouted. Wanting to get whatever it was he was trying to do over with, I opened my eyes, glared into Finn with everything I had and screamed, “You’re not hiiiiim!” After a few seconds of Finn and I staring at one another, I felt the words sink in. “You’re not him,” I whispered, just as I felt the fight inside me turn from bright to dim to dead. I collapsed forward into Finn’s arms and made no attempt to get away this time. I felt exhausted. Drained. Finn spoke into my hair. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” I answered, my teeth chattering. Finn eased back so he could look at me, keeping his hands lightly on my arms. “Where did you go?” I sucked in a breath. “Home. I went home,” I answered, feeling confused and shaken up. My heart still racing and my head pounding. Finn raised a hand to smooth some hair from my face but stopped again when he noticed his knuckles. His eyes widened and he dropped his hand. “It’s okay, now,” I assured him. I reached out and grabbed his hand. I blew air over his wounded knuckles. “I’m sorry I scared you,” Finn said softly. “Me too.” Finn bent at the waist and lifted me off the ground with one arm behind my knees and the other supporting my neck. He held me against his chest and carried me out of the woods and back to the clearing. “When I kicked opened your door,” Finn started, “You were laughing. Why?” “Because, I knew you’d come,” I said, hearing and feeling Finn’s heartbeat quicken against my temple. “I knew you’d save me.” “You did?” Finn asked, his voice broken. I nodded and closed my eyes. “I did. He can’t hurt me here. I’m in my safe place.” “Your safe place?” he questioned as we approached my house. “Outskirts. He can’t hurt me when I’m in Outskirts.” I sighed deeply as I echoed my mother’s words from the past. “No one can.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine FINN

S

he knew I’d come.

“My mother told me when I was younger that no one could hurt her while she was in Outskirts. That’s what I was remembering. When I zoned out.” “Did you ask Critter about her?” I asked. “Yes, I asked him about her. Described her. He said he didn’t know her.” “Maybe he was getting his wires crossed. No one has been in this town in the last fifty years that Critter didn’t know in one way or another. Maybe there’s a record of her somewhere in the library. That’s where they used to store all the City Hall stuff before City Hall moved to the mayor’s back guest room-slash-home office. I’ll ask around for you.” “You will?” Sawyer asked, perking up. “Yes. But are you sure you’re okay?” I asked Sawyer. “You’re surprisingly calm after what just happened. It’s kind of freaking me out.” Sawyer chuckled and rested her head on my shoulder. “I’m sure. I promise.” We were on my porch, sitting on the old porch swing listening to the bugs chatter in the otherwise silent night. “I hate that you’ve been so used to being beaten that Sterling trying to assault you hasn’t affected you the way it should.” I felt a new pulse of anger surge through me. “I hate that too. But I can’t change the past. I can only change my future. And I told you, Sterling didn’t hurt me.” Sawyer met my eyes. “Because of you.” I wish I’d had the kind of faith in me that Sawyer had just shown. I had faith in her too. It was about time I showed her just how much. My hands shook when I pulled the picture from my wallet and handed it to her. “This is Jackie, right?” Sawyer sat up and examined the picture. I nodded. “She’s beautiful.”

“She was,” I agreed. “Tell me about her,” Sawyer said without a trace of pity in her eyes. I lifted her legs so they were draped across my lap. I thought for a moment. “Well, when I first met her we were both all elbows and knees. Just a couple of lanky kids. She had more energy than a power plant. Always buzzing around and getting into something. We were just friends at first. We had a lot of fun together.” I chuckled at the memories. “Got in a lot of trouble together too. Especially with Josh and Miller.” Sawyer laughed with me, and the sound was like the best part of a song, the kind you always wanted to sing along to even if you didn’t know any of the other words. “Jackie was one of those people that walked into a room and every single head turned, and not just because she was beautiful, which she was, but because she had this thing about her that made people want to be around her. Made ME want to be around her.” “People orbited her,” Sawyer chimed in. “Exactly, orbited her. I like that,” I agreed, pulling Sawyer closer. “When we hit high school, we became more than friends. She was never a good sleeper so she used to sneak into my bedroom window at night. Said she always slept better with me, but I don’t think that was true because when I’d wake up in the middle of the night she was always either staring at the ceiling or playing on her phone or pacing the room.” I sighed and my throat started to tighten. “I should’ve seen the signs,” I continued. “We’d just graduated. Had plans to move in together. We partied a lot, but we were teenagers just doing teenage shit. Then our Friday night partying turned into every single night partying. When I suggested we slow down, she left me.” I shook my head as if I still couldn’t believe it and sometimes I couldn’t. “Four fucking years together and she left me because I didn’t want to party like an 80’s hair-band on a Tuesday night anymore.” I looked down to where my hands were resting high on Sawyer’s thighs. She sat up and wrapped her arms around my waist, pressing her cheek to my bare chest. “Then what happened?” she asked, the moonlight highlighted the freckles on her cheeks. Not being able to help myself, I leaned over and brushed my lips across them before remembering she’d asked me a question. “Then Sterling happened,” I growled. “I guess he didn’t have a problem with her partying because suddenly she went from drinking every day to being dependent on oxys. “ Sawyer looked at me with a confused expression on her face. “Painkillers,” I clarified. “She even came around asking me if I could get them for her. Asked Miller too.” “What did you do?” “I suggested she go to rehab,” I said, remembering how pissed off Jackie was when I’d

brought it up the first time. And second. And third. And every time after that. “Did she go?” Sawyer asked, sounding as hopeful as I did in the beginning. I sighed and dropped my head. “No. No, she didn’t. So, I did the next best thing.” I smiled at the memory. “Which was what?” “I locked her in my house for a week,” I said, proudly. “You didn’t,” Sawyer gasped. “I did. I’d do it all over again, too because after that she was clean. At least for a while. We got back together. Moved in together, and I proposed. She said yes.” My throat started to close up and I coughed into my fist. “You don’t have to keep going,” Sawyer said, sensing my unease. “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s just that I haven’t talked about her in a long time.” I took a deep breath. “She bought all these bridal magazines. She was happy to be wedding planning. We both were. I guess in all of the excitement I missed the signs. She wasn’t sleeping again. Up all hours of the night, and when she did sleep she’d sleep all day. I thought she was just worn out from being up all night. Or that she had a lot on her mind with the wedding.” I steeled myself for what I was about to say next. Sawyer sensed my unease and sat up, wrapping her arms and legs around me. “Then one night I woke up and she was gone. Something just didn’t feel right. I called Josh and Miller and we went out looking for her. I was the one who found her.” I took a deep steadying breath that shook on the way in. “At the water park. At the top of the big slide.” “She…fell?” Sawyer asked hesitantly, her legs tightening around my waist. “She left a note at the top of the slide.” My voice a raspy staccato. I inhaled Sawyer’s sweet scent, needing to breathe her in, feel more of her so I could continue. “She waited until I got there, like she wanted me to see her do it. She wanted me to see her… jump.”

Sawyer Finn held me tighter. “What did you do?” I asked, my own voice a breathy whisper. My heart broke for him. I felt the anguish in his every word as if the story he was telling was my own. And in some ways, it might as well have been. In others, it was in NO WAY the same. I didn’t witness Mother end her life the way he’d watched Jackie end hers. I couldn’t begin to imagine. More and more I was understanding the reasoning for the way Finn reacted to things. To the way he treated me.

I was understanding Finn. He stroked the back of my hair. “She jumped off the back of the slide, the side where the swamp runs underneath. I ran and dove into the water where she landed, but I couldn’t find her. Miller and Josh too. We spent hours after it went dark combing every inch of the water long after the search teams and police had left. When they came to show me the suicide note they’d found at the top of the slide, at first I couldn’t believe it. Even though, looking back on her behavior, I should’ve believed it. The signs were there. They were there long before that day. Years before.” “Even after all that I still spent weeks on my boat searching for her. I was crazed with this idea that she could somehow be alive in the swamp, but just lost.” He shook his head against me, wiping the wetness of his tears against my skin. “Jackie was born and raised here. She knew those waters better than most. As kids, we spent every hour we weren’t in school in that swamp. But I kept searching anyway. That’s how I got this.” Finn grabbed my wrist and gently guided my fingers to trace the raised white scar above his eye that ran from his eyebrow into his hairline. “Ran my boat so fast without using a spotlight that I didn’t even see the low hanging branch. I was lucky it wasn’t more.” Every wall I’d ever built to keep him out came crumbling down and as he spoke a bridge was built with direct access to everything I ever had to offer. “Why did Sterling try and make it seem like her death was your fault?” I asked. “He blames me for convincing her to get sober and for her leaving him to come back to me,” Finn explained. “He thinks if I let her do what she wanted and stopped making her feel guilty about her extreme upswings and downswings then she wouldn’t have wanted to kill herself.” “That’s why you came out here,” I said, it wasn’t a question. “That’s why I came out here,” Finn agreed. “Everything reminded me of her. Every person. I just wanted to be alone, so I came out here,” he said, searching my eyes and cupping my face with his hand. “And then you came around…” “And blasted a hole right through your plans to be the grumpy hermit who lived in the swamp,” I finished for him. Finn’s smile was tight as first. Pained. “No, then you came around.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over mine. His smile grew. The pain lifted. The lines on his face straightened. “You made me realize I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Chapter Thirty SAWYER

ey, wake up,” Finn said, lightly shaking me into consciousness. I sat up and rubbed “H my eyes. Finn grabbed my hand and yanked me off the bed. “Come on. I want to show you something.” He tugged me through the front door. I squinted under the glow of the sun appearing over the trees. “I have to get dressed,” I said, sleepily. “What you have on is fine. Just throw on some boots.” I brushed my teeth and threw on my boots. I also took a second to pull my crazy bedhair into a messy bun on the top of my head. The second I opened the front door, Finn stepped up to meet me on top of the deck and bent down, scooping me over his shoulders and carrying me over to his Bronco. Finn looked up to the early morning sky. “Storm is coming.” “You may not want to pursue a career as a weatherman,” I mumbled looking up at the same sky only to see clear blue and cloud free. “Well.” Finn hoisted me up into the Bronco like I weighed nothing. I held my breath so I wouldn’t moan at the feel of his fingers digging into my skin. “The breeze is picking up, plus, I have this filling in the back of my mouth that aches when bad weather is about to come through.” He opened his mouth and pointed to something in the back I couldn’t see. “Really?” Maybe Finn was more off his marbles than I’d originally thought. “No not really, but there is this one other way I know, but it’s a secret, you can’t tell anyone,” he whispered, looking around to see if anyone was around to hear him. “What’s that?” I whispered back. He crooked his finger and I leaned over the center console and he reached out and turned my head forward so he could whisper in my ear. Only he didn’t just whisper in my ear, he brushed his lips against the edge of it, his voice vibrated down my neck, straight through to my nipples, and ended in a throb between my thighs that had me shifting and

crossing my legs before he’d even finished his sentence. “The secret is…” his tongue grazed my earlobe and I was glad I was facing forward so he wouldn’t see my eyes roll back in my head. Suddenly he was gone and his phone was in my lap. He started the car. “This,” he pointed down to his phone which had tonight’s Outskirts forecast mapped out by the hour on the screen. “Your secret is that your phone tells you?” I questioned, holding it up. “Yeah, don’t tell anyone. I’d rather people from up north, like you, think it’s just good ‘ole southern boy magic.” “I’m not from up north. I’m from North Carolina,” I argued. I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms over my chest. His eyes dropped down and he didn’t even try and hide where he was looking. I squirmed in my seat and yanked down my t-shirt, which didn’t help because the stretchy material only rode up further on my thighs. “’Round here that makes you practically a Yankee,” he teased, leaning over and squeezing my knee, which caused my core to squeeze too. He quickly withdrew his hand and I looked out the window and pretended to watch the passing scenery so I could have a second to collect myself and hide my face which I’m pretty sure was heated with varying shades of splotchy pink and red. “Around here, everything is a little different than most places,” I finally managed to say over my rapidly beating heart. “Good different or bad different?” Finn asked, keeping his eyes on the road. I thought for a moment while a montage played in my head of everyone I’d met since I’d arrived in Outskirts. Josh, Critter, Miller, and then finally, Finn. My stomach fluttered and my heart raced. I bit my lower lip. “Definitely a good kind of different.” Finn winked at me and when we reached the highway he pulled off into the median not far from where he’d almost plowed into me the first night. “Planning to run me over and finish what you started?” I teased. “Not tonight anyway. I want to show you something, though.” He leapt out and came over to my side to lift me out of the truck, carrying me to the front and setting me on the hood. “If we are here to watch cars pass, you couldn’t have picked a worse road,” I pointed out. Finn laughed and I loved the sound and how it twisted my insides in a way that made everything feel good again. He held out his hand and lifted me so I could sit next to him. The bare skin of his bicep against mine. The heat from his jean-clad thigh pressed up against my uncovered leg. I took a deep breath through my nose to calm my racing pulse. “Why exactly are we here?” “This highway is the highest point in the county. They built it up so all the water would run off into the ditches on the side of the road. And since this is the flattest land

without trees up ahead, it’s the perfect spot to watch the storm come in.” Finn pointed up ahead. I looked up slowly only to be faced with a huge black cloud moving our way. The rising sun cast shades of angry red and orange around it. Gray wispy clouds dangled underneath it like tentacles. I froze. “I don’t think I want to be here,” I said, hopping down from the hood. Finn followed and stopped me by wrapping his arms around my waist and turning me back to face the incoming storm. He marched me back in front of the Bronco. I closed my eyes tightly and shook my head. “For a girl who’s so fearless at times, you sure are a bit of a chicken shit when it comes to storms. I aim to help you fix that. Let me help you fix that.” His words caressed my skin, soothing my fears and igniting a fire in my body. “For a guy who’s been a hermit for over two years, you sure are quick to judge,” I responded. “Ouch, that hurts. Right here.” He patted my chest, right above my heart. “And what makes you think I’m fearless?” I asked with my eyes still shut, trying not to sound as shaky as I felt. He hesitated for a moment. “Because you’re here with me right now, aren’t you?” Finn pressed his lips to the side of my neck. “Now open your eyes.” “I’m not going to get over my fear by standing here and watching the Infinite Doom head my way,” I said. “Infinite Doom?” “I gave it an alien vessel name,” I explained. I opened my eyes briefly to have Finn looking down at me with a sideways expression. “At Critter’s, when the games are over, Star Trek reruns play in the late afternoons,” I clarified, closing my eyes once again. Finn chuckled. “That explains that. Infinite Doom, I like it. But come on, Say. I’ll be with you the entire time. I’ll protect you,” he said, brushing his fingertips against my arms, sending a shiver through my body. “What if there are…tornados?” I asked, whispering the word tornado like a potential funnel cloud was going to hear me and come running from the bushes with an axe at the mention of its name. “Like last time.” “I’ll make you a deal. I promise that if a tornado comes then I’ll throw myself in front of it and fight it ‘till the death while you make your get away.” “You’d fight a tornado for me?” I asked, with a ton of mock sincerity. “And they say chivalry is dead.” Making a joke was a big mistake. He chuckled against my skin between my neck and shoulder I couldn’t help the full body shudder that erupted where his lips touched and ended somewhere else I’ve never imagined his lips touching…until right then.

“Do you trust me?” Finn whispered. “Not even a little,” I lied. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you open your eyes.” This time both of his hands dropped from my waist, slowly slid down the outside of my legs to the hem of my tshirt. “I can’t.” I bit my lip and tried not to groan as Finn heated my skin like his fingertips were made of flames. “Open your eyes, Say,” he said again, pushing both hands across to the inside of my legs where he gave the delicate flesh on the very inside of my thighs a light squeeze. That did the trick. My eyes sprang open and once again I was faced with the darkness of the Infinite Doom and its earth killing tentacles that were heading directly for us. “What is it that you’re trying to do?” I asked as one of his hands pressed against my thigh, tethering me in place, and the other skated up my shirt, fingering the delicate edge of my panties. “I want you to see the storm for what it really is,” Finn said, his voice deep and raspy. “What would that be?” Keeping my eyes on the storm. My heart raced as it grew closer and closer. The fear coursing through my blood, setting alarms off in my brain. “It might be mysterious and seem threatening at first, but really it’s beautiful and it’s only coming through to water and give life to everything below it,” Finn explained in a calm but firm tone. “Look at it with new eyes. Look at it as something that heals. Not harms.” I leaned back, pressing my body into Finn’s as his fingers found their way into my panties and brushed over the most sensitive spot on my body. A mere whisper of his touch over my delicate bundle of nerve endings. I instinctually pressed my thighs together, trapping his hand in between. “Now what fun is that?” Finn asked, trailing his tongue along the back of my neck and pushing my thighs apart with his hand once again. He leaned back against his Bronco and took me with him so my body was tilted slightly toward the sky. I could watch the incoming storm as well as feel his throbbing hardness underneath me. My entire body heated. Tingles erupted from places I’d never felt them before. Finn began to stroke me gently but firmly in a circular pattern. Each time he completed the circle and started over again it sent a jolt of pleasure between my legs. I felt myself growing wetter and wetter. He groaned in my ear and set off a new spark inside of me that begged to be released. “You see,” Finn started, his voice a deep rasp. “At first you think it’s just this dark thing coming to take over your life or at the very least annoy the shit out of you for a while.”

I would have laughed, but my laugh died before I could get the sound out of my mouth because his fingers picked up speed. I groaned and Finn responded by pulling me tighter against him. “But then you realize, that it’s only here to help. The rain feeds the world, giving us what we need to live. The lightning starts natural fires that burn off natural waste. The thunder is nature’s gong, reminding us that we’re alive. It’s like you.” “How?” I asked, my brain muddied by the sensations washing over me. By the need building painfully in my lower stomach. Finn smiled against my skin. “I just told you. You remind me I’m alive.” With those words, he toyed with the outer lips of my sex, strumming them like guitar strings, just as a wall of rain appeared in the near distance. I wriggled in his grasp unsure of where to go or what to do as it grew closer and closer. “Look at it, Say,” Finn demanded, turning my chin toward the incoming rain as he rotated his fingers in varying stages of slow and fast with no discernable rhythm leaving me wanting for more and wondering what was coming next. I did what Finn said. I looked at it with new eyes. As something wondrous instead of something evil. Something here to help, not hurt. As the wall of water approached I found myself almost in awe of it. “It’s beautiful.” “It really is,” Finn said, pulling his fingers from my panties abruptly, turning me around to face him. “The most beautiful,” he said, looking into my eyes and licking my wetness off his fingers. He lowered his lips to mine and once again, his hand found its way up my shirt and into my panties. As the first drops of rain fell, the tension and fear about the storm melted away and the tension of passion and desire grew and grew until I didn’t think I could take anymore. “You’re close. I can feel it,” Finn growled. “Face it. Face the storm when you come.” He spun me around again and resumed stroking me. Faster and faster. “Tell it you’re not afraid of it,” he demanded. “No, I can’t.” And I didn’t know if it was because of what he was doing to me or because although I could find the water beautiful, I couldn’t quite let go of the fear. “Come on, I thought you were fearless,” Finn prodded. “I never said that. Actually, I’ve said the opposite. Pretty much everything scares me,” I responded, tossing my head back as he increased the pressure between my legs. “Finn, I don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t know…” “You don’t have to know what I’m doing,” Finn said, “because I do.” Finn pressed the heel of his hand against my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. When my body tensed and I felt like something was about to happen he eased up, leaving me wanting and gasping.

“All you have to do is tell the storm you’re not afraid,” he nipped the edge of my ear, “and I’ll give you what you want.” I couldn’t even pretend to be unaffected by him. His touch, his words. His insistence in trying to cure me of one of my biggest fears. I rocked back against his hand. “I’m not afraid of you,” I said, although as the darkest part of the clouds grew closer I did feel my pulse start to quicken and my body stiffen. “There, I did it.” Finn paused his movement all together and I almost growled out of frustration. “Louder, much louder,” Finn said, starting his torturous stroke over my sex once again. “I am NOT afraid of you!” I yelled. The intensity of the buildup was almost too much to bear. I needed a release. I needed Finn. “Louder!” Finn yelled. He picked up the pace and pressed his erection firmly against the crack between my butt cheeks. “I AM NOT AFRAID OF YOUUUUUUU!!!!!” I yelled with all my might, bucking back against him. I expected Finn to comment, or at least laugh at how loud I was, but he again paused his fingers but didn’t withdraw. I glanced over my shoulder to find him watching me with his eyes hooded and his pupils large and dark. “Are you afraid of ME?” Finn asked softly, rocking his hips against me. The rain came in, washing out everything around us, there was no more road. No more trees. Just me and him and this fire blazing between us that not even the rain couldn’t put out. I could only manage to shake my head. “Really?” Finn leaned over me, rocking against me. “Because you scare the shit out of me.” Lightning lit up the early morning sky and thunder bellowed and shook the gravel under my feet. And for once…I wasn’t afraid. Finn pressed the pad of his thumb down hard on the very spot that was throbbing for him. As the next roll of thunder roared through the air so did I. My body released what it had been holding on to in a flush of pleasure that came in spurts, one more blissful than the next. The scream that tore from my mouth rivaled the thunder itself. I was no longer skin and flesh and bones. I was only feeling and sensation and pleasure coursing through my body over and over again, wringing every last muscle of its power until I collapsed against Finn who held me up so I wouldn’t fall. But it was too late. I’d already fallen.

Chapter Thirty-One SAWYER

“Y ou are by far one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen,” I said to Josh. It had been a few days since Finn took me out to face the storm and cure my fear. Now, it was my turn to help cure him of one of his. Finn was aware of my plans. Josh was not. “Don’t blow smoke up my ass.” Josh turned to admire herself in the mirror. “I’m not,” I argued from my perch at the corner of my bed. “My upbringing taught me some things I now know aren’t true, but it also taught me to always be honest. And honestly, when I first saw you, I couldn’t stop staring. I’d never seen anyone like you.” “You mean a black person?” Josh adjusted one of her earrings and smiled at me over her shoulder. “No, I mean someone who can be both…feminine and masculine. So strong and sturdy, but so graceful and…and pretty. A foul mouth filled with words of wisdom,” I said, folding my hands on my lap and hoping that she wasn’t offended by my explanation. “Girl, you best stop talking or we won’t even need to go out because I’m just gonna stay here and fall in love with you.” We both laughed. Josh turned back to the mirror. “I do look damned good, don’t I?” She winked at her reflection in the full-length mirror behind my bedroom door and doing a full turn so she could inspect her ass over her shoulder. She wiggled so I could see the full effect of the tight dress surrounding it. I dropped my head into my hands. “What? You think it’s too short?” she asked smoothing down the side of her dress with her hands. It was the first time she’d ever shown even the slightest crack in her wall of confidence. “No, it’s perfect. Miller is going to love it.” “This isn’t for him,” she said to my reflection in the mirror. “I just want to look nice.” “Sure it’s not.”

“Why all the moaning and groaning over there?” she asked, wrinkling her nose and applying another coat of shiny lip gloss. “You should be getting ready.” “Because it would take me renting out someone else’s body to look like that. Seriously, you make things very unfair for the rest of us.” I hesitated when she shifted her dress up her thigh to adjust the gun holster beneath. “And also, I’m slightly terrified of you.” “Only slightly?” Josh said. “I’m losing my touch. And you’re so full of shit. Here, put this on.” She opened her purse and pulled out a scrap of fabric. She tossed it to me and it landed on my head covering my eyes. I pulled it off and examined the cobalt blue…what looked like a scarf. “This came out of your purse?” I eyed the evening bag she’d just tossed her lip gloss into. “Mmmhmm,” she hummed. “Why?” “Because it’s not even a big purse. It’s like a small purse. The fancy kind you carry around in your hand.” “It’s called a clutch. You got a point coming, Say?” I stood and walked over to the mirror, holding up the ‘dress’ in front of me. It wasn’t much but I admit, the color did wonders for my eyes. “My point is that if this fit in your CLUTCH, then how is it supposed to cover these.” I waved my hand over my breasts which were currently covered by a loose fitting t-shirt. Josh flashed me a wicked smile and snatched the dress from me. “That’s the point. It’s not supposed to cover them.” A few moments later, I was showered and wearing the dress. Josh tossed me a thick robe to wear while she fussed with my hair and makeup. She tamed the natural waves in my hair to something much lighter and more manageable she called ‘beachy waves.’ I paired the dress with a borrowed pair of black sandals that wrapped around my ankle with a delicate wedge heel just a couple of inches high. I wouldn’t cave when it came to the ridiculous giraffe heels Josh tried to get me to wear. I’m glad she gave in to my refusal or else I’m pretty sure I was moments away from her bending me over and nailing them to my feet like she was shooing a horse. After Josh took a few minutes to apply some makeup to my face she turned me to face the mirror and I was shocked to find that I was still looking at me. Just a shined-up version. “I played up your eyes with a little mascara and a little liner in the corners and I put a natural gloss on because your lips are already so pink and perfect,” Josh said, resting her chin on my shoulder. “You didn’t cover them up.” I ran my fingers over my freckles. Josh smiled and smoothed down my hair. The bangle bracelets on her arm clinked together. “I’m a cop, Say.” She ran the tip of her finger around the heaviest collection of them around my right eye. “Covering up these freckles? Now that would be a damn crime.”

“Thank you,” I said softly. “Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t seen the dress on yourself yet. Stand up,” she ordered. I stood and Josh pushed the robe from my shoulders. “Hollyyyy shit,” she whispered, taking a step back to give me room to take it all in. And the only thing I could say when coming face to face with a girl who was me, but not me at the same time, was an echo of Josh’s words. “Hollyyy shit,” I whispered back. Slapping my hand over my mouth. Josh laughed at my attempt to swear. “Those legs are everything.” The fabric of the cobalt blue dress was stretchy and comfortable, but fitting, hugging my waist and breasts, but not squeezing the life from me. It was short sleeved and the hem was several inches above my knee, showing off my muscular legs and the curve of my butt. It was very feminine but almost like a t-shirt in style, complete with a small pocket right above my right breast. The neckline dropped into a soft V just low enough to see the curve of my breasts, but not too low where I’d be worrying about pulling it up all night. I felt…pretty, yet still me. “So, are you going to tell me what we’re doing tonight?” Josh asked curiously as I started taking the food items I’d bought earlier from the refrigerator, placing them onto the counter. “We’re having dinner,” I said, nodding toward the ingredients. “We didn’t have to get so dressed up if we were going to be having dinner with just the two of us,” Josh said, looking amused. “It’s not just the two of you,” Miller said, peeking in through the front door. “My stance remains the same,” Josh muttered. “Thank you for inviting me,” Miller said, handing me a bouquet of wild roses. Most of the stems were bent. “For you, madam.” “Thank you,” I said, taking the flowers. “You look handsome tonight. Doesn’t Miller look handsome?” I asked Josh. “He’s wearing a t-shirt,” she said flatly. “It’s my fancy t-shirt,” Miller explained, pointing to the bow tie printed at the neck. “It’s lovely,” I said with a laugh. “Can you help me carry this outside?” I handed Miller a basket of rolls and Josh a bottle of wine. I followed them to the deck with a cheese plate I’d cut up earlier. “Is it just the three of us?” Josh asked. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m thoroughly enjoying the girl to guy ratio in this scenario,” Miller said. “I invited Critter but he said he already had plans.”

“That didn’t answer the question,” Josh said knowingly. “No, it’s not just the three of us.” I set the wine glasses out on the table. I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. My heart thumped hard against my rib cage. My palms began to sweat. “Then who else is coming?” Miller asked. Finn stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight wearing a tight black t-shirt and jeans, his blond hair slicked back from a recent shower, his dark jeans low on his hips. “Me.”

Chapter Thirty-Two FINN

M

y friends looked me over as if they’d seen a ghost and it was fair because in a way, they had.

They looked accusingly to Sawyer, only she smiled and pretended not to feel their questioning stares. She went about pulling out chairs for us to have a seat at the table like having the four of us together was a regular occurrence. “I made lasagna,” she said, biting her lower lip, “I’ve never made one before. I followed the instructions on the box. I hope it turned out okay.” “What in the holy fuck is going on here?” Miller asked, sitting down on the little fourperson table on Sawyer’s new deck. “Is this a friendervention?” Sawyer popped a cube of cheese in her mouth and held out her hand as I approached. Once our hands connected it was as if I knew, despite everything, despite the looks of hurt and betrayal on my friends’ faces, despite the damage I’d caused, it was all going to be all right. “It’s called a dinner party,” Sawyer started. “Kayla told me about them. It’s my first time ever hosting one. Isn’t it exciting?” She clapped her hands together and bounced on the balls of her feet. If they were thinking of leaving or barking or even grumbling about the circumstances, Sawyer had pretty much made it impossible with her excitement. There was no way they were going to kill that for her. You’d have to be completely soulless to want to have any part in tearing that smile off her gorgeous face. Miller and Josh both nodded slowly, neither one of them took their eyes off me as if at any moment I was going to be wielding a knife and taking both of them hostage. “Sit, guys,” Sawyer said, as she turned to me. “Can you help me inside?” I followed her inside leaving Josh and Miller on the deck with a confused look on their faces that was almost laughable if my gut wasn’t churning. “It’s going to be fine,” Sawyer said, smiling as she bent over and pulled a tray of lasagna from the oven. I couldn’t help staring at the back of her legs and her ass when her dress rose up. She grabbed a pot holder and removed the foil from the top. The most amazing smell rose with the steam. The blue color she was wearing made her entire face and eyes light up. It didn’t hurt that she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Dress or not. “Before I forget to tell you,

you look absolutely beautiful,” I said, coming up behind her and kissing her on the head. She leaned back and inhaled my scent. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad either.” She turned in my arms and handed me two of the four salad bowls on the counter. “It really is going to be okay,” she assured me. I didn’t know if she was right or wrong but after I’d helped her see storms in a different light she insisted that she help me with my biggest fear. My friends. I laughed. “I’m a grown-ass man and I’m scared to fucking death because I have to apologize for being the world’s biggest dick to them for over two years. Why are you so confident that they’ll forgive me?” “The reason why they’re so mad at you is because they love you so much. I know they’ll forgive you. You haven’t known me long but you let me in. You’ve known them almost your entire life. Let them in, too. They’ll forgive you.” “When did you get so wise?” I asked, staring deeply into her beautiful golden-brown eyes. Eyes I could get lost in. Eyes I was already lost in. “Are you ready?” Sawyer asked, pushing open the door with her knee. “Not even a little,” I muttered, stepping outside into the moonlight and into the scrutiny of my two former best friends. We set the salad on the table. “Can you open this for me?” Sawyer asked as if she couldn’t sense the tension all around her. “I think I need to say something,” I said before I sat down. “I think that’s wise,” Miller quipped. “This is Sawyer’s housewarming dinner. I think we should enjoy it and if you’re up for it, afterward I’d like to talk to both of you. If not, we enjoy a great meal and go our separate ways.” “Did I mention it’s my first time making a lasagna?” Sawyer chimed in. “It smells great,” Josh said, taking the wine glass Sawyer handed her. Seemingly agreeing to the offer I just made without acknowledging it. Miller opened a cooler by his feet and grabbed a beer. He twisted off the top and was about to take a sip when he paused and set it on the table, sliding it over to me. “This is for you, shithead,” he muttered, grabbing another beer and cracking it open. “Thanks,” I said, taking a sip and setting it back down. “You should bash it over his fucking skull,” Josh muttered. “What was that?” Sawyer asked. Josh switched gears and smiled up at Sawyer. “I said I can’t wait to taste the lasagna.

What kind of dressing is on the salad?” Sawyer and I both sat and she beamed across the table, practically glowing with excitement. “It’s Bebe. She makes it and sells it at the farmer’s market in Brillhart County. She said it’s supposed to be like the dressing from one of those big chain Italian restaurants, but I’ve never been to one so I can’t really compare.” “It’s better,” I offered, taking a bite. Bebe really did make the best dressing. It was slightly sweet with a tangy bite. Miller and Josh both nodded and nobody spoke again until the salads were done and I helped Sawyer plate the lasagna and serve it. “Are you not going to try the wine?” Josh said, pointing to Sawyer’s still full glass even though Josh’s was still full as well. Sawyer smiled and turned her shoulders inward. “I’ve actually never had wine before. I saw a picture in the general store of a big feast and they had wine and I really liked the way it looked,” she admitted. Her confession made my heart constrict. I coughed into my fist and pointed to my food like I had a bit of pasta caught in my throat. “How have you never had wine?” Miller asked. “I mean, Josh told me that your family was all Waco and shit but don’t cult people drink?” There was a bang under the table. The pasta sauce on my plate jumped. “Ouch, what the hell?” Miller asked, glaring at Josh. “It’s okay. My family wasn’t in a cult. They lived in regular society but they are what you’d call…” she searched for the word. “Extremists?” I offered. “That’s it,” she said and I could tell she didn’t want to talk any more about her past so I tried to think of something to change the subject but luckily Josh was thinking the same thing. “I love your new house. How are you liking being a homeowner?” Josh asked. “Honestly?” Sawyer looked up at the house. “I’d like it better knowing that Sterling wasn’t the one who bought it for me.” “Sterling bought it for you?” Miller asked, scratching his head. He and Josh exchanged knowing glances. “What makes you think that?” “He…he said the investor bought it for me. The one whose been helping all the people in town keep their houses. And since he and Finn were the only ones there that day when…” she trailed off as the realization took hold. Miller winked and Josh chuckled. “It was you,” Sawyer said, glancing over to me. “How? Is it your job or something?” Her confusion was downright adorable. “You bought me a house?” All I could do in response was smile. My heart was swelling as her smile grew.

Initially I had no plans to tell her, but I couldn’t let her think that shit-bag Sterling had bought it for her and associate it with him every time she looked at it. “Finn don’t need to work, he’s the largest land owner in three counties. He leases land to the government,” Miller said between bites. He grabbed another roll from the basket and tore it open down the middle. “What?” Sawyer gaped. “But you live in…” she looked over my shoulder toward the swamp shack. “That’s not my house,” I said, pulling her down on my lap when she stood up from her chair. “That’s just his hiding place,” Josh said. “And a lousy one at that. Miller and I have known where you were from day one.” “We have?” Miller asked, sounding confused. Josh just shook her head and chuckled. “Okay, I knew where you were,” she amended. “So, is that your job? Or is it more of a passion of yours?” Sawyer asked innocently. I kissed her jaw and felt her shiver on my lap. I also felt the stares from across the table as Josh and Miller put their own two and two together and learned firsthand how serious I was about Sawyer. “My passion is you,” I told her, watching her cheeks heat between the freckles. “I have a property management company that handles everything. I get a paycheck. And sometimes I use that paycheck to invest in other properties.” “You bought me a house?” Sawyer repeated like she couldn’t believe it. “When?” “The day you saw it in the junkyard. After I dropped you off at Critter’s, I went back and talked to Sterling. Set it all up that afternoon.” “Thank you,” she said, her eyes dancing with wonderment. She looked up at her new house like she was seeing it again for the first time. My heart swelled. Something inside me was shifting, and for once, I didn’t hate the way the new emotions were slowly moving guilt and self-hatred more and more to the background. I wanted Sawyer. And more than that? I wanted to make Sawyer happy. I also wanted to make her come again. And again, and again. The vision of her coming apart in my arms during the storm was playing on a loop in my brain. I’d never seen anything so beautiful as when her body finally let go. “Speaking of Sterling,” Josh started. “He won’t be bothering you ever again. You can be sure of it.” “What did you do?” I asked. Josh smiled and tossed her hair over her shoulders, her gold bracelets clanked together and her heavy earrings swayed. “Let’s just say I did the unthinkable. The darkest, dirtiest shit you can do to someone in the south,” she said, ending on a whisper.

“Oh shit,” Miller gasped, covering his mouth and speaking into his hand. “You told his mama, didn’t you?” “I sure as shit did,” Josh smiled proudly. “She’ll do worse to him than I ever could by locking him up.” “Thank you,” Sawyer said, reaching out and giving Josh’s hand a squeeze. “No need to thank me. We’re family now.” Josh looked from Miller to Sawyer and then finally to me. “Right?” she asked with a tip of her chin. “Right.” It was a simple exchange. Only two words spoken. But with those two words, Josh was telling me we could move on. All of us. Together. “Are you going to try this?” I nodded to Sawyer’s wine glass. She looked down into her glass and sniffed it. I knew she hadn’t been lying about never having tasted wine before when she picked up her glass with two hands and lifted it to her mouth. The three of us watched her intently. It was damned adorable the way she looked at me over the rim of her glass like she was asking me if she was doing it right. I offered her a reassuring nod. Sawyer took a large gulp and swallowed. She made a face like she’d bitten into something unexpectedly sour. “This,” she looked down into her glass and grimaced, “is really disgusting.” We all laughed, including Sawyer, and the sound carried over the table and struck me right in the chest. “You’ve really never had wine before?” Josh asked, pouring herself another glass. “Nope,” Sawyer said, taking another small tentative sip. “This would be the first time.” “Oh really? What else haven’t you done before?” Miller wagged his eyebrows suggestively. Josh and I exchanged knowing side glances, Sawyer frowned, not fully understanding his unique brand of innuendo. “There are a lot of things I haven’t done. Some days I feel like I haven’t done MOST things.” Sawyer leaned forward in her chair. The breeze picked up and blew a lock of hair in her face and I was mesmerized by the pure beauty that was Sawyer. Then, as if she was reading my mind, she tucked the strand behind her ear. “What is on your list? What would you like to do?” Josh asked, steering the conversation back into the PG zone.

Sawyer bit her bottom lip and her eyes lit up. She looked whimsically at the stars as she thought over her answer. “Mostly it’s little things.” “Like what?” I found myself asking. I sipped my beer, staring at Sawyer over the bottle. “Well, I’d like to read any book I want without it being approved. Which is why I wish the library was still open. “ “If it were, I’m pretty sure you and Finn would be the only people going there,” Josh said. “Finn?” she asked, glancing up at me. “Didn’t you know? Finn here has read like every book ever,” Miller said, stabbing his fork into a cheese cube. “At least he knows how to read,” Josh muttered. “I know how to read,” Miller argued, pointing the cheese at Josh. “Maxim has more than just pictures, you know.” “What else?” I prompted, curious as to what else she could possibly have on her list. What else I could give her. How else I could make her smile. “Well, now that I’ve tasted wine…” Sawyer chuckled, taking another sip and grimacing all over again. “It’s an acquired taste,” Josh assured her. She smiled and sucked in air through her teeth. “Everything. Everything is on my list. I want to taste and experience everything life has to offer. It’s too short to waste and I’ve spent twenty-one years wasting it.” “So, you’re saying that you want to commit crimes and rob banks?” I teased. “Sure, why not?” she answered back. Holding her wine glass without drinking from it. “Nah, I don’t think you’ve got it in you,” Miller said, with his beer paused at his lips. Sawyer’s smile was spreading, she set her wine glass down. “I did steal.” “Really? Oh, this is going to be good. What did you steal?” Josh asked, pouring herself another glass. Sawyer smirked, popping out the dimple on her cheek. “I stole money from my father. Technically it was the church’s money. I took it before I left.” “So, what? You took like twenty-bucks from the collection plate?” Miller scoffed, belching loudly. Josh kicked him under the table. “Ouch, baby. Next time you’re going to hurt me make sure you do it when we’re naked.” “Try nineteen thousand dollars from the weekly church donations,” Sawyer corrected,

sitting straight in her chair. I tightened my grip on the arm of my chair and almost spit out my beer. The table was silent until Josh chimed in. “No way. You’re lying.” “It’s true. He asked me to make the deposit. Instead, I took it when I left.” “What did you do with the money?” Miller asked curiously, hanging on Sawyer’s every word. “On the way here, to Outskirts, I stopped and donated half to a battered women and children’s center and the other half to a suicide prevention call center.” Sawyer started to giggle midway through her sentence, by the time she was done she was in a full-blown bit of laughter. “Bad ass!” Miller exclaimed, raising his beer in salute before finishing it and slamming it back down on the table. “What’s so funny?” I asked Sawyer. Laughing along with her although I didn’t know why except that Sawyer’s laugh was infectious. “I made the donations in my father’s name.” Then we were all laughing along with her. The sound of Sawyer’s laughter carried straight to my heart where nothing but joy and pride were causing it to beat erratically. Noticeably absent, was my old friend guilt. “Wow, that’s ballsy.” Josh gave Sawyer a fist bump, which she awkwardly returned. Sawyer’s eye caught mine like she was waiting to hear my response to what she’d done. “I’m impressed,” I said. She beamed. And I was. My innocent girl had done something that took a hell of a lot of guts. Come to think of it, everything she did took a hell of a lot of guts. I reached out and grabbed the arm of her chair, sliding it as close to me as possible. I planted a soft but firm kiss on her plump pink lips and looked her right in her eyes, cupping her cheek in my hand. “That’s my girl.” A throat cleared. “Your girl, huh?” Miller asked, raising his eyebrows. I answered without breaking eye contact with Sawyer who was still smiling up at me. “Yeah. MY girl.”

Chapter Thirty-Three SAWYER

M

y girl.

I was downright giddy when I excused myself to go inside to grab the pie I’d baked. When I came back out onto the deck the three old friends were laughing about some memory from their childhood and although I had no idea what they were talking about I smiled and laughed right along with them. I couldn’t remember ever having this much fun during a meal. Miller was still talking as he put a pink pill on the table and started crushing it with the back of his spoon before using a rolled-up dollar bill to snort the powder up his nose. Finn looked unaffected by his behavior, like he’d seen it a thousand times before, while the look on Josh’s face was that of disapproval and annoyance as she glared down at Miller who was snorting lines off the table. “What?” Miller asked when he noticed Josh was watching him. Finn chuckled and squeezed my knee. She waved a hand over the powder on the table. “Oh that?” Miller asked. “It’s just Ritalin. It’s for my ADHD,” he nodded at his own statement and snorted another line with his eyes defiantly glued to Josh’s. Josh snatched the pill bottle from Miller’s pocket. She tapped a nail against the label. “Oh yeah, it says right here to crush three tablets twice a day and snort with food,” she said sarcastically. “Can you at least pretend you have respect for the fact that I’m a cop.” “Yes, as soon as you can show some respect for my chosen profession,” Miller said, with his powder covered nose in the air. “Your profession?” Josh questioned. “Yes, well, one of them anyway.” “Drug dealer?” Josh chimed in. “You mean that one?” “I like to consider myself more of a sommelier of narcotics.” He sniffled. “I don’t see you giving Finn shit about smoking weed.” “Because it’s WEED you moron. It’s legal in some states. And please. Remember one thing, I’m giving you SHIT about it. I’m not arresting you for it.”

“Well, that is a good thing because…” Miller started. “YET,” she interrupted, pinning him to the back of his chair with her hardened glare. “You wouldn’t,” Miller whispered dramatically, drawing out the words slowly as he leaned away from Josh. “Try me.” I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t laugh. “If you arrest me I’ll take that to mean we aren’t getting married and having babies,” Miller said. “You talk a big game, but you do realize you’ve never so much as asked me out,” Josh announced suddenly, stunning everyone at the table including Miller who looked downright offended. “I have too!” Miller argued. Josh rolled her eyes. “Oh please, inviting me for tacos, tequila, and anal isn’t asking me out.” Miller’s jaw dropped. He held a hand over his chest. “I think it sounds like a perfectly romantic way to spend an evening. You’re just too picky.” “Maybe I am,” she shrugged. “Well then maybe you should just stick with pussy,” Miller groaned. Josh stood from the chair and narrowed her gaze at him, holding her stare until he looked up and jumped when he found her standing directly above him. “What?” he asked, shifting in his chair. “Maybe you should stop BEING a pussy,” Josh spat. And with that, she was gone, across the clearing, heading for Finn’s shack. Miller looked back and forth between Finn and then me. “What the fuck just happened?” Miller asked. “I think you just got rejected. AGAIN,” Finn said, cracking open a beer. “Fuccckkkk…I already offered tacos, sushi, and anal. What else is there?” Miller asked dropping his head to his hands. “No, that’s not it at all. She didn’t reject you,” I interjected. “She didn’t?” both Miller and Finn asked at the same time. I shook my head. “Nope.” “Then…what DID happen?” Miller asked. Both him and Finn leaned forward in their chairs. I took a sip of my beer and smiled. “I think she just told you to bring your A game.” Miller growled something inaudible and followed Josh over to Finn’s cabin. “Thank you for all this,” I said, once we were alone. “You didn’t have to buy me a

house just to get me to like you. I liked you right from the beginning, even when I thought I didn’t.” “I didn’t do it to get you to like me. I did it because I wanted to make you happy. I wanted to make you feel good,” Finn said. “Why?” “Because,” he turned his chair toward mine so our knees were touching. “I’ve learned that when I make you feel good it makes me feel good too.” I swallowed hard. “It does?” “In fact, I’ll show you…” He leaned in. Our lips were only a hair’s breadth apart when a bang broke through the space between us and echoed across the clearing. “Was that…a gunshot?” I called out to Finn who was already racing across to the shack. “Stay behind me,” he ordered as I followed him. Finn cast me a worried side glance as we reached the porch of the shack. “I sure as hell hope not.”

Chapter Thirty-Four SAWYER

o-lee shit,” Finn said suddenly. Stopping so abruptly I ran right into his back as he “H gazed through the screen door without making a move to step inside. “What?” I asked, curious as to what had gotten his attention. I stepped in front of him and the scene in the kitchen had me gasping. “Ho-lee shit,” I repeated Finn’s earlier sentiment in a whisper. He covered my mouth with his big palm although I think I could’ve shouted and the two people in the kitchen wouldn’t have heard me, their attentions fixated solely on one another. Finn chuckled softly. “I knew it,” he muttered. He pulled me to the side of the house out of view. However, when I turned back around I could still see Miller and Josh clearly through a crack in the siding. They were stark naked. Josh’s back was against the kitchen counter, her head tilted back, her lips parted in excess. Miller stood between her spread thighs relentlessly pounding himself into her. His butt muscles clenched with each rhythmic thrust. “We probably shouldn’t be watching this,” I whispered, unable to pull my eyes away. I took a step back directly into Finn’s hard chest. Instead of stepping back and giving me room to flee Finn surprised me by placing his hands on my shoulders and walking me right up to the living room window where we now had front row seats to the sexiest show I’d ever seen. I swallowed hard and gasped when Finn wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me back against him. “Do you like what you see?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse. His hands wrapped loosely around my throat. “I…I’m not sure,” I answered breathlessly, confused by my reaction to both flee and watch. “I hate the fact that my first reaction to this was hearing my father’s voice in my head telling me that what they’re doing is shameful. That my body is shameful.” Finn tensed. “Say, sex is not shameful. It’s two people wanting to make each other feel good. To give them pleasure. And I will tell you right fucking now that there isn’t a thing about YOU that is shameful. You’re beautiful, and feminine, and soft, and your body is something to be proud of, to enjoy.” He ran his hand down my side, heating my skin everywhere he touched. I shivered.

“Sex, making love, fucking, whatever you want to call it. It’s normal. Natural.” Finn glanced back inside. “Well, other than it being Miller and Josh doing it. There is nothing normal when it comes to those two,” he joked, his breath hot against my ear. Finn moved my hair off my shoulder and pressed his lips against my neck. He trailed his lips from the base of my neck right behind my ear and I felt myself pushing back against him. He bit down on my skin between my neck and shoulder. I moaned when the sensation sent a shot of pleasure between my legs. Finn responded by grasping me tighter against him. “Don’t you dare allow your past, your father, to make you feel ashamed for something we all think of. Something we all want.” He sucked the tip of my ear into his mouth before trailing his tongue down the same path his lips had taken seconds before. All the air left my lungs and I closed my eyes, the sensations too much to bear. My nipples pressed painfully against my dress. My thoughts swam around in my head with no purpose, drunk on Finn’s scent of rain and soap. I felt my stomach begin to flip the way it had during the storm. I suddenly felt like we were intruding on a private moment. “If you’re curious and you want to watch, then watch,” Finn said, like he’d been reading my thoughts. He cupped my jaw and turned me to face the scene in the kitchen once again. Josh rolled her hips as Miller continued to thrust hard inside of her. He was holding her long legs up, his biceps flexing every time he entered and withdrew from her body. “Isn’t it wrong to watch?” I asked breathlessly, all too aware of the crackling tension in the air all around us. Finn chuckled. “They’re in my kitchen with the front door open. I don’t think they’re trying to hide anything at this point.” He kept his lips against my neck and moved his hand to the front of my thigh. Ever so slowly he began to trail it up the sensitive flesh at the inside of my leg, teasing the skin under the hem of my dress. He nuzzled his nose into my hair and inhaled deeply. “Do you ever think of… doing that to me?” I asked in a breathless whisper. Finn stilled. “Only every goddamn minute since the second I first saw you,” he groaned. He spun me around, pushed me up against the wall and covered my lips with his. Our tongues danced while his hands explored my body, pushing up my dress and squeezing my breasts. He swallowed my cry of surprise as white-hot pleasure washed over me when he lightly pinched my nipple. “I think about being inside of you more than I think about anything else,” Finn confessed against my lips, then my neck. He pulled back, the hot night air cooling where his kisses had just been. His chest heaved up and down and he looked me right in my eyes like he was about to devour me. “Do YOU think about it? Do you think about me making you come again?” “Yes. I think…I think I want you to do that to me. US to do that. Together,” I

confessed, unable to catch my breath. Finn’s jaw dropped. He pushed his knee between my legs and stepped between them. “There isn’t an expiration on this,” he said, searching my eyes. “On US. I’ll wait for you. For when you’re ready. I need you to know that.” “I do,” I gasped as he rocked against me harder. “But you know how I told you about everything I wanted to experience? When we were in the swamp? Well, I left one thing off.” “And what would that be?” Finn asked. I blushed with embarrassment. “You have to say it, Say. It’s how this works. I can’t guess. Not when it comes to us. THIS. It’s too important to make assumptions. I’ve fucked up enough in my life and this is one thing I really don’t want to fuck up.” I wanted to drop into a hole in the porch but Finn rocked against me, urging me on. “My first time. I wanted it to be you. With YOU,” I said. “I…I WANT you.” The words were barely out of my mouth when Finn’s lips covered mine again in a kiss so consuming it felt as if he was touching me everywhere. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” Finn murmured against my lips. “Do you trust me?” Finn asked, his eyes dark. His breath ragged. “Yes,” I answered because it was true. I trusted him with my body. And with my heart. Finn gently pushed me back up against the wall so that my back was flush against the house. He reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down to reveal his massive erection straining against the stretchy material of his tight black boxers. My eyes widened at the sight. My core clenched. I didn’t know what his plan was but I hoped whatever it was wouldn’t hurt, but I didn’t see how that would be possible. Finn hiked my dress up to my waist and again fit himself between my legs, this time he lifted me so that the heat of my core was flush with his hardness with only the fabric of our undergarments separating us. Finn’s eyes locked on mine. His breath was my breath. His need was my need as he began to rock against my sensitive nub, dragging himself against the heat of my folds. I felt him throb against the damp fabric separating us and I moaned, covering my mouth with my hand. “They’re a little too busy to hear you, Say,” Finn chuckled. He looked me in the eyes as he lifted me up and dropped me down again and again until stars formed behind my eyelids and my vision blurred. I was awash in pleasure and my senses were on overload. All I could feel, smell, see, taste, was Finn. My body ached. My heart was about to explode. The way his body felt pressed against mine. The way he looked at me. If the world came crashing down around us we wouldn’t have noticed or cared because right then and there we were the only two people who mattered.

“Come, Say. You’re so fucking beautiful when you come for me.” The cords in his neck tightened and just as I was about to reach the edge he put his lips back over mine to swallow my cries of pleasure as I burst apart in his arms, clenching and contracting with only the tip of his manhood against me like it was inviting him inside my body. The thought sent an entirely new wave of pleasure over me and I shuddered, riding out every bit of what Finn had given me. “That’s my girl,” Finn groaned. He tensed. His hardness throbbed and a flush of hot wetness exploded between us, soaking the already wet fabric separating us. Finn held me against his chest and made no move to clean either of us up as we caught our breaths. That is, until my curiosity got the better of me and I found myself needing to ask Finn something. “What would it feel like if I did that…” “Come, I think the word you’re looking for is come,” Finn said, still breathless. He kissed the top of my head. “Come,” I said. Finn sucked in a breath as I played with the word in my mouth. “What would it feel like if I were to come while you were inside of me?” Finn closed his eyes and I felt his hardness twitch between us. “Don’t ask me things like that, Say.” “Why not?” I asked, blinking rapidly. “Because it sounds way too good coming out of your sweet mouth. And I’m teetering on the edge as it is.” He chuckled. “But I can tell you what it would feel like.” “What?” I asked. He pushed a stray hair from my eyes, tucking it behind my ear. He smiled down at me. “It would feel like heaven.” The door creaked open. Finn tucked himself back in his jeans, lowered me to the ground, and straightened my dress in record time. He sat down on one of the rocking chairs and pulled me down on top of him, draping me over his lap. Miller appeared on the porch, running his hands through his hair and cursing to himself. Finn looked completely unaffected by what had just happened between us while I knew I looked like I’d just had my world turned upside down and back again. Hair disheveled. Skin flushed. I tried to act casual, crossing my legs at the ankles. I tried very hard not to think about the humming sensation still surging through my body. “Hey,” Miller said when he spotted us, freezing for a moment and looking at us curiously. He pulled on his black t-shirt over his head. His belt hung loosely from his belt loops. He cleared his throat and raised his voice and I assume it was so he could alert Josh of our presence. “You guys been here long?”

“Nope. Just got here,” I said, pressing my lips together guiltily. I avoided eye contact with Miller and gazed out over at my house instead, knowing that the second our eyes met he would be able to see right through me. “Yep, just got here, thought it would be nice to sit on the porch for a bit and listen to the…” A glowing light hanging in the corner chose that moment to make a loud popping noise. “Bug zapper,” Finn said with a laugh. “Bug zapper?” Miller’s gaze darted from Finn to me and back again. “What’s really going on out here?” “Nothing,” both Finn and I answered at the same time. Miller held out his arms to his sides. “You fucking saw us, didn’t you?” Thankfully Josh came storming outside just then and we didn’t have to answer. “I can’t wait anymore. I don’t have time for this shit, Miller.” “Not again,” Miller grumbled. “What the fuck is going on, Josh? You’ve been a bigger bitch than usual lately.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, probably thinking we couldn’t hear him. He was wrong. “And this was the first time we’d fucked in like two whole days. I told you we just need to work out the time…” Josh turned toward us slowly as she realized we were there. “Shit.” She cringed. “I need to go. Lovely dinner, Sawyer. See you later, Finn.” Josh made a move to leave, but spun back around and narrowed her eyes at Miller. “And YOU. You’ve had nothing BUT time. Ten goddamn years to be exact. And all you’ve managed to do in over a decade is occasionally break my fucking heart. I’m done.” “Josh, stop. Please,” Miller begged, reaching out for her again. She shook him off. “No! Not this time. I tossed my heart away when I fell in love with you when we were kids. I’m not going to make that mistake again. I can’t wait for you to grow up anymore.” Josh took off in her truck, spinning mud high into the air as she left. Miller stood on the porch like he was in a daze, gaping after her. It was the first time I’d seen him stand still. “I think I fucked up,” Miller said to no one in particular, staring off at the trees as if he were still looking at Josh’s truck which was long gone. “It sure seems that way,” Finn said, shifting me so he could close his jeans and pulling down his shirt to cover the wetness. I stood up and adjusted my dress while Finn went over to Miller and clapped him on the shoulder. “What did you do?” “It’s more like what didn’t I do.” Miller flashed me the saddest smile. “I can’t lose her.” His voice was broken and cracked. “So, don’t,” Finn said. “Fight for her.” “I will. I have to get her back.” Miller’s eyes widened with his epiphany. His shoulders squared, his spine straightened.

“Did you ever really have her?” Finn asked. “Because I know I’ve been out of the loop for a while, but I’ll be honest. I’m confused as fuck right now.” Miller sighed. “Dude, we’ve been fucking for over a decade. She’s my GIRL,” he said, defensively. I leaned against his shoulder. “But does Josh know that?” Miller scoffed. “Of course, she…” He paused and ran both hands through his hair, lacing his fingers together on the top of his head. “Shit,” he cursed. Suddenly he was airborne, hopping over the porch rail. “She’s about to find the fuck out!” he called back with newfound determination. “See you guys later. It really was a great dinner, Sawyer!” Miller drove off, fishtailing through the mud. “You think whatever he’s planning is going to work?” I asked Finn. He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “I’d bet on him taking a bullet before I’d bet on their happily ever after. But what the hell do I know?” “I hope you’re wrong.” I leaned back into him. Finn sighed and kissed my temple. “I hope I am too.”

Chapter Thirty-Five SAWYER

M

ist rose like steam off the damp ground like it was making an offering to the sky. A prayer for night to become morning once again. The sun answered by rising slowly until its rays burst from behind the tallest of trees, bathing everything in its blessing of light and warmth. Turning the dark into light once again. It was while looking at that kind of beauty, that kind of wondrous creation when I couldn’t NOT believe in something or someone more of a higher power. Church wasn’t something I had any plans on stepping foot in again, but I would kneel at the altar of the sound of the birds singing their early morning song, the splash of fish in the water of the swamp behind Finn’s house, the smell of the moss dripping from the trees. I shifted the box I was carrying and took a deep breath, absorbing all that an early morning in Outskirts had to offer. “What kind of festival is this?” I asked Josh who seemed lost in her own thoughts as well. “You’ll see. But does it even matter?” Josh was practically skipping. “I don’t have to wear my uniform today and the sun’s out. That’s a win for today. I’ll take it.” “What about Mill…” Josh stopped abruptly. “No. We will not talk about him today. I’m not going to let him ruin it for me.” She started walking again and I followed. “Is Finn coming?” I shook my head. “I don’t think so. When I mentioned the festival, he kissed me.” Josh raised an eyebrow. “It’s his way of distracting me or changing the subject,” I clarified. “But he seems off. He’s been protective. More than before. He doesn’t want me being alone.” “Maybe he just wants you with him?” I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s it. It’s okay if I’m with you or Critter or even Miller but he gets that pained look in his eye whenever I say I’m doing something alone.” “Maybe he’s afraid you’re going to run off,” Josh pointed out. “You came into town like a leaf on the wind. Maybe he’s just afraid you’re going to leave that way too.”

“Maybe…” I said, thinking that there had to be more to it than that. “Soooo…have you two…” Josh trailed off, pressing her lips together. “What?” I asked. “Have you two had…” I waited for her to finish, but she continued to stare at me expectantly. Finally, she took the box from my hand and looked me in the eye. She spoke clearly and matter-of-factly. “Have you and Finn had sexual intercourse?” My ears and neck burned. “Uh…” I shifted from foot to foot looking anywhere but at Josh. “I’ll take that as a no.” Josh started walking again. She dropped off the box in front of one of the many vendor tents lining Main Street. “I wasn’t asking to embarrass you,” she paused. “Listen, I’ve never had a sister and my mom’s version of sexual advice was ‘keep your pants on.’” She chuckled. “I just wanted to let you know that if you have any questions about sex or about anything that I’m here for you, kind of like the sister you never had and probably never wanted.” “Thanks,” I said, laughing with her. I felt lighter. Josh had become more than just a person who was kind to me. “I already think of you as family.” “Ditto,” Josh smiled, hooking her arm through mine. “Now let’s hurry up and help Bebe set up so we can have ourselves some fun.” Vendor tents and tables lined Main Street for a quarter mile in both directions. A banner was being hoisted over the street. When it fully unfolded I laughed at what it said. “Outskirts Festival of the Swamp Yeti?” I asked, glancing to Josh. “Yep,” Josh shrugged. “It’s a tradition. People come from all over the state. The food is great. The beer is cold and the music usually isn’t horrible either.” She pointed to a simple stage blocking the end of the road. The street in front was left open. An elderly couple was already sitting in folding chairs watching the men set up instruments and lighting on the stage. The festival wasn’t set to start for at least another hour but Josh had promised Bebe she’d help set up her stand so I tagged along. Bebe looked relieved when we showed up to help and she quickly put us to work setting up a miniature version of her store, complete with clothes alongside her homemade soaps and jams. Josh turned to slip an empty box under the table of Bebe’s booth and knocked right into someone dressed from head to toe in dark brown fur. “I see you came to my festival today young lady. Are you ready to worship your swamp Yeti god?” Josh rolled her eyes and the Yeti took off his head, revealing a sweaty Miller underneath. “Damn this thing is hot,” he said, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead. “The beer tent just opened,” Josh said to me and Bebe. “I’ll be right back.” She sauntered out of the tent, swaying her hips.

Miller watched her until Bebe cleared her throat. “Uh, I gotta go do…that…too…” he was still trailing off when he took off after her. “Those two.” Bebe shook her head. She unpacked a beautiful emerald green sundress with thin straps that tied over the shoulders and a short skirt. “Here,” she said, tossing it to me. “This will look great with your hair.” “Oh, no, I couldn’t,” I said, passing her back the dress. Bebe put her hand on her hip. “It will help me,” she said, continuing to take out clothes from the box and arrange them on the display table. “If anyone asks where you got it, you send them over to see me.” I grabbed a stack of flyers. “I’ll pass these out too.” “Now go change,” Bebe said, pointing to Critter’s Bar across the street. “The music is about to start. It’s my favorite part.” I darted off to Critter’s and changed in the bathroom, storing my tank top and shorts in the back-storage closet for safe keeping. Bebe was right. The green of the sundress made my auburn hair seem more red than brown. It was fitted at the waist and flared out, the hem ending several inches above my knee. It even looked great paired with my brown boots. The top showed off a little cleavage which made me question whether I should put my tank top back on underneath, but I took a deep breath and told that voice to shut it. I wasn’t going to let any doubt stand in the way of me having a good time at my first festival ever in a town I’d fallen head over heels in love with. “Holy shit,” Finn said, appearing in the mirror behind me wearing jeans and a tight white t-shirt. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and pressed his lips behind my ear. “You look incredible.” I shivered, as warmth stirred in my stomach. Speaking of falling in love. “I think THIS will look perfect with your dress,” Finn said, placing a dainty gold necklace around my neck and clasping it in the back under my hair. But it wasn’t just any necklace. It was my mother’s. The sunflower pendant gleamed. “You found it!” I exclaimed, turning around to Finn and rubbing it between my fingers. “This morning,” he said. “I know how upset you were when you lost it. I borrowed Miller’s metal detector and found it under some brush in about an inch of water. I polished it up, figured you’d like it better without an inch of mud caked to it.” “Thank you,” I said, still not believing that I had it back. The magnetic energy between us hummed. My lips parted. Finn’s eyes darkened. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before I keep you from experiencing your very first Swamp Yeti Festival,” Finn said, grabbing me by the hand and leading me outside. The instant he touched me that indescribable connection between us took hold.

“You’re coming to the festival?” I asked, my jaw hanging open. “I didn’t think you wanted to come.” There were a lot more people starting to arrive; when we got out into the light I could no longer see pavement on the street. Just bodies. Finn stopped and pulled me against him in the middle of the street. He kissed my lips softly and looked deeply into my eyes. “I came for you.” I smiled up at Finn and stood on my tiptoes to press my own kiss against his lips. “Thank you,” I breathed. I was so wrapped up in Finn that it took me a moment to register the many, many faces of the people around us who’d stopped what they were doing to watch us and whisper to one another. “Why are they staring at us?” I asked without moving my lips. “Haven’t you heard?” Finn asked, playfully wagging his eyebrows. “Spotting me is rarer than a sighting of the Swamp Yeti.” He smiled and it was big and genuine and I could look at it forever. My heart fluttered in my chest. On the stage was a man with a guitar singing a slow song. His voice was deep and melodic. The song was about being carried away. “George Strait,” Finn said when he saw me watching the musician. He swayed his hips to the music with his arms wrapped around me and I followed. “I don’t exactly know how to dance,” I admitted. “Doesn’t feel that way to me,” Finn said, flashing me a wink. He twirled me around and I laughed as he pulled me back into him. “Feels like you’ve got moves you don’t even know about yet.” His eyes darkened. “And for the record, I intend to discover each and every one of them.” I shuddered. We stayed there in the middle of the crowd dancing and laughing until a new song came on. The woman was singing about being taken back to church. “What’s your take on religion now? On God?” Finn asked me. We weren’t so much dancing anymore as holding one another in the middle of the street while couples danced around us. “I’m not sure what I believe in,” I answered honestly. “I think that whatever someone chooses to believe in it should be something that makes them feel good. Happy. Something that makes their lives better when they think about it. It shouldn’t be something that makes you afraid. Fear shouldn’t be involved in faith. Being a decent human only because you’re afraid of what will happen to you still makes you a bad person, just a bad one pretending to be a good one. It should like…it should be like this!” I exclaimed when a new song began. Finn looked up to the stage then back to me. “H.O.L.Y. by Florida Georgia Line,” he said. “Yes. It should make you feel like this!” I said as the music grew louder. “Music. Dancing. None of that was allowed. But how did I ever live without it?” I closed my eyes.

Finn chuckled softly as we began to sway again. Midway through the song I’d memorized the chorus and was quietly singing along. When the music stopped I looked up to Finn whose eyes were on mine. His lips were parted. At first, I thought he was frowning, but then he lifted me into his arms and kissed me. Deeply. Passionately. Lovingly. He kissed me like we weren’t in front of the entire town and couldn’t hear the whispers of the people all around us.

Chapter Thirty-Six SAWYER

F

inn was standing by the beer tent with Miller while I distributed the rest of Bebe’s flyers to the crowd.

Anytime I looked in his direction I found him talking to either Miller or Josh but staring at me. I liked that he watched me. I liked that he looked after me. But I still couldn’t shake the uneasiness I’d been feeling about why he was being so protective. I’d just handed out my last flyer when the band stopped playing and voices without the backing of instruments filtered through the air. I looked up to the stage to see both men and women on either side of the stage standing on bleacher-style risers. They were smiling and clapping and singing with a passion and power like I’d never heard before. I watched their entire performance as if I were in a trance. I was frozen. Mesmerized by the power and conviction of their voices. A man about my age with a military style haircut and perfectly pressed khaki pants, sang his heart out about Jesus and a sparrow while the rest of the group sang softly in the background. I couldn’t help but smile when they started to sway from side to side. The was clapping the only background music while the young man finished out the song on a high note that grabbed the entire town’s attention. The applause was loud when they were finished and I clapped right along with everyone else. “Please put your hands together once again for the Christian Town Center Youth Choir!” the MC said into the microphone. More cheering. The man went on to introduce the next act, and I went to go find Finn. The crowd was even thicker than before. I couldn’t even see the beer tent anymore through all the bodies blocking the way. I turned only to bump right into another body on the way. “I’m sorry,” I said, looking up to find the young man who was just singing. “No problem. It’s my fault. I saw you watching the performance. I hope you liked it,” he said. The crowd bumped his back and he stepped forward. We were almost touching.

I glanced around. Still no Finn. “I did. I’ve never heard music like that before. I really enjoyed it. You’re a great singer.” “Thank you. I’m PJ and I’m the Youth Minister at our church. It’s a couple of counties over but you should come visit us one Sunday. I think you’d like our service.” I shook my head. “I like the music, but I think I’ll skip on the service for now. Thanks for the invitation though.” I went to push past him but the crowd was blocking me in. PJ leaned down closer. He was smiling a straight white smile. He placed his hand on my arm and guided me closer, his grip light, but unwelcome. “I saw the way you looked at us. The way you looked at me. I think we could have a lot of fun. Can you sing? Music is a big part of the service and a big part of what we do at Christian Town Center. Every other Sunday we have a different…” PJ kept talking but I’d zoned him out. I wasn’t on high alert, but I wasn’t comfortable either. I just wanted to getaway and get back to Finn. I looked around PJ for another way out but I couldn’t spot one. I’d just have to push my way through. PJ was still talking. “And then after I can take you to prayer circle where we…” “I really have to go,” I said, pulling away one last time and trying to push through the crowd when he spun me back around by my waist. PJ smiled. “But I haven’t told you about the youth program yet. We spread the word of…” Suddenly the crowd parted like the red sea and Finn appeared, his nostrils flaring. He ripped PJ’s grip from my waist and shoved him violently to the ground. Finn wrapped an arm around me possessively and guided me through the crowd that stepped out of his way as we moved through it. We walked right by Bebe’s booth where Miller and Josh momentarily stopped their arguing to watch us pass. “Oh shit,” Josh muttered. “Finn, I’m fine,” I said, but he didn’t seem to be listening. We were well past the crowd when Finn took out a key and opened the front door to the library which surprised me, but he didn’t give me time to question him when he pulled me inside, shut the door, and pushed me up against it, caging me in with his arms on both sides of my head. He looked me over the same way he did after Sterling tried to assault me. “I’m fine,” I assured him yet again. “He was just talking. The crowd made it hard to get away. You didn’t have to do that. He wasn’t trying to hurt me.” A vein in Finn’s neck still throbbed. “I can’t lose you,” he cupped my face in his hand. “You’re not going to lose me,” I assured him seeing pain and heartbreak in his eyes, causing my own chest to grow heavy with ache. “But this isn’t really about the singer talking to me or wanting my attention, is it?” I pressed. Finn looked to the floor. “I just have to protect you because…” “Then protect me, but you can’t go around shoving everyone to the ground who talks to me,” I explained. “And you have to let me live. I understand your need to protect me

but you can’t prevent me from living my life.” “Trust me, I don’t want to prevent you from living your life. That’s not what this is about.” “Then what is this about, Finn?” I bent at the knee and ducked under Finn’s arm. I crossed the room and turned to face him. The light through the dusty windows shone on Finn’s face when he turned to face me. He looked tired. Tormented. “I don’t want to scare you. I’m sorry about pushing that kid. I know you don’t like violence. I never want to remind you of your father,” Finn grumbled. The words from my mother’s letter rang through my mind as if she were next to me right there in the library, whispering the words in my ear. I have learned in my life that there are two kinds of people. The weak and the strong. Those who are truly strong try and lift others to make them feel just as strong. Those who are weak do their best to make others feel as helpless as they do. Surround yourself with the strong. Fall in love with the strong. “You could never remind me of my father! He wasn’t just a controlling alcoholic who liked to use his fists more than his words.” Finn cringed. “My father was the devil himself, preaching down to me and my mother from a pulpit of lies. You’ve never once made me feel small or embarrassed or afraid of you. You’re absolutely nothing like my father. Not on your very worst day.” Finn’s shoulders dropped like he was relieved to hear me say those words. But there was more. I felt it filling the space between us. “This is about Jackie, isn’t it?” I asked. Finn’s eyes shot up to mine. “It is,” I confirmed without him saying a word. “You want to save me because you still feel responsible for not being able to save her. Is that it?” I took a step closer, feeling frustrated that he still blamed himself. Finn peered down at me with a million emotions behind his beautiful blue eyes, each one more heartbreaking than the next. “I have to protect you.” Was all he managed to say. His eyes darted to an open book on the table. I leaned over and read the chapter heading. DEPRESSION AND GENES HOW SUICIDE CAN BE HEREDITARY AND WHY I pointed to the book. “Is this what this is all about? You’re afraid I’m going to kill

myself like my mother did?” I took a step forward. “Like Jackie did?” Finn flinched. “I don’t want to die! If I wanted to die I would have stayed under my father’s roof until he either beat the will to live out of my body or killed me himself. But I came here. Because I want to LIVE.” Finn looked away, but I stood on my tiptoes and pulled him to face me, pressing my chest against his. “You deserve better than me,” he said, his voice a whisper. “That’s not true,” I argued, “but even if it was true,” I brushed my lips over his, “I choose you.” “I just don’t want to lose you. I don’t think…” he paused and cupped my face in both of his hands. “I don’t think I could survive that again.” We were so close we were breathing each other in. Feeling each other’s anguish. Hurt. Pain. “I don’t want you mistaking your guilt over what happened to Jackie with whatever this is between us,” I said. “Jackie was important to you, Finn. It’s okay to talk about her. It’s okay to talk about her with me. It’s okay to still love her, but don’t let how you feel about her confuse how you feel about me because I’m not her. Sure, I’ve been hurt, but I’m not depressed. I’m stronger for what I’ve been through. I’m stronger because of you.” Finn’s hands dropped from my face and skated down my arms. “I’m not a ghost and I won’t compete with one. It’s not possible.” I pulled away and took a few steps back, needing space to think. To breathe. “Whatever this is?” Finn asked, too calmly. Too quietly. He came up behind me, spun me around and walked me backward until my butt was against a table and I had no choice but to prop myself up and sit on it so I wouldn’t be crushed against it. “Whatever this is, makes my heart beat fast and my mind race,” Finn growled. “Whatever this is has me questioning how and why someone like you came into my life. You’re beautiful, Sawyer, inside and out. You shine like the fucking sun. You’re innocent and warm and bright and everything good in this world. You brighten something in my heart that’s been broken and dark for a very long time.” He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me against him. “Do I still feel guilty about Jackie? Yes, I do. But since I met you the reason why I feel guilty has changed.” “How?” I asked, breathlessly, feeling the power of both his body and words as they both pressed against me. “I could never move on before because I felt like if she couldn’t, then I shouldn’t either. But now? Now I feel guilty because,” his nose brushed mine, “as much as I loved Jackie, things were never right between us. And we might have grown into adults together, but our relationship was juvenile at best. Still just two kids trying to make shit work on our very best day.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “I know that now and it’s not JUST because I love you…” It’s not just because I LOVE you.

All the breath from my lungs left with a whoosh I could almost hear. I sat there with my mouth agape, my heart beating out of control and my thighs trembling. There was both pain and love in his voice before he crushed his lips to mine. “But, because I love you more.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven SAWYER

F

inn thrust his hips against me and I threw my head back with a gasp. “That gasp is mine. This mouth is mine. YOU. ARE. MINE,” Finn rasped.

As much as his words stirred something in the depths of my body, something in my mind wasn’t sitting right. “I don’t belong to anyone, Finn,” I argued, breathing hard. “I’m not a possession. I can’t be owned.” “You’re right. You’re not a possession,” he said. “But you DO belong to me. I may not own you like some car or a house, but you ARE mine.” He placed his hand over his chest and lowered his voice. His eyes gleamed. “The same way my lungs or my heart is mine. You are a part of me, Sawyer. And in that way, you do belong to me.” I felt the fight leaving me and my body meld against his. “Tell me you’re mine,” he said, his words whispered across my neck. His fingers trailing up my thighs, pushing my dress up with them. My body hummed with awareness. With want. With NEED. “Tell me,” he demanded, grazing his teeth over my collarbone. “I’m yours. I’m yours!” I admitted on a cry. I pulled Finn’s head up so I met his eyes. I needed him to see the truth in my words. “I’ve always been yours.” A guttural sound vibrated from deep within Finn’s throat. “I need you,” he groaned, his lips descended on mine. His tongue sought entrance as he devoured my mouth like he was invading it. Claiming it. Owning it. Finn’s hands were everywhere. Under my dress, kneading my breasts, then they were lifting it up over my head before tossing it to the floor. Finn unclasped my bra and wasted no time pushing me back onto the table. “So fucking beautiful,” he moaned before licking his way around each of my nipples. The feeling shot directly between my legs and I felt myself growing wetter and wetter as the need built up inside me to an entirely new level.

Finn lifted me up off the table and lowered me to the floor, tugging off my panties in one quick motion. He parted my knees with his hands, opening me up to feel his rigid hardness against my sensitive skin through his jeans when he crawled over me and kissed me deeply. His mouth devoured my lips, our tongues dancing together, melding like they belonged intertwined. He released my mouth only to kiss and lick and suck a hot trail down my body until he paused with his mouth hovering just over the throbbing need between my shaking thighs. Every single thing that Finn was doing to me I felt not only within my body, but in my mind, in my heart. He wasn’t just making me feel, he was opening my eyes and it was like for the first time I was able to see clearly. Finn licked my center in one long languid stroke sending a jolt of pleasure pulsing through me. It was so powerful I arched off the floor, the muscles deep in my core pulsed. “You taste incredible,” Finn groaned, and this time when his lips connected with my sensitive flesh he not only licked, he sucked. Lightly placing a thumb and index finger on each side of my opening he pushed his fingers together and covered my sex with his mouth, sucking and licking in a front to back motion that had me squeezing my eyes shut. Colored light danced behind my eyelids just like lightning although I wasn’t running from this fear. I was running toward it. Toward Finn. Finn licked me faster. Sucked harder. The pleasure was so intense I hadn’t realized I was arching my back until Finn reached up to hold me down by my hip while he continued to send me closer and closer to an edge I didn’t know existed until him, yet every time he made me come it was more intense than the last. “That feels…” I heard myself say, my voice deep and smoky, filled with the intensity of everything I was feeling but I couldn’t bring myself to finish my sentence. “It feels…” Finn lifted his mouth, leaving my wet folds exposed. My insides contracted at the loss of contact. He pulled off his t-shirt by the back hem and tossed it to the floor, exposing his ridiculously defined shoulders and biceps, his many rows of sculpted abs that led all the way to the exposed V poking out from faded jeans hanging low on his hip. His eyes were focused between my thighs at the wetness he’d caused. His eyelids heavy, his gaze so intense I shivered. My mouth watered at the sight of him and my fingers itched to touch him. I sat up and trailed my fingertips down the many ridges of his torso. Finn kissed me again. “Fuck, Sawyer,” he groaned against my mouth, palming and kneading my breasts, making my nipples ache. “I want you,” he moaned between kisses. “So fucking much.” “Then take me,” I breathed. “It doesn’t have to be now,” Finn said, his neck corded. “It doesn’t have to be right here.” I could tell he was on the brink of his control.

“Finn,” I said, gazing up into his eyes and not seeing guilt or sadness there like it was when I first met him. Only desire and love shone from his beautiful blue eyes. “I’m yours.” Finn didn’t waste time. He reached for his belt and unbuckled it, popping the button on his fly and pushing his jeans down over his toned butt cheeks. His massive erection sprang free and the intensity of our connection continued to grow. The humming was now a loud buzz of electricity between us. Finn lowered himself down on top of me between my legs. His hard chest against my soft breasts. The feeling of his warm soft skin surrounding his long hard shaft pressing up against the nerves surrounding my opening was a feeling like nothing else. My entire body was alive with sensation both inside and out. “You’re so fucking wet,” Finn said, looking down and watching as he rubbed his thick shaft through my glistening folds. I could only nod. Finn lowered himself down onto me and lowered his hand to tease my opening with his fingers. He pushed one long finger into me and I jumped, seeing stars of bliss. “Shit. You’re really tight, Say.” He kept the finger inside me, rubbing my inner walls and creating a new kind of sensation that burned within me. “I want to feel you,” I said, reaching for him and wrapping my hand around the soft skin of his shaft. “Inside me.” Finn groaned and his eyes snapped to mine. He withdrew his finger and positioned himself at my opening, rubbing it through my folds and sending sparks shooting through me. He took my mouth with his, kissing me deeper than ever before. Finn teased my opening with a slow swivel of his hips. I didn’t know how much more I could take without passing out. “You. Are. Mine,” he grated out through clenched teeth. “Yes!” I cried. The cords of his neck strained as he began to push inside me. He kissed me again as he stretched me from the inside out. At first it was just a burning sensation that grew as he reached deeper and deeper, but then his lips left mine. “I love you, Say,” he whispered against my lips before he surged forward and broke the final barrier separating us that felt like I’d been sliced with a jagged knife from the inside. Thankfully the feeling was brief and within seconds turned back to a slow burn. “I’m sorry,” Finn apologized. He lowered his lips to my nipple and sucked on it until I felt myself pulsing around him from the inside. “I…I don’t know what I’m doing,” I said between heavy breaths, closing my eyes tightly. “Open your eyes, Say,” Finn ordered. When I did, he met my gaze. “You don’t have to do anything. You just have to feel. Feel me. Feel this between us.” He began to slide out of me slowly before rocking back in until he was buried deep inside of me as far as he could go.

I’d never felt so full. My body or my heart. “Holy shit,” Finn ground out. “You feel… incredible.” He kissed my lips. “You are incredible.” Then he moved again. Slowly at first. Pulling out and pushing back in, creating a rush of pleasure even more intense with each stroke. My channel clamped down around him and his shoulders tensed. “This is everything, Say. YOU are everything.” Finn began to thrust harder and faster. I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my mouth when a blinding light of pleasure began to build within me, sending me closer and closer to the edge. It was a depth of pleasure, of love, I’d never felt before. It wasn’t just sex. It was us. Connecting. Loving. Being. “Do you want more?” Finn asked, and I could tell by the rasp in his voice and the tightness of his shoulders that it was taking everything he had to hold back. He thrust into me and I cried out in pleasure, arching my back. “I want…I want it all!” With a growl, Finn began to thrust faster and faster, harder and harder until I was sure my body was going to spontaneously combust from being unable to process the sensations that were setting my body on fire. I lifted my hips, arching my back and met him thrust for thrust because I may not have known what I was doing but I knew what felt good and to me, Finn being inside me as deep as possible was what felt best. Like he was made to be there. It was as if it didn’t matter how deep he was inside of me, it wasn’t deep enough. I had a feeling it would never be deep enough. Finn lifted my legs so my knees were bent against my chest. “I’ve thought of you like this a thousand times since we met.” He entered me again hitting me at an angle that made me scream over the sound of the thunder booming outside. “You’re better than I ever imagined. You are everything to me. You make me want to be better. You make me better.” My eyes began to sting. He slowly moved in and out of me, keeping his eyes trained on mine. Neither one of us willing to break our connection. I barely blinked as the first tears I’d cried in years fell down the side of my face. Finn leaned down and kissed my temple, wiping my tears away with his lips. With his love. “Every single part of you tastes so good,” he murmured. His expression grew pained. “I thought you said you didn’t cry?” “Not for years. These are happy tears. They’re because of you. They’re for you.”

“Say,” he groaned, his shoulders tensing. His voice scratchy and deep. The pressure in my lower stomach began to unfold, releasing a shockwave of bliss throughout my body as my core contracted and Finn’s name tore from my lips. The tears continued to flow as my body erupted into a fireball of endless waves of pleasure I didn’t know I was capable of, yet wanted to experience over and over again from the second it grabbed hold of my body. The same way Finn had grabbed a hold of my heart. “Say, oh fuck. Say!” Finn shouted, pushing into me rougher and deeper. He stilled, groaning, coming in long spurts I felt to the very depths of my soul. The pulsing heat of his release caused me to gasp and tighten around him, riding out the last wave of my orgasm while milking the last drop from his. Finn rolled us both over, pulling out of me slowly and adjusting me against him. His erection was still hard, wet and hot, sticky against my skin. He kissed my temple and wrapped his hand lightly, but possessively, over my throat. “Mine,” he whispered again, squeezing my throat lightly. A gentle reminder that wasn’t necessary. I was his. I’d known it for a long time. Long before I’d admitted it to myself. That night Finn made sure it was a fact I’d never be able to forget.

Finn I couldn’t tell her in words how I felt, so I’d told her with my body. I worshipped her with my mouth. My fingers. My cock. I was her first. Her first everything. It was a good thing I wasn’t planning on dying anytime soon because there was no doubt in my mind that after taking Sawyer’s virginity on the floor of the library that I’d be going straight to hell. I couldn’t bring myself to feel bad about it though. I didn’t regret it. Not a single moment of it. My only thought after watching her come was how soon I could make her come again. And again. The thing was, after having Sawyer… Taking her… ALL of her… I’d gladly jump on the reaper’s raft and whistle my way down to meet the devil. Sawyer Dixon was well worth going to hell for. There are moments in your life, seconds even, when something happens that changes everything. Changes you. I’d been through those moments. So had Sawyer.

In that library, on that floor, I had one of those moments. It was like I suddenly stopped trudging along the same rocky dirt road I’d been on for two years and finally turned off an exit ramp. I wrapped my arms around her and felt myself trembling. “Are you cold?” she asked, pressing her warmth up against my chest, her tits smashed up against my skin making my cock twitch with excitement all over again. “Yeah,” I lied, barely able to contain the shakiness of my voice. A shakiness that had nothing to do with it being cold. It was eighty-nine degrees outside, if not hotter. It was more like a side effect from feeling things I wasn’t used to feeling. Things only Sawyer had ever made me feel. I’d given her everything on that floor, including my heart. It wasn’t shit, but it was all I had. And when I saw her tears spilling down her beautiful face it took everything I had to keep my own tears from spilling, because that’s when I knew she’d given me everything in return. And so much more.

Chapter Thirty-Eight FINN

ou bought me a library?” Sawyer asked, wide eyed as she glanced at the newly “Y cleaned and stocked shelves. I’d waited until my brain cleared from the best-damned orgasm of my life to give her the keys and fill her in on the surprise. Watching her flit from shelf to shelf was almost as amazing as watching her come undone underneath me. Almost. “Not really, I already owned it. I just figured since I wasn’t doing anything with it that you might want it. You can run it. Do whatever you want with it. The city has a library budget this year. You can open it and make it the best library Outskirts has ever seen or you can keep it closed and use it as your very own reading den,” I said, laughing nervously. I watched Sawyer innocently fawning all over the books, running her hands along the spines. The first book she plucked from the shelf was a book of fairytales. She skipped over to the couch in the middle of the room and plopped down, propping her legs up on the arm. I lifted her feet and sat down, setting her legs across mine. “Fairytales huh? You know those aren’t real,” I teased. “Trust me, I know life isn’t a fairytale,” she said, turning the book around to a picture of a library with a princess and a beast standing in the middle. “Yet here I am, in my own library…with my very own beast.”

Sawyer Finn smiled. “Well, beast makes more sense than prince.” “Or swamp ape,” I added. After we caught our breathes Finn had gently cleaned me up and we’d gotten partially dressed so that I could inspect the books in my very own library.

“No, that probably makes the most sense,” he said, leaning over to scan the book of fairytales in my lap. “Have you actually read any fairytales? Some of them are great. But a lot of them are weird. Stories about witches luring children into her home and eating them, wicked queens wanting to kill an innocent princess just because she’s pretty. It’s some pretty twisted shit.” Finn shrugged. “I could come up with something better than that.” “Oh yeah?” I asked, curious as to where he was going with this. “Like what?” Finn slid my legs off of his and reached over, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me so I was sitting across his lap. “Once upon a time there was a man,” he started, “a recluse so caught up in his own pain he couldn’t stand to face the world. Then, the strongest and bravest girl he’d ever met came along with her sassy mouth,” he kissed the corner of my lips, “and innocent pliable flesh,” he squeezed my hip, “and made the man want things he hadn’t wanted in a very, very long time.” “Is that all?” I asked, my voice a whisper. My thighs tightened around him on instinct and his eyes darkened. Finn shook his head and gently pushed me off his lap onto the couch. “The man told himself he was better off without her,” Finn continued, sliding off the couch until he was kneeling in front of me. He toyed with the waistband of my shorts and pulled them and my panties down off my legs, spreading my knees. He licked his lips at the sight of my embarrassingly swollen clit. “He told himself it would be best if he went far, far away,” he said, his voice deep and rough, his eyes dark and hooded. “For a short time, he even believed it was true,” he said, bending down and whispering the words across the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs. My core clenched in anticipation. “Until one day, he couldn’t fight against the need to claim her and make her his.” He looked me in the eye as he swept his flattened tongue over my clit. I bucked off the couch and my book fell off the arm rest to to the carpet. Finn chuckled against my outer lips. “You see, the man didn’t just want her incredible body.” Lick. “He wanted her mind.” Impossibly slow lick. “Her spirit. Every part of her she was willing to give.” He glanced up at me. “And more.” “What did he do?” I asked, fighting the urge to crush my thighs against his head. He pushed his hands on my knees and spread me wide open. Finn’s eyes were downright wicked when he looked down between my legs. He smirked. “He took it.” And then he did. Finn opened his mouth wide and sucked my clit and my swollen outer lips into his mouth, rolling his tongue over and over again until everything around me blurred and I saw stars in the middle of a bright sunny day. He darted his tongue inside my hole and using a wave like motion he massaged my inner walls. Finn wasn’t just tasting me. He was devouring me. This wasn’t a simple act, this was an oral claiming. A claiming I wasn’t going to deny because my core squeezed around his tongue and a pressure so great built inside me that when he reached up under my shirt and pinched my

nipple at the same time he lightly grazed my clit with his teeth I couldn’t hold on any longer. I ran toward the edge with no parachute and without hesitation, I jumped straight into an eruption of pleasure that exploded from within me and didn’t give way until it had wrung every last bit of bliss from my body. “The end?” I huffed when I could finally see again. Finn licked his lips, tasting my glistening wetness around them and slid me off the couch to the floor. He chuckled. “No, baby,” he pushed down his jeans and stroked his long thickness with his hand. Slowly, up and down. “This is just the beginning.” Finn was right after all. Anything could be a fairytale. And as he took my body again I knew there was no reason for me to ever want a prince. I already had my very own beast.

Chapter Thirty-Nine FINN

I

n an attempt to help Sawyer figure out her past, mainly her mother’s connection to Outskirts, I found myself alone, scouring the back room of the library to look for any evidence that Caroline Dixon or Caroline Ellen had existed on paper in this town. I’d gone through a couple of hundred dusty files from boxes that fell apart the second I removed the lid when I finally came across a document with Caroline Dixon’s name on it. And then I got angry. “Why have you been lying to Sawyer? About knowing her mother?” I seethed, bursting through the back door of Critter’s. He was in the back alley smoking a cigar. “Why hello to you too, Finn. Nice seeing ya,” he said in that low baritone of his. “I’m fine. Business is great. Thanks for asking.” “We can do all that later. First, I need to know why you’ve been lying to Sawyer.” Critter leaned back against the wall and took a drag of his cigar, blowing out the smoke in rings into the sky. “It’s a long story. Longer than you are old.” “I need to know it.” “And why is that?” Critter asked. I gave Critter a knowing look. “I swear to God boy, if you fuck that girl over imma give you a beatin’ the likes of which this town has never seen. Is that understood?” Critter asked. Critter’s threats used to piss me off but this one didn’t. I liked that Sawyer had another protector in Critter. He’d been like the angry uncle I’d never wanted my entire life. “Good. I’d expect you to.” Critter nodded and held out his hand. Instead of shaking it I placed the document in it. “Now tell me why you’ve been lying to my girl.” “Follow me,” Critter grumbled. I followed him into the kitchen where he poured us both a shot of whiskey into red Solo cups. “Cheers,” he said, we clanked our cups together and took our shots. He walked over to his desk, just a rectangular piece of wood in the corner with mountains of papers and receipts scattered over the top. He opened a drawer, pulled out a

yellow piece of paper and handed it to me. “What’s this?” I asked. “This is everything. The reason why I’ve been lying to Sawyer. The reason why she doesn’t know half of what’s been going on since she’s gotten here.” I read the flyer several times to make sure what I was reading was right. CHURCH OF GOD’S LIGHT TENT SERVICE Brillhart County Fairgrounds Dates to be announced I remember Sawyer mentioning the name. “It’s the church she grew up in, right?” I asked, glancing up at Critter who downed another shot and walked into the bar area. I followed and slapped the flyer down on the bar. “What does all this mean?” I asked, growing frustrated. “It means that I need to tell you a story about a man by the name of Richard Dixon. The lowest cocksucker that ever crawled across this dirt ball we call earth. That rat bastard is one of the heads of that church.” “But it’s just a coincidence, right? Sawyer told me that her dad doesn’t know where she is and that he can’t find her because he never knew about the land,” I said, knowing right as the words left my mouth that I was wrong. Critter raised his bushy brows at me. “That’s not true though, is it?” Critter shook his head. “Sawyer thinks it is. And for right now it’s better that way. That girl has already been through too much. She don’t need to worry…unless the time comes when she needs to worry.” I started to panic. Sawyer was with Josh at her place but I needed to know what we were up against. “Critter, you have to give me something here,” I was practically begging. “I have to protect her. Tell me what you know. I can’t fight for her if I don’t know who or what I’m fighting.” Critter sighed. “I got that today. I was coming to talk to you tonight,” he said, and by Critter’s standards, it was about as close to an apology as anyone ever got. “Richard Dixon knows exactly where Sawyer is. He’s probably known where she was before she even got here,” Critter explained. “How?” I asked, still not a hundred percent understanding. “Because it’s the only way he’s like me. Knows the comings and goings of everyone around him.” Critter looked around like he was searching for something. “Just know, that for right now, I’ve got eyes on that bastard, and when he comes,” Critter reached under the counter and produced his shotgun. He pumped it and the click echoed throughout the empty bar. “We’ll be ready for him.” He leaned forward on the bar. “Are you in or you

out?” “I’m in,” I said, without hesitation. “Of course, I’m in.” Critter clapped me on the back. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Then it’s about time I tell you a little story about a man named Richard Dixon. The motherfucker who calls himself Sawyer’s father.” “Why do you keep calling him Richard Dixon?” I asked, realizing that Critter kept going out of his way to say his name instead of calling him Sawyer’s dad. Critter set the gun down on the counter. “Because, he’s not Sawyer’s dad,” he grated. He opened his wallet and handed me a picture of a woman who looked just like Sawyer except with blonde hair. She was smiling at the camera and had her arms around her good-sized baby bump. He then slapped down the document I’d given him. The marriage license listing Caroline Dixon as the bride and Critter Templeton as the groom. He looked me in the eye. “Because I am.”

Chapter Forty FINN

his will be the last time I come here,” I said. For the first time, I was on top of the “T slide without a bottle or joint. Just me, a cigarette, and the feeling of peace. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. For blaming you, for not moving forward with my life when I realize now that I was the only one in my own way.” I took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of the salty swamp. “I know that now. I know a lot of things now. I did love you. Not in the way you deserved to be loved, but I did love you. I always will. I hope you’re at peace now because I think…I think I’m finally getting there.” I bent down to the cardboard box and pulled out the wind chimes Jackie had made for me. I tied them to the top of the slide where they immediately began to clink together wildly in the breeze, singing their delicate song without a beat. Exactly how I loved Jackie. Wildly. Beyond reason. “Goodbye, Jackie,” I whispered, tossing my cigarette into the pool below. I stood, feeling the weight of the past two years rise off of me. I felt lighter knowing I was going back to a life I loved again. A life with Sawyer. And it was because of Sawyer I knew now that it was okay to remember Jackie. Okay to think of her. Okay to even still love her. More importantly, it was okay to be completely in love with Sawyer. Because I was. I was about to head down the steps when I spotted a line of bright yellow trucks and cars driving down the highway. That wasn’t what grabbed my attention though. That wasn’t what had me flying down the steps in a rush to get to Sawyer. It was the blue logo each of the vehicles had painted on the doors. A sun rising over mountains. He’s here.

Chapter Forty-One SAWYER

I

was on edge.

Something was off. And it wasn’t just that I wasn’t feeling great. I’d been feeling dizzy on and off all day, but it wasn’t that. It was Finn. He’d been acting different lately and when I asked him about it he told me not to read too much into his broodiness. He’d laughed, but it hadn’t reached his eyes. I knew he was hiding something. That and he went to run an errand early this morning and I hadn’t heard from him yet and it was approaching midnight. My mood must have been written all over my face because as I was sweeping up, Critter reached under the bar and pulled out a shotgun. He cocked it and the sound echoed off the walls of the bar. “Where is that son of a bitch?” he asked, heading to the door. “I warned him…” “Critter!” I called out. “Stop. Wait!” “Did he hurt you?” Critter asked, turning back around and looking me up and down with murder in his dark eyes. “I warned that son of a bitch.” “Not in the kind of way that needs resolving with a shotgun,” I explained, pushing the barrel of his gun down. He raised a bushy brow. “Is there a kind of way that don’t?” “Yeah, and I think this is one of them.” I crossed the room and continued sweeping while Critter walked back behind the bar. The shotgun stayed on the counter. “You ain’t gonna cry are you?” Critter asked, watching me from the bar. “I don’t cry,” I replied, straightening my shoulders. “Not for a long time, anyway.” But I do feel like something heavy was dropped on my chest. “Yeah, but in my experience, being pissed off at a man and tears go hand-in-hand.” Critter pulled down a tumbler from the rack, pouring three fingers worth of whiskey from the top shelf.

“I thought you only drank beer,” I pointed out. Critter lifted up his glass. “Tonight feels like a whiskey kind of night,” he said, not sounding like his usual happy self. “I’ll be fine,” I reassured him, hoping that his change in mood wasn’t because of me. “I know you will be. You’re a tough one, kid. I’m glad you came around. Things wouldn’t be the same without you.” “Thanks. I feel the same.” Critter had become family to me. More family than I’d ever had before. “I hope you always do,” he muttered and I wasn’t sure if I’d heard him right. “You say that a lot,” I said, spinning around to face him the butt of my broom handle knocked a picture off the wall, sending it crashing to the floor, picture side down. “Shit,” I cursed. “Be careful. You need help over there?” Critter asked. “I got it.” I knelt, picked up the frame and set it on the closest table. I swept the shards of glass into a dustpan and dumped it in the rolling trash bin that I wheeled over to the table. I shook the frame over the bin to make sure no broken glass remained. The picture separated from the frame and fell into the bin. “Critter, you never said. Who is it that I remind you of?” I went to reach for the photo on the top of the pile, gasping at the image staring up at me. Critter’s heavy footsteps sounded behind me. He looked over my shoulder and picked up the photo off the trash pile. He smiled and ran his hands lovingly over the older image of a woman sitting at the bar, smiling at the camera like the person behind the lens meant everything in the world to her. Critter held up the photo and pointed to the woman. “Her,” he sighed heavily. When he spoke again his voice was scratchy. “You remind me of her.” And it made sense why. The woman…was my mother.

UNABLE TO TAKE my eyes off the photo I sat at the bar. Critter stood on the other side and poured me my own drink. He slid three fingers of whiskey in front of me. “Here,” he said. “I don’t drink whiskey,” I said. “You do tonight,” he argued, downing the contents of his glass and slamming it down on the bar, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Critter plucked the photo from my hands. “I was wondering when you’d get here,” he said, but he wasn’t talking to me, he was talking to the picture. To my mother.

“Those are the exact same words you said to me when I first met you,” I pointed out. Critter flashed me a sad smile that made my throat dry. “Those are also the exact same words I said to her when she first walked into my bar.” “That’s my mom,” I said. “But something tells me you already knew that. You lied to me.” “I omitted the truth,” Critter argued. I glared at him. “Yeah, I lied. I didn’t want to. Lord knows I hated every second of it. But I thought it was for the best.” “Tell me more,” I said, not wanting to get caught up in anything other than finding out more about my mother and her time in Outskirts. Critter chuckled and nodded his head. “Yeah. I know. I’ve always known. You’re just like her. She too went out of her way to point out the obvious.” I’m nothing like her. I wanted to argue, but I was too taken aback by the way he was talking about knowing my mom. A woman I didn’t even get to know on that kind of level. “Do you know why we call them tings?” Critter asked, pointing to the ceiling. “No,” I said, shaking my head and spinning my tumbler on the bar. “Your mom. She made up that name. She said a ting is the sound you hear when something happens in your life that will change it forever. Good or bad, big or small,” he smiled sadly. “Life is composed of thousands of tings and she wanted people to memorialize the ones they experienced here. Which is why we now hang tings from the ceiling.” “Wow,” I said, feeling confused and warmed by the knowledge that my mother had something to do with the twirling pieces of paper that have been blowing in the AC breeze above my head for weeks. Critter cleared his throat. “I know every single person in every picture up on those walls.” He looked at me and smiled. “You may not have her blonde hair and she didn’t have your freckles, but that face you’ve got there? That’s your mama through and through. Thought I was seeing a damned ghost when you first walked through my door.” “I wanted to tell you a million times about her. Caught myself about to tell you how much you reminded me of her about a thousand times. Like when you talk too fast when you’re nervous or bite your lip when you’re thinking of something to say. The truth is that I didn’t want to scare you off by dumping all this on you the second you got here. I wanted you to find your way. Thought you could get to know the town, get to know the people here.” He looked me in the eye. “Get to know me.” He pointed to the frame. “Maybe even HER, before I ran you off with tales of the past.” Critter looked to the door like he was remembering watching her walk through it for the first time all over again. Critter took the photo from my hands and slid it back into the frame which he leaned against the pillar on the bar like he wanted mom to be a part of the conversation.

“So, tell me,” I started, “who exactly was my mom to you?” Critter leaned forward, resting his forearms on the bar. He laced his fingers together and stared at mom’s picture when he spoke. “Everything.” His eyes then found mine. “Your mother was everything to me.”

“YOU MIGHT NOT THINK that your mother wasn’t strong enough because she never left that bastard who called himself your father, but you’re wrong. She did leave him. Once,” Critter explained. “Which was why she came here.” Critter knows about my father? I couldn’t even process that my mother would tell anyone about Father or the way he treated us. She never told anyone. Ever. “When?” Was all I could think to ask from the barrage of questions hitting me all at once. “A long time ago. Before you were born.” He looked around the bar like he was seeing it again for the first time. “When she came here.” “I…I didn’t know,” I whispered, mulling the revelation over in my head. “Mom never told me much about her past. All I know is what I got from a box she left for me, but besides the keys to the truck and camper and the deed, it was mostly trinkets.” “Makes sense. She was a very private woman. But when she came around I couldn’t help myself. I knew she was married, but while she was falling in love with the town…I was falling in love with her.” “Then the land she left me wasn’t just some late-night auction purchase on TV or a stopover. It was part of her life.” I looked up to Critter whose eyes were glistening. He smiled and looked up at the tings. “This place WAS her life.” “Why would she leave then if she loved it so much?” Critter looked to the ceiling at the hanging notes. “There’s one above the door dated May 6th, 1996. Go take a look.” I slowly slid off my stool and made my way over to the door. I glanced up and sorted through a bunch of them which were mostly drunken notes about the best night ever when I found the one dated May 6th 1996. It was in my mother’s distinctive cursive handwriting. I don’t have a choice. I’m so sorry. -Caroline I turned and walked back to Critter who had his back to me, leaning over the bar. I walked around and slid back onto my stool so that we were face to face again.

“When she first left, I thought she decided to go back to him. To the church. I was devastated. But years later I found that behind the register when I was installing a new bar top. Must have fallen down. She was never great at attaching those damn things.” Critter sniffled. “I’ll tell you more.” He shook his head and rapped on the bar with his open palm. “Just give me a few minutes to…clear my head.” There was still so much I wanted to ask and Critter must have sensed it. “Just a few,” he repeated. “Okay.” I finally took a sip of the whiskey and coughed when the liquid burned my throat. “Thought you didn’t drink whiskey?” he asked. His eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “Tonight feels like a whiskey night,” I said, using his earlier words. “I’ll be right back.” Critter pointed to the back window and suddenly the time of reminiscing was over and my boss was back. “In the meantime, there are a bunch of new notes over by the window. Some rookie hanger didn’t have a clue how to use a stapler. Tack them back up for me would ya?” “Sure.” I took another sip of my drink and coughed again. Critter untied his apron, set it on the counter, and grabbed a full bottle of whiskey from the bar. He didn’t say another word before disappearing through the swinging doors. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” I wanted to follow him and beg him to tell me more but the look on Critter’s face was heartbreaking and I knew he’d tell me more when he was ready although it had to have been over twenty years since my mother had been there, considering how old I was, and he wasn’t ready yet. I took my tumbler with me and shuffled over to a fallen note. I bent down to pick it up and pulled out a stool to attach it back to the ceiling and when I did I spotted three different tings all tangled together. I keep falling in love with the same moron. -Josh, a.k.a. The Hot Cop

Cool kids don’t write the dates. I got my friend back. We didn’t even need a friendervention. -Miller

Cool kids still don’t write the dates. Today I invented the word ‘friendervention’. -Miller

Even though my stomach was a pit reading Miller’s ting about Finn, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Josh’s and Miller’s tings about each other. They did love each other. It was a unique kind of love. Just like mine and Finn’s. His name in my thoughts was enough to make the pit in my stomach grow. It was easy to spot the other recently hung tings Critter mentioned. The string colors were still bright and hadn’t yet faded like a lot of the others. Plus, the ink on the paper was still dark and bold. Critter was right, there were a bunch of new ones. At least ten, all hung one after the other in a row and instead of tacked with a staple like all the others, these were flimsily held to the ceiling with small strips of clear tape. I grabbed the stapler from the bar and hopped up onto a chair which I slid across the floor. I tacked the first note to the ceiling when the air conditioning kicked on and the note fluttered around toward me. The message was at eye level. May 10th I saw the most beautiful girl ever. I was a complete dick to her. -Finn I gasped. The date was the day I came into town. But this wasn’t here then. I moved to the next one as my heart began to pound in my chest. May 20th I kissed her for the first time. I don’t think I’ll ever stop thinking about her lips… -Finn My eyes stung with forming tears as I continued. June 15th I made her smile. Freckles became my new favorite thing in the world. -Finn

June 25th I made her MINE. -Finn I felt the tears pouring down my cheeks by the time I read the last one which I plucked from the ceiling and dropped down on the chair to read over and over again as the tears continued to fall.

Date: Unsure exactly when I fell in love with Sawyer Dixon -Finn The swinging doors from the kitchen creaked open and that feeling of awareness I used to think was dread but now associated with Finn flitted down my spine. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever come back,” I said, turning with happy tears still spilling down my face, fully prepared to jump from the chair and into Finn’s arms, only to come face to face with Critter who had an apologetic smile on his face. Critter ducked under the bar and I jumped down from the chair I’d been standing on. “What’s going on?” I asked when Critter poured himself half a tumbler of whiskey and downed it all in two gulps. “Are you going to tell me the rest of the story?” “It’s not my story to tell,” Critter said. I was growing frustrated. “If it’s not your story to tell, then whose is it?” “It’s mine,” said a familiar voice from the kitchen. I looked to Critter whose face was unreadable. I slowly turned, wondering if the voice was imaginary but when my eyes landed on the person standing between the swinging doors, I suddenly forgot how to breathe. No. It can’t be. The woman folded her hands in front of her and took a reluctant step into the bar. She smiled sweetly. “Hello, Sawyer.” My. Heart. Stopped. “Mother?” THE END…FOR NOW The Outliers is the second and final book in The Outskirts duet, and the conclusion to Sawyer and Finn’s love story.

The Outliers THE OUTSKIRTS DUET BOOK 2

LINKS Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2vpfg28 Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/xCNTKr Amazon AU: https://goo.gl/C24pXa

And keep reading for deleted PREPPY scenes.

Bonus Preppy Scenes DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE KING SERIES *CONTAINS SPOILERS*

BONUS EPILOGUE FROM PREPPY PART THREE Preppy “It’s official. I’m fucking old,” I said, clicking off the TV and dropping the remote like I’d become suddenly allergic to it. “Why?” Dre asked from the kitchen where she was making a batch of Mirna’s famous chocolate chip cookies. I crossed my arms over my chest like a child and stuck out my lower lip. Even I realized I looked like a pissy child in the reflection of the TV, but I didn’t give a shit. This was a serious issue. “Because I was watching the music awards and didn’t know who a single one of the artists walking the red carpet were. And you know, as a self- proclaimed pop-culture connoisseur I feel like a failure.” Dre suddenly appeared in front of me with her gigantic baby belly blocking my line of sight. I never really understood the guys with the pregnancy fetishes until Dre’s stomach started to grow with our twins. I reached up and splayed my hands out on her belly, and my cock started reacting to her nearness. “Poor baby,” Dre said, spatula in hand. “I have something I think might make it better.” “Oh, I know you do,” I said, sucking on my bottom lip and pulling my wife into my lap. Dre gasped when she felt my hard cock against her ass. “And I have something for you as well.” Suddenly the front door burst open, and Bo came running into the room. “Hey, buddy,” I greeted as Bo set his backpack down on the floor and grabbed a fingerful of cookie dough from the bowl on the counter. Dre attempted to get up from my lap, but I held her in place. She raised an eyebrow at me, and I glanced down to my crotch. She smiled knowingly, her red lips parting revealing

just the slightest hint of pink tongue. A pink tongue I wanted on my… I groaned when I realized that the situation wasn’t going to get any better if she remained on my lap. I guided her back to a standing position and used a couch pillow to cover my situation from our son. Bo hugged his mom and plopped down on the floor in front of me. He grabbed the discarded remote and clicked the TV back on. “You know who any of these people are?” I asked, pointing to the screen where some guy wearing a giant blue mouse head just won an award for most authentic emo video. Whatever the fuck that was. Bo nodded and signed the name of the artist to me. “The fuckers name is Big Blue Bunny?” I asked, scrunching my face at the screen. “Does he ever show his face?” “No,” Bo answered using both his sign language and his voice. “What a twat-waffle,” I muttered, tossing the pillow to the side now that my dick was under control. Shit, after seeing Big Blue Bunny win his award I think Little Preppy would be out of commission for at least…thirty minutes or so. Bo glanced up at Dre as she brought in a tray of cookies into the living room and placed them on the coffee table. “What happened?” she asked knowingly. Bo visibly flinched. “Go get it,” I said, waiting as Bo stood up and retrieved a familiar pink slip from his backpack. He handed it to me first then swiped a cookie from the tray and sat back down. “How bad is it this time?” Dre asked, with a hand on her hip and her eyes firmly on Bo. I read from the slip out loud. “Bo is showing signs of academic improvement every single day. However, when asked what he wanted to do when he grows up he stood up in class and answered…” I stopped reading and glanced up at Dre. “What did he say?” Dre asked, snatching the slip from my hands. When she read what I did, we exchanged a knowing glance. “Bo, please go to your room while we discuss your punishment.” Bo dropped his shoulders and trudged to his room. I winked at him so his mother couldn’t see and he stood back up straight. Once his door clicked shut I followed Dre out back, down the steps of the deck, and over to the side of the house where we knew he couldn’t hear us. And then we laughed. “Maybe you shouldn’t have told him that story,” Dre said, tears pouring down her face. “It was a history lesson about me and his Uncle King. I couldn’t not tell him.” “Yeah, but you could have left out the part in the story where you said you were going to ‘get bitches’ when you grew up.”

“I could have left it out, but that was like a really big part,” I said, barely able to get the words out of my mouth because of my own fit of laughter. “He’s his father’s son,” Dre said, finally able to catch her breath. I looked into her beautiful eyes and pulled her against me. Every single time I touched her, it was like the first time. The excitement never died down, and neither did my cock. “He is,” I said, pressing a feather-lite kiss to her lips. “Which is why we both agree on the names for the babies.” Dre groaned and rolled her eyes. “Those names are NOT going to happen.” “Of course, they are,” I said flattening my palms around her belly. “We will talk about them later. Right now, we should go back in,” Dre said, her pupils dilating. She was just as turned on as I was. I grabbed her by the hand and lead her back into the house where we headed to Bo’s room to have a serious conversation with him about his actions at school. Then after he went to bed, I planned on convincing Dre with my tongue that the names Bo and I had agreed on for the babies were most definitely happening. Twins. Girls. I couldn’t have been happier. Later that night, well after I’d won the war of the baby names using sexual torture techniques that were probably illegal in some states, I laid my hands on my sleeping wife’s belly and whispered. “I can’t wait to meet you, Miley and Taylor.”

ALTERNATE DRE/PREPPY MEETING PREPPY “Why me?” She asked, looking up from the paper I just handed her and then back over to me. “Because you’re the only girl I know in Logan’s Beach who still has two separate nostrils and doesn’t always look like you just got plowed in a gas station bathroom.” I explained. As much as I hated my hometown when I was a kid, I’d grown to love it. It’s where I thrived. Where I was meant to be. If someone came along and offered me a shit ton of money to move out of Logan’s Beach I’d pass. The only place that’s ever felt like a real home to me was the house on stilts that I lived in with my buddy King– and sometimes Bear–when he wasn’t doing all his biker shit with his MC, the Beach Bastards. More like Beach Bitches. His old man had turned it into a house of white trash thugs instead of an MC. A big bunch of leather wearing dick bags.

Who like, killed people and shit. “How much does this pay again?” Dre asked, surprisingly still unconvinced even though my plan was pure fucking genius. “How much do you need to pay off your student loans?” I asked, knowing which buttons to push in order to get the answer I wanted. Plus, she was cute and there was one particular button of hers I wouldn’t mind pushing. With my tongue. “Sixteen grand.” Dre sounded defeated. Perfect. The more desperate she was the more likely she was to say yes. Desperate I could work with. “Then that’s how much it pays.” I said. “Plus, a grand for every time you have to attend a hearing or interview or whatever fucking hoop the ringmasters over at DCS want us to jump through. Plus, clothes. I’ll pick them out. You’re about a…four, right?” I leaning to the side of the table to get a better look at her. “Fuck your legs are killer.” Her calves alone made little Preppy twitch. I sat back up straight. “Can I lick them?” “Uhhh…” “I think green is your color. It goes with your dark hair. Green is conservative, but says you have style. Black pumps for sure. Not beige. That will make your legs look even longer. Shit, you’ll almost be my height in six inch heels. Tall chicks are so fucking hot.” Dre sat back and just let me talk. She didn’t interrupt me. I liked that about her. Almost as much as those fucking LEGS! “I’ll throw in fucking you for free. That’s not negotiable. Or maybe it is. Shit, maybe you should pay me. Whatever you want.” I waved my hand in the air. “I’ll let you decide.” I winked at her and she looked at me the way I was used to girls looking at me. The way everyone looked at me. Like she was both intrigued and very fucking confused. Exactly the way I liked it. Dre shook her head and ignored half the shit I said, focusing on what was only important to her. I knew I liked this non-whorey bitch. “All this,” she motioned to all of the paperwork in front of her. “Because you want to be… a father?” I tipped back my chair and rested my head back on my hands. “Sort of. My buddy can’t get custody of his kid. He’s got a little girl. He’s going to be–indisposed for a couple of years and can’t do all this bullshit. So I’m going to do it for him.” And I would. No matter what. King needed his kid and I was the only person who could get her back for him. “What about her mother? Where is she?”

“She is part of the one nostril club. I’m pretty sure at this point her entire body is one big whole from all the shit she’s stuck in it. But she’s also gone. Off the radar. I got a guy I know working on tracking her down to sign off, but even if he finds her I’ll need more than that.” “This guy. Your friend? He must be one hell of a person for you to go through all this for him. It’s not like you’re loaning him your car or something.” Dre said, running the tip of her finger around the rim of her wine glass. “I would never let that motherfucker drive my fucking car!” I snapped. I took a deep breath. “Okay.” I said, in a much calmer tone. I almost had her locked and loaded, I didn’t want to scare her off. “I would let him drive my car, but it would have to be for a really really fucking good reason. Like life or death shit.” I thought about it some more. “Or if we were out of weed or something.” I shook my head to try and straighten out the jumble of thoughts taking up more space than I had available in my brain. I may have talked a lot but most of the shit I thought didn’t even make it out of my mouth. Coherent structured sentences were always a struggle for me. I took a deep breath and took my time before I spoke. “It’s not like he wouldn’t do the same thing for me.” I managed to say. “And he’s an alright guy. A bit moody. Like he’s aways on the rag. But I’d be pissy too if I was where he’s at.” “Where is that?” She asked. “State Prison.” “Do I want to know?” Dre asked. This girl kept surprising me. I thought someone of her caliber would at least be shocked at the mention of the person I was asking her to help was locked up. “Nope. You don’t. It’s complicated, but the truth of it is he’s done some shit that in the eyes of the law he should be locked up for, and so have I. But the reason why he’s in there now is complete bullshit.” Dre nodded and looked down at her lap as she fidgeted with her hands. I leaned forward and grabbed her arms, bringing them up to the table I took her hands in mine. “No more questions.” I said. I looked her directly in her beautiful brown eyes. I’ve called bitches hot. Sexy. Fuckable. But this is the first time in my life that I ever thought someone was actually beautiful. She had full lips a few shades darker than her olive skin. Pale and tan was pretty much the extent of the diversity in Logan’s Beach, but I was thinking that Dre was some flavor of Spanish. Maybe Cuban. Shit, I really was getting a fucking chubby. Little Preppy loved the idea of those thick legs in heels. “One more question.” Dre said. “How long do you think would all this will take?” This was the question I was dreading the most. “I’m not going to lie. I got to fix a lot of shit in my life to make this work. The stiffs who make these decisions don’t fuck around. But my buddy isn’t going to be out for at least three years and we might need every second of that time.”

Dre hadn’t removed her hands from mine. A good sign. I kept going. “You’re going to have to spend a lot of time with ole Preppy here, and then meetings with lawyers and specialists, and a lot of people I’m going to have to hold my tongue around. That’s where you will come in. When I’m not talking, it’s because I can’t open my mouth, or I’m going to say something that could ruin everything.” I gave her hands a squeeze. “Besides, I don’t think these motherfuckers can handle full-on Preppy.” I gave her a smile and she squeezed back. Dre took a deep breath and twisted up her mouth to the side. I tapped my foot impatiently on the floor. She smiled out of the corner of her mouth and I couldn’t look away from her lips. I thought I was going to blow my load right there under the fucking table. How the fuck did this girl go under my radar for so long? My gaze then dropped to her low neckline of her tank top. Some white little number with small metal things around the neckline. Suddenly fingers were being snapped in front of my face but her redirection didn’t work and I continued to openly stare at her chest. “Don’t blame me for looking, babe. Those tits are fucking mouth watering. Blame the person who gave them to you. Whatever God you think might be out there. Or your mama.” That thought made me whip my head back up to look her in the face. “What does Mama Dre look like?” I asked suddenly intrigued. “Do you have a picture? Please tell me you have a picture.” Dre kicked me under the table and I didn’t flinch. “Can’t hurt steel, baby. Preppy’s built to last…and last and last and last,” I sang. Dre laughed and when she went to pull her hands away from mine I held them tighter. I wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet. Not without an answer. Or a blow job. “Okay,” she finally said. “Okay?” I asked, unsure if I really heard her correctly. “Yes. I’ll do it. Okay.” She said again. I got off my chair and dropped to one knee. She looked around to see if anyone was watching. The place was crowded so I’m sure people were but I didn’t give a fuck. I kissed the backs of her hands. “Dre, fake love of my life, fake soulmate of mine, fake mother to my friends kid and our someday adopted daughter we would only legally be responsible for…thank you.” And I meant it. I stood up and pulled Dre up with me I leaned down and planted a kiss right on her plump pink lips. She mumbled something and pressed on my chest, but I couldn’t hear anything over my loud thoughts. Because of her, what seemed like another passing thought was actually beginning to be a possibility. “Now that you agreed, it’s time for step two.” I said after pulling back from her. She wiped the corners of her mouth but she wasn’t mad, she was still smiling. I really was beginning to like this girl.

“Okay,” she said with a giggle that shot straight to my cock. I took her hand in mine. “Dre, insert last name here,” I started. “Will you motherfucking marry me?” I shouted the question loud enough so that everyone in the restaurant who wasn’t already staring at us was now turned our way. Dre giggled and surprised me by getting down on her knees so that we were eye to eye. She surprised me even further when she grabbed my face and planted a kiss to my lips. As the restaurant erupted in confused applause that sounded a lot like a slow golf clap gone wrong she whispered in my ear. “Yes. I’ll motherfucking marry you.”

DELETED PREPPY PART ONE SCENE PREPPY It’s been two fucking days without fucking my girl. Not even a fucking handy. Marriage is bullshit. I got out of my car and spotted Bear crouched down in the driveway meticulously polishing his bike with a rag. King’s bike was next to his, already shining. It fucking sucked that it would be a long whole before he would get to see it again. “Where the fuck have you been?” “Why? You miss me, Beary-Poo?” I sang. I patted Bear on the ass as I passed behind him and I leapt out of the way just before he could swat the back of my leg. A move that has taken me down a hundred too many times before. I took a cigarette out from behind my ear and lit it. I took a drag and pointed my fingers holding the cigarette at Bear. “I think we’ve been friends long enough that you should know that I’m not into you that way. I don’t do dudes.” “Fuck off.” Bear said, his own cigarette in his mouth moving up at down between his lips as he spoke. He turned his attentions back to his bike. “I don’t want to fuck you, Bear.” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I just want to make that clear. There shouldn’t be any lies between us now that I’m the man of the house and you’re the first lady.” “Prep,” Bear warned. I threw my arms up in the air. “Fine, if you insist you can watch me lay down some D next time. Okay? Will that make you happy?” “Prep.” Bear warned with a little more growl. Pushing him was one of my most favorite activities. Next to fucking of course

And tetherball. I fucking loved tetherball. “Okay, okay, Bear. I’ll make you a jerk off video, but that’s it. And only because we’re friends and I’m supportive of your lifestyle.” I said. “Gosh, the things I do for you.” I stomped out my cigarette and took the porch steps two at a time. I’d already gone into the house and was in my room with the lap -top cued up and camera in place when through the open window I heard Bear shout, “I swear to Christ Prep, if you send me another fucking jerk-off video I’m going to put a bullet in your fucking skull and throw you in the bay.” Promises promises. I dropped my pants and hit record.

DELETED TYRANT SCENE (When I was going to bring Preppy back initially) KING Preppy leapt down the stairs three at a time, holding his open lap top in one hand. “Where is it?” he asked frantically, pressing keys with one hand. “Where is what?” I asked. “Where is…EVERYTHING! Fifteen years’ worth of debauchery…it’s all GONE!” “I deleted it.” Bear said calmly. “You’re welcome.” “YOU DID FUCKING WHAT!” Preppy roared, his face turning from white to red to purple. “You told me to, fucker. I’m a good friend. I respected your last wishes.” Bear said, taking a swig of his beer. “I said no such motherfucking thing!” Preppy put down the lap top on the coffee table and this time used two hands to tap on the keys. “It can’t be gone. It just can’t!” “Dude, don’t you remember?” I asked him. “Remember what!? Preppy said, not looking up from the blank screen. “You told us that if anything were to ever happen to you that you wanted us to delete your hard drive immediately.” I said. Preppy’s eyes shot up and met mine. “Oh my fucking god, and you actually listened to me!” “Yep.” Bear said, amusement in his eyes. “I sure did, but not before I saw what you had going on there you little fucking freak. Love the home videos. Let me guess, the girls didn’t know you were filming them.” He teased.

“You watched!” Preppy’s eyes went wide. Horror written across his face. “Just for an hour or so. You’re a fucking freak, but I had to fast forward through certain parts, there is only so much a guy can see his friends dick.” “You fucking jerked off to my fucking homemade porn?” Preppy asked, sinking to the floor. “Only twice. Maybe three times.” Bear teased. “It’s all fucking gone.” Preppy said, hugging his lap top to his chest like it was a puppy who had just been run over by a car. “All gone.” He whispered. “Asian twins, chicks with dicks…it’s all fucking gone.” It was the only time in my life I’d ever seen Preppy cry.

Acknowledgments

I have SOOOOO many people to thank! I’ll start with my beautiful husband who puts up with me, loves me, crazy and all, and encourages me every single day. I want to thank my little girl for giving me the drive to show her that she can accomplish whatever she sets her heart on as long as you’re willing to give it all you’ve got and more. I want to thank Julie for all of your love and support and of course for your friendship. I want to thank Becca for helping me move forward. And Janice and Kelly for helping spot the errors of my ways. Thanks to Ellie from Love-N-Books for the edits and understanding that I’m going to ‘Frazier’ you every single time. Thank you to Jenn Watson for sorting through my crazy and making it work. Everything you do is greatly appreciated. Thank you to Jessica Viteri for taking the time to read this book way back when it was an out of order mess. Thank you to the authors who inspire me to keep writing, to be better, and who keep putting out amazing stories that keep me reading as well as writing. Thank you to Kimberly Brower of Brower Literary & Management for putting up with my crap. I know I’m not easy to deal with. Thank you for working with me. For choosing me way back in the day. Thank you to Beth Ehemann for encouraging me daily and for sprinting with me! Thank you to Aly Martinez for holding my hand when it comes to making these crazy and stressful publishing decisions! Thank you to Wander Photography for the great pictures of Steven. YOU are a true artist and inspiration. I can’t thank my Frazierlanders enough. You see my day-to-day crazy and you still with me. You let me know that you’re there for me. You give without expecting anything in return. I’m so proud of my group and all my amazing friends in it. #FRAZIERLANDFOREVER!

Thank you to Rochelle Paige, Elle Christianson, BB Easton, and Jessica Viteri for Beta reading for me. I know you guys are crazy busy but I’m so thankful that you took the time to give me your notes. You guys are THE BEST! Thank you to Staci Brillhart for walking me through the file size changes. You have the patience of a saint. Thank you to the bloggers and Goodreads reviewers who continue to support me through each and every release. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys. Thank you so so so much. To the best readers out there. Words can’t say how much you mean to me. All of this is for YOU. You want more so I give you more. Stick with me and I’ll stick with you. We’re in this together! Love, T.M.

About the Author T.M. FRAZIER T.M. Frazier is a USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR best known for her KING SERIES. She was born on Long Island, NY. When she was eight years old she moved with her mom, dad, and older sister to sunny Southwest Florida where she still lives today with her husband and daughter. When she was in middle school she was in a club called AUTHORS CLUB with a group of other young girls interested in creative writing. Little did she know that years later life would come full circle. After graduating high school, she attended Florida Gulf Coast University and had every intention of becoming a news reporter when she got sucked into real estate where she worked in sales for over ten years. Throughout the years T.M. never gave up the dream of writing and with her husband’s encouragement, and a lot of sleepless nights, she realized her dream and released her first novel, The Dark Light of Day, in 2013. She’s never looked back. FOLLOW T.M. FRAZIER ON SOCIAL MEDIA FACEBOOK INSTAGRAM TWITTER AMAZON NEWSLETTER SIGN UP FACEBOOK GROUP

For business inquiries please contact Kimberly Brower of Brower Literary & Management. www.browerliterary.com

Also by T.M. FRAZIER THE OUTSKIRTS DUET Finn & Sawyers Story THE OUTSKIRTS THE OUTLIERS (Coming Soon) KING SERIES King & Doe’s Story (Duet) KING TYRANT Bear & Thia’s Story (Duet) LAWLESS SOULLESS Preppy & Dre’s Story (Triplet) PREPPY PART ONE PREPPY PART TWO PREPPY PART THREE STANDALONES Jake & Abby’s Story THE DARK LIGHT OF DAY, A KING SERIES PREQUEL Rage & Nolan’s Story ALL THE RAGE, A KING SERIES SPIN OFF Visit T.M. Frazier’s AMAZON page for a listing of all her available books.