Chapter Twelve
Cash
I stopped to fill up, and as I waited for the pump to stop, I saw her sitting in the window of The Bake Shoppe. This was the first time I had seen her in town.
It felt a little like seeing an animal in the wild for the first time.
I didn’t have any intention of speaking to her when I walked across the street. But then Trudy, bless her meddling heart, introduced me to Kytten.
Hearing the name threw me for a minute. But as I thought about it, the pieces started to fall into place. The motorcycle. Her knowledge of clubs and road names.
From that, I figured out who she was. She was a fucking Nyght Nymph. We knew who they were. Had heard stories of Valhalla and her Nymphs and what they did. And while what they did was commendable, I couldn’t help but wonder...
Why was she here?
Was it for Amber? Or someone else?
We knew Valhalla had helped Amber escape from Louisiana and given her a new identity. Was Kytten here to check up on her, or was there someone in town who needed to get away that we didn’t know about?
Was she here for Sadie?
We knew about her asshole boyfriend. Colt had gotten involved once when he saw the bastard mistreat her. But Sadie begged us to stay out of it. Since then, we hadn’t seen or heard about any issues.
We assumed he’d learned his lesson from the beatdown Colt gave him. But maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Sadie had reached out to the Nyght Nymphs to get her out of Diamond Creek.
But would she leave her brother Simon? Would he disappear with her? As I sat across from Kytten, questions piled up in my head. Questions that she had the answers to.
Answers I would get today.
When I asked her how old she was, I held my breath until I heard Trudy answer that she was twenty-one.
Thank fucking Christ!
During the week she avoided me, I had given in and admitted to myself that I wanted her. I hadn’t told anyone else. Not even three months had passed since Rachel died. And here I was, already thinking about someone else.
She wasn’t even cold in the ground before I was fucking other women. But I was angry then. Angry at her. Pissed off that Ryder meant more to her than I did.
“She’s cute, isn’t she?”
Trudy’s voice interrupted the tirade I was having inside my head. When I turned to look at her, she had a smile that said she wasn’t a fool.
I smiled back. “Yea, she is.”
I sipped my coffee and looked at my bike across the street. No one would mess with it. They knew better. And I knew better than to leave immediately after Kytten did.
Not Kytten.
Rose.
Rosie.
Trudy already suspected. I wouldn’t give her the ammunition she needed to start a rumor.
“You know I was only in my late forties when my Terry got sick.”
I paused, the coffee mug halfway between the table and my mouth. I set it back down, ready to cut Trudy off, but she continued before I could say a word.
“We used to talk all the time about what we wanted the other person to do if something happened to one of us.”
“Miss Trudy—”
“Hush, Cash. The grown-ups are talking.”
I chuckled at her admonishment, picking up my cup. Might as well finish my drink since she wouldn’t let me speak.
“He always told me he wanted me to find someone else. That he didn’t want me to be alone.” She sighed heavily, and I knew she must have loved him dearly. “I told him he better die alone because there wasn’t a woman on this earth who could take my place.”
I spit my coffee out across the table and laughed. “Miss Trudy,” I started.
“Am I wrong?” she asked, a lone eyebrow rising with her question.
“No, ma’am,” I admitted, shaking my head.
“Anyway. I promised Terry that if I met someone, I would give it an honest try. That I wouldn’t just write off every man that approached me.”
“And did you?” I asked, my gaze focused on the window and the world outside the small shop.
“I did. There were a couple of men over the years I thought might go the distance. None of them ever measured up to my Terry. But I go to sleep every night knowing I did what he asked me to do.”
I thought about Rachel’s letter. Her words stung once again as I ran over them in my head. Her words telling me she knew I loved her the best I could. And the idea that there was someone else out there for me. Someone I could love the way I couldn’t love her.
A vision of Rose swam before my eyes. Her pink fucking hair and whiskey eyes. Her sexy little body that I could pick up and toss around. I squirmed in my seat, embarrassed to be getting hard in front of Trudy.
“My point is, Cash. You have to try.”
“It’s been less than three months, Trudy.” The guilt of even considering moving on in the short amount of time since Rachel died had my dick deflating instantly.
“I’m not telling you to go out and find someone. I’m telling you to be open to someone finding you.” She patted my arm and left me alone.
When she disappeared behind the swinging door, I tossed a few twenties in the tip jar and slipped outside, making my way back to my bike. I had an appointment today I couldn’t miss again.
I sat on Haizley’s couch, arguing with myself in my head. The asshole on my shoulder told me I didn’t need to talk about shit. But then there was Rachel’s voice in my head, begging me to talk to someone.
“How long do you think is the right amount of time to grieve?”
Haizley set her phone face down on her lap and looked up.
“There is no set amount of time that is right. Each person is different. Some people grieve loss forever, never moving on. Others can’t be alone for various reasons and move on immediately.
The amount of time you grieve does not correlate to how much you loved the person you lost.”
I knew she was right. But the world had a different opinion. Society had very specific views on how fast or slow one moved on after losing someone.
It didn’t matter if it was a spouse or a child. A friend or a lover. People expected you to grieve for what they deemed an appropriate amount of time.
The problem was, everyone differed on what was appropriate.
“Rachel wanted me to move on,” I said. I didn’t know how she did it, but Haizley had a way of getting me to admit things I didn’t want to tell anyone.
“What did she say?”
I cleared my throat but still had trouble getting the words past the lump in my chest. I rubbed at my chest and spat out, “She told me I was her forever, but she wasn’t mine.”
I stood and walked to the window. I couldn’t look at Haizley while I said this. The guilt that Rachel didn’t feel loved the way she loved ate at me. How could I love someone else more than her without it affecting me?
“She told me to grieve how I needed to. But when I met my forever, even if it was the day after her death, to love her the way I couldn’t love Rachel.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stem the shame. Haizley was quiet behind me. I wanted to scream at her to say something. When I finally turned around, Haizley wasn’t even looking at me.
“Have you met someone?”
I snorted and turned back to the window. I couldn’t look her in the eye and lie to her, so I just didn’t answer.
“Can I ask you a question without you storming out?”
“You can ask. I can’t promise I’ll answer.”
“Why are you so angry at Rachel?”
I turned, and my mouth dropped open. “You really have to ask?”
“I do. I’m not sure I understand the reason. To be honest, I’m not sure you do either.”
“Then tell me why I’m so angry,” I snarked, throwing my arms out wide. “I’m all fucking ears, Doc.”
She took a deep breath and said, “Cash, my job is to help you understand why you feel the way you do. In order to do that, I need you to tell me why you’re angry.”
“Because she fucking lied to me! Our whole goddamn relationship she lied about being sick. She never once told me anything was wrong.”
“If she had told you about her condition at the beginning, would you have treated her differently?”
“Of course I fucking would!” I shouted.
I never would have put her on the back of my bike if I’d known what was going on inside her head.
She knew that.
Haizley stayed silent. Her knowing gaze told me she could read my thoughts. I hadn’t let her read the letter, but Rachel had been right. I never would have taken a chance with her life had I known.
I would have treated her like china. Afraid she would break with any minor movement.
“What if I was too rough with her? What if she banged her head on the fucking headboard while we were having sex and I killed her? She had no goddamn right keeping that shit from me.”
“Where are you going?” Haizley called as I stormed out the door. “Cash! Goddammit!”
Maybe one of these sessions I would make it the full hour. But not today. I jumped on my bike and tore out of her driveway. Without thinking, my bike turned in the direction of the mountain.
I got to the top and sat on my bike. I told Rose three o’clock. That was forty-five minutes away, but I heard the sound of her bike riding up the trail.
Her handlebars shook when she saw me, but she corrected quickly. She came to a stop and shut off her bike. We sat facing each other, staring at one another, willing the other to move first. Look away, get off the bike. Ride back down the path. It didn’t matter. Neither of us moved.
“Why are you here?”
She blinked at my rough bark. “You told me to come.”
I shook my head, trying to wipe away the innocent look on her face. I swung my leg over, taking quick steps until I was right in front of her. “Why are you in Diamond Creek? Who are you here for?”
Her eyes widened at my question. Her hand went to the key still in the ignition and she turned it, as she flipped her kick stand up. I reached over and turned it off, before pulling the keys from the bike and putting them in my pocket.
“What the fuck? Give me the key!”
“Answer my fucking question.”
I was taking my anger out on her. It was a dick move, but she was here. She was the reason I asked about grief. She was the reason the conversation came up at all. I wanted to leave Rachel in the ground where she was.
But this sexy little pixie was stirring up shit I wasn’t ready to face.
“Who are you here for? Amber?”
She narrowed her eyes at me, then turned away toward the path that led down the mountain.
“Kytten, where the fuck are you going?”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t even acknowledge she heard me. I ran after her, grabbed her arm, and swung her around.
“Where are you going?”
“Why do you care?” she asked, trying to pull her arm free.
“I know who you are. So tell me, who are you here for?” I asked again, adding a growl to my voice to let her know I wasn’t letting this slide.