42. Shep
42
SHEP
“Your smile is freaking me out.”
I glanced over at Anson as we headed into town in my truck, trying to lessen the grin that had been plastered on my face all weekend. But I had no luck. It couldn’t be helped. “Just because you look like some sort of possessed demon when you smile doesn’t mean the rest of us do.”
Anson just grunted in response. “Doesn’t your face hurt? You haven’t stopped grinning all morning.”
I rolled my eyes as I made the turn onto the main drag through town. Cascade Avenue was still extra crowded from the holiday weekend, tourists lingering to make the most of their trips. I couldn’t stop my gaze from swinging to the bakery, just hoping for a glimpse of dark brown hair through the window.
“Jesus,” Anson clipped. “Keep your eyes on the road.”
My gaze swung back to the traffic in front of us, and I pressed down on the brake to avoid rear-ending a minivan with Idaho plates.
“You are gone ,” he muttered .
“Like you’re any better,” I shot back.
Anson was head over heels for Rhodes. It was like she was the center of his universe, and everything rotated around her.
One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Fair enough.” The half grin dimmed. “Has everything been quiet?”
I nodded, a weight settling in my gut. “Trace is still waiting for the prints to come back on the letter. Russ’s are on file, but Brendan’s aren’t.”
“Of course, they aren’t,” Anson groused. “I might be able to figure out how to get a set…”
“A legal way?”
Anson winced, and I had my answer.
“If Trace can’t use them, it doesn’t do us any good.”
Anson slumped back in his seat. “Yeah, yeah. I just want this guy to fry.”
My hands tightened on the wheel. “You think I don’t? He tortured her.” The words felt like blades in my throat. “Thea’s always battling the tricks her mind plays on her because of everything he’s done. He might not have laid a hand on her, but there are still scars.”
Anson was quiet as I pulled into the hardware store’s parking lot and found an empty spot. “Sometimes, the mental scars are worse.”
I knew that Anson understood that. Probably better than anyone. “But she’s healing.” I could see it in how Thea was growing bolder. How she didn’t brace. How she let her guard down around my family. I looked at Anson. “And you’re healing, too.”
Anson stared back at me. “What about you?”
I stiffened for a moment and then let the flash of annoyance melt away. He wasn’t asking to push or be nosy but because he cared. “I’ll always wish that I saw Silas for who he was. And hate that I’m the reason he was able to get to you and Rho.”
“But?” Anson pressed.
“But I’m starting to see just how convincing evil can be. Sometimes, it comes in a pretty or unassuming package. And I don’t want to be the kind of person who searches for the bad in everyone who crosses my path. I don’t want to let what happened change me. ”
It was the first time I’d said those realizations aloud. But the truth was, Thea had helped me see them. I saw how Brendan had charmed her, pulled her in. In feeling for her, I started having a little more empathy for myself.
“In other words, you know what happened to Rhodes wasn’t your fault.”
I swallowed through the tightness in my throat. “I know. Do you?”
Anson stared back at me. “She’s kicked my ass into believing it.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “My sister is fierce when it comes to the people she loves.”
Anson clapped me on the shoulder as he reached for the door handle. “So are you. And that makes us all damn lucky to have you.”
As I shut off the engine and climbed out of my truck, I really let those words land. Let the feeling of them hit my chest and expand. I was so damn lucky to have the family I did. The friends. Thea. And I wouldn’t underestimate the miracle that was all of that.
Anson and I walked toward the hardware store, heading for the back counter to place an order for the new windows before we went to grab lunch. But as we approached, a prickle of guilt slid over me.
Blond hair shifted as the woman at the counter looked up. The moment her blue eyes locked on me, hurt filled them.
Fuck.
“Hey, Mara,” I greeted, trying to keep my expression warm.
She swallowed, forcing a smile. “Shep, hey.” She glanced at the man next to me. “Anson.”
He simply lifted his chin in answer.
I tugged a piece of paper from my pocket, sliding it over the counter to her. “Could you put in an order for these?”
Mara glanced down, her eyes skimming over the dimensions, brand, and product numbers. A more genuine smile tipped her lips. “Opening up the old girl?”
A little of the tension left me. This had always been where things between Mara and me were easy. Construction, rehab, restoration. “Yeah. Way too dark in there. ”
“I bet.” She began typing away on her computer. “Those old places are beautiful but stuffy.”
“Won’t be for long.”
Mara’s gaze flicked up to me, softening. “I have no doubt.” Her fingers stilled on the keyboard. “Your hand doing okay?”
I flexed my fingers on instinct. “Fine now.”
She nodded, tugging the corner of her lip between her teeth. “Heard Russ was making trouble for you.”
Hell.
I didn’t want to get into this. “Tried to. But everything’s good.”
Mara started typing again, but it was slower, as if she was drawing it out. “Watch your back around that one. He’s a snake. Always has been.”
“I will.”
After a few more minutes, she had everything ordered. “On your account?”
“Please,” I said.
“You got it. Should be here in a few weeks, but I’ll see if we can put a rush on it. No charge.”
“You don’t have to do that?—”
“I want to,” Mara assured me.
But that assurance made my gut churn. “All right. Appreciate it. Have a good week.”
Mara’s gaze hovered on my face for just a moment too long. “You, too.”
Anson and I headed back through the store to the front door.
“She’s not giving up,” Anson said, pitching his voice low.
My gaze flicked to him. “She wants something that never really existed.”
Because Mara and I had never had depth to our relationship. We did the normal couple things, but we never talked about the real stuff. She didn’t make me feel seen the way Thea does. Didn’t light my blood on fire.
“Maybe so, but the imagination is a powerful thing,” Anson muttered. “I’d keep your distance for a while. ”
“I’m trying to,” I gritted out as we stepped out into the sunshine.
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Anson shot back.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn’t Box Baby and Murder Boy.”
I looked up to see Russ striding toward us, his dad, Bob, at his side. The nickname had always gotten under my skin—the cruel reminder of a painful truth. But when it hit me this time, it didn’t land like it usually did. It didn’t sting or burn. It had another effect altogether. Gratitude.
And it was then that I realized something had shifted.
It wasn’t like suddenly seeing the world in color, but it was a slight alteration, like the tuning of an instrument. Still, that tiny adjustment changed how you heard everything.
Because Russ’s barb just reminded me of where that abandonment had brought me. To the most incredible family I could’ve asked for. To discovering a purpose in what I did. To finding a true home. And I could see more clearly than ever that those bonds didn’t have to be earned. Not by being good enough or perfect . They were given simply because I was chosen family.
So, instead of being annoyed, I grinned. It didn’t hurt that Russ was still rocking a bandage across his nose and some bruising under one eye. “Russ, see you’re just as charming as ever.”
Bob bristled at that. “Don’t you talk to my boy. You think because the Colsons took you in that your shit don’t stink. But you’re nothing. Just a bastard, through and through.”
I saw this clearer now, too. How Russ had come to be the cruel prick he was. He hadn’t been born that way. It had been learned.
I met Bob’s angry gaze. “You don’t want your boy to run into trouble, then maybe you should’ve taught him not to put his hands on a woman who doesn’t want them there. But I’m guessing he learned that bullshit at home.”
Bob’s face turned the shade of a tomato as he charged forward. “Don’t you talk to me that way, you little shit. I?—”
“Think that’s enough,” Anson cut in, shoving Bob back. “There are cameras on that building right there. And any action you take, I’ll make sure a report lands on Trace’s desk.”
Bob blustered and fumed, but Russ didn’t move an inch. His gaze stayed locked on me, furious. “Those cameras won’t always be watching, Box Baby. Watch your back.”