A crack.
An explosion of fire.
Pop, pop, the crackling burst of rapid-fire shots splinters the air.
Axle falls to number fourteen.
I assume the lead.
Rage rips from my chest and I shoot up in bed, holding my hammering heart. I case the room with my eyes. Less than a second passes, and I catalog the strange surroundings by shards of light streaking through windows and onto the floor: a pink comforter, tiny plaid shorts, and my pants. Piper. She stirs beside me, murmuring incoherent words. Gus. He trots in through the adjoined bath and stops by my feet, panting.
I can't get out of my head. I can't turn it off. I assume the lead. Justin. I see him. I see her. Sunshine. I feel guilt for him, for her. Chaos. Shots fired. Pop, pop, pop, back and forth.
Fuck my head. I grab my hair and pull, tugging at memories that disturb the peace in Lilyfalls and drag me back to that ridge. Back to the ambush. Fuck my head.
My life. My rules.
I stand, and my thigh crumbles beneath me. On my knees, I stare at Gus. "Stay with them, boy," I whisper, burying my head in his neck as emotion races to clog my throat. I'm suffocating inside. I'm no good to her this way. I'm no good to anyone this way.
How can I give Piper my forever when I don't know where I'm going, where I'll be a month from now or the shape of my mind when I get there?
Don't leave, not like this. Justin.
"I have to go," I say to a ghost. "I have to."
A string unravels.
And I'm gone. I stumble to my room to dress and then fly out the front door, hitting full speed as soon as I land on the gravel driveway. I run. I run away from the past, from Justin and the girl who threatens the rules that have kept me alive.
I run, and I don't know when I'll come back.
Dear Justin.
You once told me to loosen up, that my thoughtful approach held me back from chance. And chance is the gateway to exploration. And exploration is the opportunity to learn. I learned something last night. I remembered what it felt like to be free and full of life.
I understand now. I get it. I finally get it. Let the heart lead, and the dance will follow.
x Piper
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Out of Town Guests
Piper
WAKING UP WITH a wet tongue in my ear draws out a smile. That it belongs to Gus brings on a laugh and a cringe. Waking up without Caden is disappointing, but not altogether surprising. He runs every morning as if a demon bites his ass. The man is a machine, a cute one with stellar abs, a hard ass, and a very large penis.
I laugh and snuggle with Gus. Last night happened with an explosive orgasm and zero regret. Two months of want and worry dissolved with the water down the drain after a sweet shower. It's Caden's eyes I see when my lids fall, the tender, almost desperate way he looked at me while JT nursed. The kiss that followed, the gentle exploration of my mouth. I never looked away, never lost eye contact, and my heart surged. I've been so afraid of loving and losing him that I wasn't aware I had already started. I feel things for Caden. I feel happy, warm, fuzzy good things for Caden Lawless, and it's both healing and scary at the same time.
I bury my head in Gus's stomach and rub under his arms until he purrs. Poor guy-with his roughed up vocal cords he sounds like a kitten when he's readying for a bark. But he doesn't seem to mind. He's the sweetest with JT.
JT? I roll over as his squawk cracks over the monitor, and then glance up to find the early morning haze burned off by sun now streaming through the window. JT wakes like clockwork at seven. I throw off the covers and hop up to grab him for breakfast.
Caden's house is stunning, and so is the nursery. Whitewashed log walls offset by a gray-blue rug with orange accents and this morning, a wiggling baby in a crib.
"Come to Momma, little man. Let's eat and get to town. It's a big week for Ms. Cara and Mr. Dax." I hum against his temple and breathe in the sweetest scent on Earth-baby. "They're getting married in two days, and we have to make the cake. Then we have to say goodbye to the cottage by cleaning it up. We're handing in the keys, JT. We're really in this." I cling to him as we hit the kitchen. "We're really, really doing this."
I putter around, slowing my morning routine with the hope I'll catch Caden before we leave. He remains missing as we dress, and then as I stumble to the car with a baby in one arm, JT's bag in the other, and Gus running on ahead to the back passenger side door.
Leaving the empty house looming behind us, I force myself not to worry all the way to the post office. There's no reason for the tension knotting my stomach. Caden spends most mornings at the beach running miles up and down the coast. I'm sure I could find him there if I wanted to, but I don't want to be that girl-the kind who hovers as insecurities burn through every limb. No, I won't retreat into the scared lamb from San Francisco. I am good enough. I am.