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by Jennifer Hartmann

“Smells amazing, Halley.” I twisted back to the counter and began to clean. “Thank you. It’s a lot easier now that I have two hands,” I replied, showcasing my arm, sans the sling. It was a lie, though. I didn’t have two hands. One was swiping sour cream dollops off the counter with a dishrag… And my other was still tingling with the memory of being locked with his.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” “It was a big deal. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. And it meant a lot to me.” Reed nodded and glanced down at the wooden planks beneath his feet as he scuffed them with the toe of his boot. “You’re welcome, Halley.”

“I got this for you.” I handed him the video game. It took a second for his eyes to leave my face. They lingered in that dangerous way, in the way I’d been trying so hard to avoid, and in the same way his palm had lingered on mine earlier.

“Everything. If you had actually been twenty-one like you told me you were, you’d be—” His mouth snapped shut. My breath stalled, my heartbeats a stampede threatening to crush my fragile ribs. “I’d be what?”

IM JUST A GIRL. GOING CRAZY IN HER ROOM.

“What were your plans for us that night?” A heavy beat passed. And then his head slowly canted back to me. Every muscle tightened. His fingers clenched and splayed, his biceps twitching in response. He shook his head back and forth as if trying to eradicate the question from the space between us. “Don’t ask me that.” “Why not?” “Don’t ever ask me that,” he repeated, rasping out the words like they were tiny needles pricking him on the way out. “Please.” “We should talk about it.” “There’s nothing to talk about.” “Yes, there is. Maybe we should⁠—” “You fucking lied to me!”

MY PULSE IS GONE

“I wasn’t going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.” “I-I know. I’m sorry,” I stammered, my headshake morphing into a frantic nod. “I know.” He reached for me, cautiously extending both arms, his gaze gleaming with torture and remorse. “Fuck. Come here, Comet.” My nickname. He’d only said it once, and I wasn’t sure why he ever stopped.

“I’m really sorry,” I murmured against his chest. “I feel like such an idiot.” “No. Don’t apologize.” One big palm stroked the length of my spine, up and down, slow and tender. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I swear you’re safe.”

We stood together beneath the veranda lights and half-moon, my arms dangling at my sides because I was too afraid to hold him back. Too afraid that my hands would never loosen their grip once they curled around his waist or pressed along the hard planks of his chest. I would never want to let him go. But I had to. Reed would never be mine to keep.

PLEASE SHOOT ME IN THE FACE

“She said no.” I couldn’t help myself. Swiveling around with my hand tightly coiled around the leather lead, I flicked my eyes to Halley, then back to the kid. “Doesn’t sound like she’s interested.”

back off pimple face

“Sorry,” I muttered. I wasn’t sorry. He was a fuckass.

“You don’t need to be chasing boys away.” “His intentions weren’t pure.” “That’s…” She scoff-laughed. “His intentions don’t concern you.”

“I was looking out for you. Something your father never did.” Her face reddened against the setting sun. “You don’t know anything about my father.” “I know enough.”

We stared at each other as her honeyed hair spilled over each shoulder like liquid gold. Her eyes flashed, but it was more than just anger. More than aggravation. Pain ringed her irises—a look I’d become all too familiar with. That catastrophic shoulder massage, for one. And then the altercation on the deck when she’d thought I was about to put my fist through her face. Fuck. It haunted me.

She’d been scared of me. Terrified and panicked, cowering like a wounded animal about to be struck down by an assassin. It was pure instinct; her body’s innate reaction to a volatile man baring his teeth at her. I felt like shit.

Halley Foster was getting under my skin like a splinter. Poking, painful, and increasingly hard to ignore. Of course, my steady presence at this house had made the much-needed distance difficult, so I’d had to settle for digging her out of me with a dull pair of tweezers. The residual sting lingered, and she was determined to crawl back inside.

Maybe it was my protective, fatherly instincts kicking in. Or maybe I was feeling even more protective of her after the incident out on the deck. A way to right my wrongs.

Tara was morphing into a young woman before my eyes. She was getting older every day. And so was I.

I tried to pay attention. I tried to hang on to every word that echoed around the table. But all I heard was the Oasis CD playing on loop, one floor above us.

“Good ol’ Illinois. You can’t buy fireworks, but you can fuck a seventeen year old.” My eyes pinged back open and I shot him a hard glare. “Your niece is seventeen. Say that again.” He didn’t.

It’s giving pedo 😍😍😍😍

“Halley.” My tone was softer now. Reassuring. She shook her head again, breathing escalating. “Go,” she croaked out. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re not okay.”

Halley pressed both hands to her throat, her eyes widening with fear, desperately clawing at the invisible weight crushing her chest. A panic attack. My paramedic training fired and I crossed the alley, dropping to my knees across from her as I reached for her hands. “Hey, hey, shh.” I soothed her, my voice measured, touch gentle. “Halley, listen to me. You’re safe. You’re not alone. I’m right here with you.”

“Feel the ground beneath you. Feel me.”

don’t need to ask me twice

“Can you focus on my voice?” I allowed her nails to gouge dents in the backs of my hands while pebbles and glass shards punctured my kneecaps.

“That’s it.” I nodded slowly, dusting my thumb back and forth over her knuckles. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.” I repeated the mantra, maintaining an encouraging smile as I watched the tension start to ebb.

I pulled her face up with both palms, gathering her tears with my thumbs. Bloodshot eyes stared back at me, her lipstick and mascara smeared. “Listen to me. When something breaks you, you pick up the pieces and put yourself back together. Maybe it’s with stitches and glue sticks, but it’s enough to keep going. Nobody needs to stay broken.”

“And you’re the last person I should be falling apart with.” “Maybe.” I dusted off her wet cheeks. “But I’m the one who’s here.” Halley stared down at the cracks in the pavement, the tension in her body deflating as her breathing settled to normal. “Do you ever fall apart?” “Of course I do.” “I can’t picture it,” she whispered. “You’re strong. Resilient.” “I’m human. Just like you.” I inched back, giving her space to breathe. To process. “I don’t let many people in. If I seem resilient it’s because I’ve built walls around myself. That’s not exactly healthy either. I have very few close relationships because most of them have led to heartache.”

“I don’t want to be weak anymore.” “You are not weak.” I reached for her face again, my grip on her cheeks tighter than before. “I promise you that. Get that shit out of your head.” “It is true. You just witnessed it.” “I witnessed the psychological ramifications of an abusive household,” I said firmly, forcing her eyes on me. “I swear to you, Halley, you are not weak. You’re recovering. And recovery takes time. I’ll help you, if you need someone to talk to.”

“Are you here to save me?” She’d asked me that same question at Jay’s apartment, on the night we’d met, our backs pressed to a faded-blue couch. Are you here to save me? Our eyes stayed locked for another beat, a warm, confusing feeling coursing through my bloodstream. I saw her so clearly in that moment. Her pain, her agony. Her clawing need for strength. She needed someone in her corner, fighting for her. And Halley was right—it shouldn’t be me. But I was a born fighter and it was in my nature to protect. To defend. I wanted to mold her pain into perseverance; into something worthy and commendable. I wanted to turn her into someone who could save herself. Halley squeezed my hand. “Take me home,” she said, smiling again, a heartwarming tilt of her lips. It softened my jagged edges. Wormed its way inside like a pesky invader. Dangerous. Lethal. A breach in my steely resolve. Pulling to a stand, I extended my palm with a nod, helping her up. Helping her to her feet. I took her home.

screaming idk bro

“No. That ship has sailed.” “How come?” “Long story. I messed up.” A look washed over her face. Something like sadness. “And then I lost him.” “Lost things don’t have to stay lost forever. They can be found.”

STOP ENCOURAGING HER HES YOUR MAN

Panic attacks were no joke. It had felt like I was dying, suffocating, drowning. For a moment, I’d wanted to.

Turn me into someone powerful, brave, confident.” Stepping forward, I watched the way his brows creased and his eyes glittered back at me with indecision. “Someone who can turn fear into strength. Vulnerability into survival.” Reed’s lips parted, a sharp breath escaping. Hesitation gripped him as he stood before me, wordless and unsure. He was afraid of something. And I knew what that something was. Me.

“It’s not about the money.” I swallowed. He was right. It wasn’t about the money at all.

He let out a long breath, his eyes closing as he his cupped his jaw. “Halley…”

this man 😩

“We’ll train.” Something told me it was a bad idea. And that we’d both find that out soon enough.

I lunged at her. Pinned her against the cushioned wall by the wrists. Halley struggled, ducked, tried to rotate under me. “Elbow over my forearm,” I instructed. “I…I can’t do it,” she croaked out, cheeks flushed bright red, arms quivering in my grasp. “Wrong answer.” I pressed harder, and she flailed her legs on instinct. “Use your shoulders. Drive your hips. Your power lies in your upper body.” “Reed—” “Do you want to die today?” I shot back, holding firm. “I’m the bad guy. I’m the monster. I’m your low-life, son-of-a-bitch father here to finish what he started. Try. Fucking. Hard⁠—” Halley growled, the sound rumbling up her chest, into her throat, and hitting the air like a thunderous battle cry. In a burst of movement, she drove her hips and shoulders toward the inside and pried out of my grip, rotating quickly and escaping my hold.

I crouched down in front of her. “You did good.” Halley popped her head up, her gaze traveling to my face. “You’re ruthless.” “You’re capable.”

“He lied to you, Halley. You’ve already accomplished the hardest thing.” Cautiously, her chin tipped back up, her eyes rounding with curiosity as she glanced at me. “What’s that?” “You got back up.”

When I looked at her like this, her heart spread wide open and soul bare, she was more than Tara’s friend. More than eighteen. More than a predicament, a casualty of life. A blip. She was defiance. A force. A kaleidoscope in motion. I saw things I shouldn’t see when I looked at her. Something beyond physical.

“You did good today, by the way. I’m impressed.” “Yeah, right.” She folded her arms underneath her breasts. “Training was a mess. If you were anyone else, I’d be dead.”

A shiver rippled down her body when a fifty-degree breeze blasted us. She was only clad in a tank top and cotton shorts with no jacket, so I shrugged out of my leather coat and handed it to her. “Take it. You’re freezing.” I didn’t wait for a rejection and draped it over her shoulders. Halley hesitantly slipped her arms through the sleeves and let the warm leather swallow her slim frame. Her throat bobbed as she glanced up at me with only her eyes. “Thank you.”

“You can’t think about the what-ifs,” I told her, veering back to her original statement, our steps in perfect rhythm. “That’s the shit that will end up killing you. It’ll override everything you’ve learned, all your logic, training, and basic instincts. Fear is a disease. It’s paralyzing. The only antidote is believing in your resilience. Every challenge is a chance to prove your strength.”

I slowly pressed the underside of her palm to her still-thrumming chest. “Feel that?” My eyes were pinned to the space between her breasts where our joined hands rested against her white tank top, the vibrations from her skittering heartbeats seeping through the pads of our fingertips. “Fear,” she whispered back. “No.” I shook my head, taking a small step closer until the toes of our shoes touched on the concrete. My thumb grazed her knuckles, my throat tightening with a heavy knot. “Power.”

The autumn breeze stole the loose pieces of her hair, lifting them, toying with them, and a beam of soft moonlight sprinkled stardust in her eyes. Those eyes lifted to mine, held tight, and⁠— A car zoomed by. I snatched my hand away from her chest, the moment severed. For the fucking best.

knowing my place. Knowing damn well that my place was far, far away from my daughter’s best friend, no matter how proud of her I was, how protective I felt, or how dedicated I was to keeping her safe and making her st...

“Ruthless,” she said, echoing her statement from earlier. I forced a smile. “Capable.”

“I don’t like him,” I muttered to Whitney. “Of course you don’t. Prince Charming could walk through that door, and you’d still say, off with his head.”

Halley giggled, her easy laughter relieving my tension and softening my rigid stance. I hadn’t heard her laugh much lately; she’d been so focused, driven, and serious. Preoccupied with her job at the animal hospital, schoolwork, and self-defense training. She wasn’t the wilting flower I’d come to know months ago, but shadows still curled around her, suffocating her bright spirit.

“Will you be my eyes when I’m not around?” “Your eyes?” “Yeah. My wing-woman.” Her cheeks pinkened as she swiped a smear of flour off her cheekbone. The action only added more flour. “Nope. Sorry. My loyalty lies with Tara.” “Bet I can win you over.” “I can’t be won. It’s called integrity.” The side-eyed grin she sent me was as dangerous as it was charming.

“A challenge.” “Don’t waste your energy.”

Then she twisted around, reaching in front of me to grab a jar of seasoning. Our arms brushed. Her eyes lifted. My attention snagged on the streak of flour dust on her cheek, and instinct took over as I raised my hand and gently brushed it away with my thumb. “You got some flour…” The words trailed off as I flicked the remaining specks of powder off her skin. She froze, gaze dropping to the countertop as the song breathed a pulse of life into the moment. A reckless, drawn-out heartbeat. She swallowed. And then she blurted out on a hitched breath, “Tara thinks Whitney is still in love with you.” I went still. My hand fell away from her face.

I- BITCH 😭😭😭😭😭