When Sky Breaks: Burn & Break Duet Book 2

18. August

Growing up,I was never a runner. Currently, I’m more of the casual walk through the woods with my camera kind of guy, but waiting for the moment I see Sky again sends my heart rate into an adrenaline high.

Even the comforting scent of roasted coffee beans does nothing to break the vice wrapping its steel grip around my chest.

I’m the sole reason she’s never come back home. Me. I hurt her so much. And it’s more than just about Chase. The truth I concealed and the pain I caused will forever haunt me.

I pry my fingers from the chair next to me and remember to breathe. Can’t be melting down in a public place. Especially in front of the woman who has the power to destroy what little life I have left beating inside my chest.

“Hi,” a soft voice comes from behind me.

I was so wrapped up in my self-loathing I didn’t see or hear her come in. “Sky,” I say in a rush and stand quickly to face her. “Here.” She gives me a small smile as I pull out a chair and she sits in front of me, her hands down in her lap.

Just as beautiful as yesterday.

Once the shock settles in, I study her. Her blonde hair is shorter, reaching several inches above her shoulders and resting near her cheeks in soft waves. Fuck, how I wish I could brush it behind her ear like I used to. It was always the best excuse to touch her.

“Hi.” My voice catches, and I clear my throat. My social skills have always been rusty, but more so around her.

She inspects me as if unsure I’m even real.

Same, Shortcake.

Most days, I’m just one foot in front of the other with no clear destination. Today, I want to sprint in a linear fashion straight into her.

“Hi,” she repeats her earlier statement, swiping back her hair and pulling down her jean jacket cuffs in a nervous gesture.

“Coffee? They have a really good golden mix. Kind of like a breakfast blend. Sugar, milk? I’m positive you’re not a black coffee kind of girl.”

Surprise flits across her face, and then she nods. “Sure. Um, two sugars, light on the milk. Please. And thank you.”

The idea seems moot as I stride to the counter—to hope this nervous energy shakes its way out of me just as I tell the barista our order rife with caffeine.

While I wait, I watch her as she sits facing the window, her head propped in her palm.

She’s even more beautiful than I remember. A woman with years of experience and life behind her and plenty in front of her. None of which likely includes me. The thought resurfaces, dragging like rusty nails against my throat, reminding me that this pain is self-inflicted.

Honestly, I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking. If she regrets meeting me today. Probably wishes I never stepped foot into this town. There are days I feel the same, especially when my transgressions smack me in the face. I’m in Sky’s old neighborhood a lot, and each time, I’m haunted by that part of me. It’s why I’m doing what I’m doing. To make amends. To control the things I can, to overcome the things I can’t.

The mood shifts into an awkward dance when I pass Sky her coffee and a plate of scones. “In case you’re hungry. I remember you liked scones.”

She hums and takes her drink, careful to not let our fingers brush.

I repulse her now. The thought drenches my stomach in acid, and I swallow the bile.

The steam from my coffee swirls. The scent of the blueberry scones wafts. But nothing takes away the sheer uncertainty in Sky’s eyes as she finally looks at me. Those baby blues once held so much promise for us, so much trust. Love. The hollowness makes me ache with overwhelming guilt.

“I hear you own Snaps now.”

Far from the topic I want to discuss, but it’s a start. Baby steps.

“Colonel retired, and none of his kids wanted the business.” I shrug, playing with the handle of my mug while my coffee cools.

Sky sips hers, her gaze tracking me carefully.

“He didn’t want to sell it or give it to some ‘Gen X kid who’d muck it up and drive it to the ground.’ His words.” I chuckle lightly, remembering that conversation. “He was very adamant I take it. And I was in a place where I could.”

“So, you did go to California.”

I don’t know what to make of her tone. Disbelief that I did what I said I was going to do all those years ago?

“Yeah. I did. Spent a few years taking photos for a magazine, a few websites.” I pause, not jiving with this shallow conversation. “Sky, I?—”

“Stop. Please, just stop.” Her fingers clutch the sides of the mug until they turn white. “I don’t know if I can sit here and just make small talk with you.”

I almost reach out to wrap my hand around hers to comfort her, but I’m the one who’s made her uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. The apology is sincere, but I can’t guarantee she’s going to see it that way. There’s just so much between us. This table feels miles wide.

The screech of her chair scooting away from the table isn’t loud, but enough to know it’s too much, and she’s cracking at her fragile seams.

“Please, can we talk? Really talk?” I speak softly, pleading for her to give me a chance.

To do what? You’ve fucked it up beyond repair.

She shakes her head, tears making those eyes alight with pain as she stands and pulls her jacket tight. Turning, she makes for the door.

Adrenaline or the need to be near her fuels me to follow, just like in the cemetery. This can’t be how it ends. With one of us always running away.

“Sky,” I say, brushing past a person coming in the door she’s leaving from.

“Leave me alone,” she counters, swatting away an invisible hand.

I can’t.Not anymore.

At the end of the building, there’s a side street that’s more of an alley between the coffee shop and the antique store. I snag her arm and propel her down the shortcut and crowd her space, my arms caging her to the freezing brick wall.

I’m not letting her leave just yet.

The apple scent from her hair rises and my brain riots. Her eyes track me, her chest heaving. There’s an exchange of warm air between us, our lips mere centimeters apart. My pulse races, and my muscles coil, wanting to eliminate the distance. Time disappears, and we’re back in those moments where nothing and no one else mattered.

“Shortcake.”

“Don’t.” She trembles, and after a deafening pause, I retreat, giving her a chance to run if she wants. I wouldn’t blame her, but I just—we need to talk.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore. You lost that right when you left.” She swipes at the tears falling from her eyes.

Dipping my head to my chest, I step all the way back until I thud against the brick wall opposite of her. I shove my hands in my pockets before the urge to kiss her literally steals any chance of her talking to me again.

She doesn’t leave. Doesn’t move.

Our eyes tangle. There’s so much hovering in the space between. I don’t even know where to start. There’s no apology to fix what I did.

“Sky—”

She silences me by holding up her hand. “Let me speak, please.” She rubs under her eyes, some of her makeup smearing.

The wind gusts, sending her hair spiraling toward the sky. Holding it with one hand near her ear, she takes a deep breath, and I hold mine.

“I think what hurts more than anything is that you lied to me. We spent a year as best friends. Even as kids, I knew you were the real deal. You were there for me when I needed you most.” She clutches at the hem of her shirt as if she needs something to tether her.

It used to be me who tethered her.

Sky’s words grow choppy, and she’s on the verge of more tears. “Then we had those two months together, and—I trusted you with my heart, and you lied to get it. You don’t know how long I blamed myself for that fire. I thought it was me who killed Chase. It was a lot on my shoulders.” Her sadness seeps from her pores, and it makes me hate myself that much more. “Then to find out it was two people I loved more than anything? I lost myself, August. Completely.”

The hot teeth of remorse bites into my flesh. All her pain is my fucking fault.

“If it wasn’t for Phoebe, I wouldn’t have made it through college.” Her demeanor turns brittle and I flinch as her fist thumps off the brick wall at her back. “Then that sadness turned to anger, and I used it to my advantage, busting my ass at work to be the best damn nurse for those kids at the hospital. It still wasn’t enough, though. There was this longing I couldn’t escape, and no one could fill it.”

My chest cleaves apart at her admissions as I dive into my own, my voice cracking. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Just scare him—your dad. I wanted him to stop hurting you. I felt helpless every time I saw you with new bruises, new shadows under your eyes. You were being abused, and I wanted you safe. Both of you. I always wanted you safe.”

The silence is oppressive as we both break down in the middle of a public alley. I’m vibrating with heavy guilt. It’s eaten me alive for thirteen long goddamn years.

I never meant to kill Chase. He was Sky’s brightest light. I never saw him much, but she would talk about him, and I could see the love for him on her face. To be the one who snuffed it out? Even the darkest nights don’t swallow me as sharply as that moment does.

“Chase and I were kids, August, just kids.” Her voice barely registers above a whisper.

Unable to take it any longer, I explode with all the years of desperation. “Don’t you think I know that? I—you weren’t supposed to be home! You and Chase were supposed to be gone.”

With tears burning up my sinuses, I straighten from the brick wall and tighten my fists at my sides, my voice snaring in my throat. “I overheard your dad through that fucking busted front window of your house. It was only supposed to scare him into being a better dad. We fucked up.” I thump my chest, my lungs leaden with shame. “I fucked up. I’m so sorry. I know nothing will convince you, but I am sorry.” Tears fall into the corners of my mouth, and I lick away the salt. “If I could trade places with Chase, I would. I’d wipe that sad look off your face in a heartbeat.”

There’s a brittleness about her expression like she’s been beaten down to the pavement at her feet.

I fucking hate it. Hate how we’re facing off like enemies, our weapons the bitter truth of our ugly pasts.

“I don’t know if anything’s possible anymore. I really don’t. It might be too much for us to come back from. I know you’re sorry, but”—she closes her eyes and thuds her head off the brick wall before opening them to show me all her sorrow—“sorry doesn’t change what happened.”

A blazing reality illuminates what I desperately refused to acknowledge: this might be the end of Sky and me. Right here in a dim and dirty alley.

I swallow to wet my scratchy throat.

“Sky?” A deep voice rumbles from the entrance of the alley. Both our heads swivel.

A man stalks across the pavement, sets down two to-go coffee cups, and pulls Sky to him by the arm, staring daggers at me.

My spine stiffens, and my pulse skitters in my neck.

Who the fuck is this?

“What’s going on? Is this guy bothering you?”

She detaches from his grip and straightens her shirt before shaking her head. “No, no, he’s not. This. He’s. August is an old—friend,” she stammers while the guy flexes his jaw.

He’s not as tall as me, but he’s older and carries a glint in his dark eyes, appearing more threatening despite the crisp dress shirt he’s wearing and dark blue tailored slacks. The hand held possessively around Sky’s waist makes my jaw clench tight enough to crack teeth.

The chilly air turns my lungs into blocks of ice. She has moved on.

Raking his gaze over me, he must have decided something because he relaxes his posture and holds out a hand. “Dr. Johnny Hawk.”

He had to throw that in there, didn’t he? From his angle, I’m betting he reduced me to nothing but a grifter in my ripped jeans and faded black Henley.

As tempting as it is to list all my own personal accolades, I take the high road for Sky’s sake. Not that it matters anymore. I’ve already lost her.

“August Moore.”

Brushing me off, he peeks down at Sky, who’s still staring wide-eyed in my direction, stiff as a board in this other man’s arms. “I planned on stopping by your house on the way to the hospital. Being the nice boyfriend I am, I grabbed you a coffee.” He lifts a brow in my direction. “Are you done here? I can walk you to your car.”

My spine shoots ramrod straight as Sky nods and takes his outstretched hand.

“Yeah, I’m ready to go now. Thank you.” She wipes under her nose with her sleeve, giving me one last painful glance before leaving with this Johnny.

Watching her walk away, tucked in close to another man, strikes a sharp iron across my chest. I can’t witness her fall for someone else.

But it’s the cost of time and tragedy. It’s wide, all-encompassing. There’s another guy in the picture, one who might be better for her. Who can offer her things I never can.

Trust.

Their footsteps fade like my hope.