A sharp, incredulous laugh burst from my chest, and my nails dug into my palms until it became painful.

"Wow." Taylor drew out the word when the front door slammed shut. "She is a real peach, that one." She waited until I looked at her to add, "And by 'peach,' I mean 'psychotic.'"

My body felt drained and oddly on edge-as was usual after a visit from Linda. It was impossible not to feel beat down from her verbal a.s.sault, but it always left me with so much anger that I was shaking as well. It was a confusing combination that left me even more exhausted once I finally got over it.

"She hates you," Taylor whispered, as if her statement were news. It most definitely was not.

"I know."

With a sigh, Taylor wrapped me in a hug. "I have to go. Are you going to be okay?"

No. I couldn't remember the last time I was okay. "Yeah, of course. Talk to you later."

I knew in the look she gave me that she didn't believe me, but she didn't push it. As she wouldn't. Because she knew me too well to try to. "Love you, Rorie."

"Back."

Once Taylor was gone as well, I went to my room to change, yanking at my clothes as I did. Each movement was rough from the anger that pounded through my veins. As I walked through the bathroom to the closet, I jerked to a halt and looked at my profile in the mirror.

I let my eyes fall to my flat stomach, and ran my hands gently over it. I knew I wasn't pregnant. I'd been on birth control since I met Declan, and was obsessive about taking it. I'd also never thought of myself as even the slightest bit overweight until about three minutes ago, and now I was worrying over every part of my body.

"She's hateful. She's just being hateful," I whispered to my reflection. "She's trying to do this to you. She wants to drive you crazy."

And I realized that Linda had succeeded when I was still thinking of nothing but her words hours later.

I jolted away from the offensive sound later that night, and blinked up to find Linda holding the book I had been reading in both of her hands, as if she'd slammed it shut.

One of her eyebrows was already raised to match the curl of her lip as she studied me.

"Linda. Hi." Surprise laced my rough words, and I cleared my throat.

"Is this your idea of cleaning up?" Before I could respond, she scoffed. "I shouldn't be surprised. Sit up, you look like a slouch."

My body ached as I straightened in the large chair, and I wondered how long I had been in that position reading . . . and sleeping. "Um, I wasn't expecting you." Again, I added silently.

"If it will cause you to dress better than this, then you should always expect me, Rorie."

"No, that isn't what I-never mind. What time-"

She tossed the book at me and walked a few feet away as she began talking over me. "Well, I was hoping you wouldn't be here, but I guess it's for the best that you are so we can get everything taken care of all at once."

A breath of a laugh left my lips, and though I tried to control my expression, I knew I was looking at the woman as if she'd lost her mind. "You were hoping I wouldn't be here? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you do not belong, child. You never will. This should be family time, and you will never be part of my family." Before I could ask about the supposed family time, she suddenly straightened and a sweet-as-sugar smile lit up her face. "And now aren't you just the sweetest thing for offering?" she drawled loudly.

"Uh . . ." I was still too disoriented from being woken the way I had in order to follow her bipolar mood swing.

"I know he'd love to stay with y'all. After all, it's not like I have any room anymore. I mean, the girls' room was turned into my crafts room. Declan's was turned into Kurt's gym. And Jentry's is the guest room now, and he just won't be comfortable there now that it isn't his s.p.a.ce anymore. Besides, my mama's coming into town, and I can't put her in a hotel."

Hearing Jentry's name sent a thrill through my body that I tried to ignore, and failed. Just the thought-wait. "Wait. Someone stay at the apartment?" My mind raced as I frantically put together her words. I knew what she was doing, I knew. But she didn't. There was no way she could understand what she would be putting us through.

"I always knew I could count on you, darling girl!"

No, no, n- My head snapped to the left when two tall figures stepped into the room. My heart skipped a beat before it took off excruciatingly fast.

Dark, sinful eyes locked with mine before dropping to the floor, but it had been clear in that one look that he hadn't expected me to be here. He hadn't known what he was walking in on. And so much had pa.s.sed between us in that brief look.

Need, regret, control, pain, indecision. Hard and soft. Hard and soft. But wasn't that how it always was with us? One look and my soul opened to his, begging for what it couldn't have.

"What did we count on Rorie for?" Kurt's voice pulled me back into the room and away from the past. I looked up to see him smile adoringly at his wife, then me.

"She offered their guest room for Jentry to stay in now that he's moved home. Isn't that sweet?"

Kurt was saying something, but I didn't hear it. All I could focus on were the intense eyes that were back on me.

Jentry's jaw was locked tight as he looked at me, as if he were pleading with me for something. But then his eyes drifted to my left and shut to hide the flash of pain.

His pain matched my own, and while I wanted to comfort him and to let him comfort me, a small part of me hated him. Hated him for not being there before now. For leaving me to deal with this.

"Maybe he would be happier somewhere else." I sounded out of breath and terrified, and hated that my tone laid bare everything I was trying to hide.

Linda sounded as appalled as she looked. "Rorie Wilde. You already offered the guest room, and would you really have him sleep on a couch or the floor after he just finished serving our country?" She didn't give me or anyone else the time to respond, just immediately turned to Jentry and said, "Now, let's plan a welcome home party."

"Mom, no." Jentry looked from her to me, his eyes lingering a second too long before he shook his head and glanced away. "A party? No."

"You are finally home. We will be throwing you a party and that is the end of the discussion." When Jentry started to speak, Linda just talked over him as she ushered Kurt to the door. "Honey, why don't we let the kids have time to catch up?"

Kurt looked at us, then down at his watch. "You want to leave already?"

As much as I loathed being in Linda's presence, I would have begged her to stay so they could be some sort of buffer, but I was too confused by her sudden rush to leave. It didn't matter where we were; if it was any kind of family time she tried to make me leave first.

"Yes, I need to start planning the party. Now let's get."

My confusion faded, and a mixture of panic, guilt, need, hatred, and warmth moved through me when they left, and Jentry shut the door behind them.

Memories slammed into me as he turned and walked slowly toward the chair I was still sitting in. My breaths deepened and that need grew for a few seconds before his eyes drifted to the side and pain filled their dark depths. And then my need was nothing but hatred on top of more hatred.

My jaw trembled and arms shook with rage as he came closer. When his eyes became gla.s.sy with unshed tears, I snapped.

I let my book fall to the floor as I stood and swung at him, but Jentry grasped my wrist before my palm could connect with his face. I shoved my free hand into his chest, but he barely rocked backward, and that p.i.s.sed me off even more. I wanted him to hurt. I didn't care about the pain I saw in his eyes. I wanted to make him hurt.

"Where have you been?" I gritted out, my voice cracked on the last word. I hit his chest over and over again, but he never made an attempt to stop it. "Where have you been? It has been weeks, Jentry!" A sob burst from my chest. "Weeks! Do you have any idea what I have been going through?"

Throughout my hitting and demanding, he just kept repeating, "I know," over and over again, the words so soft they were hard to hear over the anger that pounded through me. "I got here as fast as I could."

"It wasn't fast enough!"

"I know." He released my hand and curled his arms around me when another sob forced its way through me. "It's gonna be okay."

My head shook back and forth, because he couldn't know that. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't," he ordered gently. "Don't do that."

"If I-"

"Don't."

He continued to stand there holding me as minutes pa.s.sed. Like that morning, I suddenly realized that I could breathe again with him there. I didn't want to ever move from his arms, but knew that just being near him was dangerous. Because I knew that soon the energy in the room would shift and swirl with something that always accompanied Jentry and me, and I wouldn't know how to leave him. Jentry was a weakness. An addiction. One my body and soul would never be able to get enough of, but one I would have to fight against in the coming weeks and months . . . who knew how long. Because no matter how much we needed each other, needed this, there were other things far more important than us that needed to be addressed and cared for first.

"What took you so long?" I asked minutes later, my voice rough from crying.

Jentry hesitated for a moment. "It's complicated."

"Uncomplicate it," I begged.

"Now isn't the right time." With a reluctant sigh, Jentry slowly released me enough to be able to look at me. And just like that, that energy started swirling when his dark eyes found mine. "Just know that I got here as fast as I could."

"It wasn't fast enough," I unnecessarily reminded him.

"I know, but I couldn't leave."

"You should have."

His mouth twitched up in a sad smile. "I thought about it a thousand times a day." One of his hands came up to cradle my face, and his thumb brushed along my cheek. "Aurora . . ."

That energy shifted and spun faster and faster. That name from his lips . . .

I knew he felt it by the way his chest's movements became more exaggerated. But he suddenly released me when that pain filled his eyes again. "I guess I should talk to Dec."

A shuddering breath left me as my eyes blurred. Agony pierced my chest over and over, but it didn't stop me from noticing the deep sense of loss that resonated through my soul when I pulled away from Jentry.

Part II.

That Night . . .

"What?" I asked breathlessly.

One hand dropped from the door to grip my waist and pull my body closer, and his mouth made a line of slow, burning kisses down my neck. "Tell me what you want before I make a mistake in showing you what I want."

Oh my G.o.d.

My knees shook and heat flooded my veins, but somehow I admitted, "I want a night where I'm not me."

There was a pause before he nodded slowly, but he didn't seem to be acknowledging my words; it was as if I'd just confirmed something he'd already known. His kisses resumed across my shoulder, and he removed his other hand from the door to pull the sleeve of my shirt down. Despite the heat that swirled around us, goose b.u.mps covered my skin.

"And I'm a b.a.s.t.a.r.d for considering it," he whispered.

He brought his face back in front of mine, and my heart pounded in my chest when his dark eyes met mine. "I can only promise you a night."

"That's all I want," I responded quickly, but from the look in his eyes, he didn't believe me.

He leaned forward to kiss my collarbone, and murmured, "If you like it gentle, we're going to have a problem."

My eyes fluttered shut, and I steadied myself against the door when it felt like my knees would give out. "Don't a.s.sume to know what I do and do not like." My voice shook through my false bravado, and I prayed the sound was lost in the music that filtered into the room.

I felt his lips curl up against my skin. "I'm not the kind of guy you want to get hung up on," he a.s.sured me in a husky tone as his nose made a soft line up the side of my neck. Even as his words gave me yet another chance to stop this, his large hand gripped me closer while the other slowly pushed my shirt up.

I arched away from the door, trying to get closer to his touch as he roughly palmed my breast, and said, "And I'm not looking for someone to meet my parents."

His lips pressed against mine softly, teasingly, but when I leaned forward for more, his teeth bit down and tugged on my bottom lip. Every touch from him contradicted the previous . . . hard to soft, and vice versa.

I wanted more.

"And if I disappeared tomorrow?"

My eyes shot open to find his dark ones staring intently at me. For as much as that line had to have been used by guys just looking for their next lay, it rang with a truth that I didn't understand when coming from the guy holding me.

My head shook. "As long as you don't disappear tonight."

A smile played at his lips before they crashed down onto mine. His hands went to the b.u.t.ton on my shorts, and I pulled at his shirt until he tore it off for me. We were a mess of frantic hands and discarding clothes as he backed me up into the room, but he suddenly stopped when my legs. .h.i.t the bed. It felt as if time slowed. His eyes studied me as he pulled off my bra and ran his large hands up my bare body.

"Perfect," he whispered so low I barely heard the word.

6.

One Month Ago

Aurora