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I’d wanted to.

To understand it.

To understand him.

I hungered for him to embrace the feelings that grew between us.

Steadily.

Greedily.

I’d seen it last night, emerging through the storm in his eyes, scaling those fortress walls he built around himself and tumbling free to the other side.

He kept allowing me deeper and deeper, below those layers that fought to remain concealed. Just the same as I allowed him into mine, giving him bits of the horror that had sent me running.

Sliding from my bed, I stood. My attention caught on the small piece of folded paper that had dropped to the floor. It must have been tangled in the sheet. For a moment, I blinked at it, both terrified and eager to read what it might say, before I reached down and tentatively picked it up.

Slowly, I unfolded it, my eyes quick to scan the choppy scratch of handwriting dented on the page.

You are more beautiful than the sun breaking the day. Believe me. This morning, I had the privilege of watching them both, and I didn’t want to stop. Little Thief, what am I going to do with you?

My heavy heart gave, fluttering and flapping, so insanely light. I pressed the letter over the manic thrum, not even attempting to hold back the grin that took hold of my face.

Rynna – Sixteen Years Old

“What are you doing?” Worried confusion streaked through my mind when I entered the back office to clock out. Pepper’s Pies was getting ready to close. The day had been busy, and I was tired and hungry. I’d spent the last six hours rushing around the dining room, taking care of customers, along with Janel and her mother, while Gramma had been in the back with the cook baking.

The aroma of chicken pot pie still wafted through the diner, the flaky crust and seasoned vegetables and savory chicken teasing my nose with the thought of finally sitting down to eat.

But it was the sight in front of me the clenched my chest.

Janel was lingering at the far wall where we hung our personal items, tucking a stack of cash held together by a money wrapper into her apron pocket. Shock had widened her eyes when she whipped around to face me where I stood in the doorway.

She wouldn’t.

Janel’s surprise shifted into a smirk. “Don’t be jealous I got great tips today and you made next to nothing. If you didn’t spend so much time eating the pies, you might actually make some money around here.”

Her jibes sank into me like darts, making me bow back, hit with physical pain. “I had more tables than you,” I said, forcing off the hurt, because that was just Janel’s way. I had learned to live with it. It was the only way I could remain friends with her, if that’s what I even wanted to call it.

Janel swept a long lock of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Well, tips have more to do with how you look and make a customer feel than putting their stupid food in front of them so they can stuff their faces. But I know you can’t relate to that.”

Anger slithered beneath my skin. I stilled when I heard my grandmother grumbling from out front. “What on earth . . . till is short a full hundred dollars.”

My mouth dropped open again, my head slowly shaking when I looked back at Janel. Guilt flashed through her pale blue eyes, and she rushed across the tiny room and grabbed my arm by both hands. “Rynna, please don’t say nothin’. My momma has been real short this month. Don’t think we’re gonna make rent. I’m so sorry. I just . . . I’m so ashamed. I didn’t want you to know.”

My head shook again, torn, my voice dropping to match Janel’s. “Why didn’t you just tell Gramma? You know she’d understand. Front you the money.”

“You know Momma’s pride,” she begged.

I swallowed around the jagged rock that cut up the base of my throat. This felt all wrong. So wrong.

I hesitated, and Janel squeezed my arm. “Please.”

I barely nodded and shifted to call down the hall, “Oh, Gramma, I’m so sorry I forgot to tell you. I needed it for new gym shoes.”

Gramma rounded the corner. “Corinne Paisley, you need to remember these things. Here I was, getting all worked up over nothing.”

“It slipped my mind. I’m really sorry,” I promised, glancing over my shoulder at Janel who’d turned away and was changing her shirt.

“Just glad it’s accounted for. Why don’t you get yourself some dinner, and I’ll sit down with you in a minute.”

“That sounds great.”

“How about you, Janel? You and your momma want to sit with us?”

Janel grabbed her purse from the hook. “Have plans, Mrs. Dayne. But thank you.”

Janel blew by both of us, and I headed out to the kitchen to grab a plate, hating the way regret had gathered in the pit of my stomach. The way everything felt wrong. Off. Like I was an accomplice of something I didn’t want partner to.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Fight for Me Romance