Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
RONAN
I’ve been pacing the house since Lily left, trying to outrun the memory of her pressed against the wall, the taste of her lips, and her curves flush against mine.
It’s been three hours. Kitchen to living room to hallway and back. My boots are wearing a path in the dust I haven’t cleaned yet. Every time I pass the front door, my hand goes to the lock to check … always checking.
Old habits die hard.
I try the windows next. They’re all secured … which I already knew. I checked them twice already, but my fingers test the latches anyway. The house is solid around me, yet it doesn’t feel safe. Nothing feels safe with her words echoing around my head.
You’re just scared. Still so fucking scared of letting anyone—
I’d cut her off with a kiss. Silenced her with my mouth because hearing the truth out loud was worse than any lie I could tell myself.
My reflection catches my eye in the darkened window. Tattooed. Broad-shouldered. Nothing like the boy who used to sleep rough … aside from the haunted look on my face. I press my forehead against the cool glass and close my eyes so I can’t see it.
Her pulse had been rabbit-fast under my palm. Her heartbeat hammering against mine when I’d pinned her to the wall. For one perfect second, she’d looked at me like I was still worth saving.
That’s the part that scares me most.
I shake my head and push away, stalking through to the kitchen.
The electrical supplies sit where I left them yesterday, meticulously organized because control is all I have.
The wires are sorted by gauge, junction boxes stacked by size, tools laid out in rows.
Everything in its place …. Except the chaos in my head.
Around three, I give up telling myself I should go to bed. The basement stairs creak as I carry down the first load of supplies. The old panel leers at me from the wall, a rat’s nest of ancient wiring, just waiting to burn this place down.
I pop the panel cover. Whoever did this work didn’t care about what came after. They just wanted to get it done and move on, leaving the consequences for someone else to handle.
My fingers find the wire strippers, and muscle memory takes over. Prison taught me patience. Construction sites taught me precision. Both taught me that if you focus hard enough on the work in front of you, you don’t have to think about anything else.
Cut. Strip. Twist. Connect.
The rhythm is soothing. Each wire pulled free is one less fire hazard, and one less thing waiting to explode. If only I could strip out the damaged parts of myself as easily, and replace what’s broken with something that works.
But people don’t come with instruction manuals, and some damage goes too deep to ever reach.
By the time dawn creeps in through the basement windows, driving away the shadows, I’ve made decent progress. Half of the wiring has been stripped out. I’ve got new circuits mapped and ready.
But I can still feel the way her fingers tangled in my hair. I can still taste her on my tongue. And I can still see her face when I told her to get out.
“Kind of early to be making this much noise.”
I spin toward the voice. Tom is standing at the top of the stairs, two mugs of coffee in his hands.
“Saw your light on, and the front door wasn’t locked.” I sigh. I knew I shouldn’t have left it unlocked when I went out to get some of the tools I’d left in the car. He comes down, taking care on the worn steps. “Figured you could use this.”
The coffee he holds out is black and steaming in the morning chill. I take it because refusing feels like more effort than it’s worth.
“You always check on your neighbors at dawn, or am I special?”
He settles on an old wooden crate. Apparently, he’s not planning to leave any time soon.
“Only the ones who sound like they’re trying to tear their house apart before sunrise.”
I go back to stripping wire, but can feel his eyes on me. It’s not the same as when Dan watched me the other day. He was looking for weakness, for proof I’m still the fuck-up everyone remembers. Tom’s gaze is different. It’s more assessing than judging.
“Harris used to work early too,” he says finally. “Said morning was when everything felt possible.”
The wire strippers slip, nearly cutting my hand. “Did you know him well?”
“Well enough.” He sips his coffee, watching me work. “Enough to know he wasn’t the type to make decisions lightly. Especially not ones like this.”
I don’t ask him to explain what he means. He tells me anyway.
“We talked about you sometimes. He said you had more integrity in your little finger than most people manage in a lifetime.”
My hands still. The wire I’m holding trembles slightly.
“He was wrong.”
“Was he?” Tom leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You could have walked away from this place. No one would have known. Yet here you are, doing the work, and not only that, you’re doing it right.”
“Because I have to. The conditions of his will—”
“The conditions require you to stay and make the house livable. They don’t require you to rewrite the entire electrical circuit yourself. At dawn. Because you can’t sleep.”
The observation hits a little too close. I go back to stripping wire.
“He saw something in you. Something worth investing in. Worth believing in. Maybe it’s time you saw that too.”
It takes every ounce of willpower not to snap and tell him to get out. I focus on the job in front of me.
“You’re pretty good at that. Where did you learn?”
“Prison.” I snap the word, and wait for him to make up a reason to leave.
He doesn’t. “Harris mentioned you were studying. He said you had a mind for engineering, and understanding how things fit together.”
I slap the cutters down. “Stop! Just … stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Acting like you know me.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, turning his coffee cup around in his hands.
“You’re right. I don’t know you.” His voice doesn’t lose that calm, patient tone.
“But I did know Harris, and I knew how much it ate at him that he didn’t help you when you were at school.
He said he saw the signs, but didn’t put them together until it was too late, and by then … ”
My throat closes around words I can’t say, memories I can’t face, and the knowledge that Edwards has left me something I don’t deserve.
“The HOA is going to have opinions about all this work.” There’s a humorous note to his voice now, as he changes the topic. “Beverly is already circling. She’ll be on the hunt for code violations.”
“Let them look. Everything will be up to code.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He stands, brushing invisible dust from his pants. “I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Beverly likes things a certain way, and you’re not exactly what she expected for this street.”
“I’m rarely what anyone expects.”
He laughs. “No.” Something that sounds like approval leaks into his voice. “You’re definitely not.”
He heads for the stairs, then pauses halfway up. “That offer for Friday drinks still stands.”
I don’t answer, and after a second, he leaves me alone to continue with my work.
The sun climbs higher. My coffee goes cold. The pile of old wires grows. And now that Tom has gone, Lily’s voice has returned.
Someday, you’re going to have to stop punishing yourself for surviving.
Those words remind me of Tom’s.
Maybe it’s time you saw that too.
They’re both wrong. Edwards decisions were made out of guilt for not stepping up.
And Lily …
Like I told her, she saw what she wanted to see. A project. A charity case she could fix.
Except …
Except the way she kissed me back didn’t feel like pity. The way her hands fisted in my hair, the sound she made against my mouth, the way she looked at me when I pulled away.
You’re lying. To me. To yourself.
“Fuck.” The word echoes off the walls.
I slide down to sit on the cold floor, back against the wall, surrounded by the guts of a house I’m supposed to be fixing. My phone sits on the toolbox, screen dark. There is only one contact saved, and that belongs to the man who left me this house. But I bet I could find her number if I tried.
I could call her. Tell her I’m sorry for being a bastard, for kissing her like that, and making her cry. I could tell her the truth.
I’m terrified that seven years hasn’t changed how I feel about her. The second I saw her on Main street, every wall I’ve built came crashing down. I don’t know if I could ever be what she deserves.
My hand moves toward the phone, then stops, and falls back onto my lap.
No. Not today. Today I’m just going to keep working, keep breathing, and keep trying to forget the way she looked at me.