Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
After taking her dad to visit her mom at the rehabilitation center, Asha had returned home with him, his exhaustion evident in the slow shuffle of his steps. He’d headed to his room for a nap, leaving her to prepare dinner. The rhythmic tasks of cleaning vegetables and peeling potatoes had given her far too much time to think, each slice of the knife bringing another wave of doubt, fear, and frustration. Now, with the meal prepped and the house steeped in stillness, her thoughts had nowhere to go but inward.
The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that was usually a source of comfort. But today, it only seemed to amplify the chaos inside her head. She paced from the kitchen to the living room and back again, the floor creaking under her restless steps. Normally, she prided herself on being logical, decisive. She could analyze a situation, weigh the pros and cons, and make a choice without second-guessing herself.
But now? She was a tangled mess of emotions, and it was driving her mad.
She gripped the edge of the counter as if it might anchor her. Two days of going over Maddy’s words hadn’t given her the clarity she’d hoped for. Instead, it had only opened a floodgate of fears she’d spent years trying to keep at bay.
“What he did to you was a violation of trust and power.”
Asha’s stomach tightened, her jaw clenching as the memory of his voice echoed in her mind. That deep, resonant tone, laced with charm, had once made her feel seen, valued. Now it made her skin crawl. How could she have been so blind?
She pushed off the counter and crossed to the sink, turning on the faucet to wash the potatoes. It was nice to hear something other than the relentless noise in her head. The rush of water wasn’t enough to drown out Maddy’s next words.
“If he did this to you, he could do it to someone else—or worse, he might already have.”
Her chest ached at the thought. It wasn’t only her anymore. What if there were others? What if he’d used that same charm, that same calculated attention, to hurt someone else? The idea of another girl—or boy—feeling the way she had made her throat tighten.
And yet, the fear of speaking up felt insurmountable.
“But what if no one believes me?”
Her voice from that day rang in her ears, and she winced. It had sounded so weak, so spineless. Exactly how she felt now.
She turned off the faucet with a sharp twist, the rush of the water abruptly silenced. The quiet pressed in again, heavy and suffocating. She drifted her gaze to the table, where her laptop sat closed next to a half-empty cup of tea. The tea had gone cold hours ago, but she hadn’t bothered to heat it up. She hadn’t been able to focus long enough to finish it, let alone do anything productive.
Asha dropped into a chair, leaning forward and pressing her palms into her temples. Normally, she thrived under pressure. She’d built a career on her ability to compartmentalize, to set aside emotions, and focus on the task at hand. But this wasn’t work. This wasn’t some abstract legal problem she could solve with logic and a well-crafted argument.
This was personal. Messy. Painful.
She groaned, sitting back and letting her head fall against the chair. Her gaze fixed on the ceiling, but her thoughts remained inward, circling the same questions again and again.
Why now? Why had this all come crashing back the moment she’d seen him in the grocery store? She’d spent years burying it, locking it away in a box labeled Do Not Open . It wasn’t supposed to matter anymore. She wasn’t that naive teenager anymore, so why did she feel so small? So helpless?
She tapped her foot against the floor, an unconscious rhythm that betrayed her irritation. Not with him—though that anger simmered constantly beneath the surface—but with herself. She should be better than this. Stronger. More in control.
She huffed out a bitter laugh. Control. What a joke. She hadn’t felt in control since she’d set foot back in Peaceful. Zane, her parents, the town itself—it was all pulling her in directions she hadn’t planned for. And now this.
Maddy’s words resurfaced again.
“It’s not about them, Asha. It’s about you—and about protecting others who might be at risk.”
Asha rubbed her hands over her face, frustration prickling at her skin. Protecting others. The idea gnawed at her, as relentless as her own memories. She didn’t owe anyone anything, did she? She’d done what she had to survive, to move on. But the faces of those kids in the grocery store—the ones laughing and joking as they grabbed snacks from the shelves—haunted her. Could one of them be next?
She slammed her hands onto the table and pushed herself to her feet. The movement was too abrupt, and the chair scraped loudly against the floor. The sound jarred her, but it wasn’t enough to shake the burgeoning tension in her chest.
She crossed to the window, pulled back the curtain, and stared out at the quiet street. Her neighbors’ cars were parked neatly in their driveways. Kids’ bikes leaned against fences. The peaceful scene only made her feel more out of place.
Was she supposed to be the one to shatter that peace? To throw a stone into the calm waters of this town and watch the ripples spread?
Her reflection in the glass caught her attention, and she frowned at the woman staring back at her. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, stray strands framing her tired face. The dark circles under her eyes betrayed the sleepless nights she hadn’t been able to shake. She looked like a stranger to herself—worn down, unsure.
She leaned her forehead against the cool glass. Maybe Maddy was right. Maybe it wasn’t about whether people believed her. Maybe it was about standing up, about refusing to let him hold that power over her.
But the thought of saying the words aloud, of exposing herself like that, made her stomach twist. What if it changed everything? What if she couldn’t go back?
Asha closed her eyes, her breath fogging the glass. She stayed like that for a long moment, listening to the faint hum of the refrigerator behind her, the creak of the house settling.
Her thoughts drifted to Zane. He was one of the few steady things in her life right now, even if she wasn’t sure she deserved him. What would he think if he knew? Would he understand, or would he see her differently?
Her chest tightened. She didn’t want his pity. She wanted his love, his respect. But to keep that, she’d have to keep this part of her hidden, wouldn’t she?
The knot in her stomach pulled tighter. She shook her head, let the curtain fall back in place, and stepped away from the window, pacing again.
“I’ll figure it out,” she muttered to herself, the words hollow. She wasn’t sure she believed them, but they were all she had.
The sharp rap on the door jolted Asha from her thoughts. She placed the knife down carefully on the cutting board and wiped her hands on the towel draped over her shoulder. A distraction was welcome—anything to stop her spiraling thoughts. Yet, as she went to the door, a knot of anticipation tightened in her stomach.
Asha swung open the door to find Zane standing there, his hazel eyes bright against the late afternoon sun. He had a familiar ease about him, but something in his expression felt weighted. Balanced on one shoulder, he carried the old porch swing, its wooden slats now gleaming as though newly made.
“I fixed it,” he said, his grin crooked and boyish.
She blinked, a rush of warmth spreading through her chest. “The porch swing?”
“Figured it deserved a second chance,” he said, stepping inside just enough for her to notice the faint creak of the staircase behind her.
“Dad, I thought you were asleep,” she called out as she turned toward the sound.
“I did nap,” her father replied, appearing at the top of the stairs, his voice gruff but teasing, “but this is too fine a day to let waste away. Show me, son—what did you bring?”
Zane held up the swing, his grin widening. “I brought back the swing.”
Her dad descended the stairs with careful steady strides, and his eyes lit up when he saw the restored piece of furniture. He ran a hand over the smooth surface, nodding approvingly. “That’s a fine job. It looks better than new.”
“Well, if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well,” Zane replied.
The men laughed together, the sound filling the space like a balm against the heavy quiet of earlier. Asha lingered by the doorway, resting her hands on her hips as she watched the exchange.
Her father clapped Zane on the shoulder. “Why don’t you stay for dinner, son? We’ve got plenty to share.”
Zane hesitated, glancing briefly at Asha. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“It’s no bother,” she reassured him, wiping her hands over her jeans-clad thighs. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour. I’m making meatloaf, so we’ve got food to spare.”
Zane’s eyes softened as he met hers. “Well, in that case, thank you. I’d love to.”
The three moved outside briefly to set up the swing, her dad admiring Zane’s craftsmanship and talking about plans to sit there once her mom came home. The conversation shifted easily, moving from the pleasant weather to the influx of tourists in town. By the time they returned to the kitchen, the air between them felt lighter, more familiar.
As the men settled at the table, chatting about Mrs. Williams’s impressive recovery—three and a half weeks until she was expected to return home—Asha busied herself with finishing the dinner preparations. Her hands moved automatically as she stirred the sauce and set the table, but her mind was elsewhere.
Zane’s easy laugh mingled with her father’s deep chuckle, grounding her in a way she didn’t know she needed. Yet, beneath that sense of comfort, the pressure inside her mounted. She glanced at Zane from the corner of her eye, his profile striking against the fading light pouring in through the window.
How could she tell him? How could she shatter the pedestal on which he’d placed their mentor?
She swallowed hard, tightening her hand around the serving spoon. Maddy’s words echoed in her mind, clear and steady: It’s not about them. It’s about you—and about protecting others who might be at risk.
Dinner was almost ready, but Asha wasn’t sure how she could broach the subject with Zane—even if she wanted to do just that.
Dinner had been a resounding success. Asha was an amazing cook, something Zane had only begun to appreciate in recent weeks. The meatloaf had been perfectly seasoned, accompanied by creamy mashed potatoes and green beans sautéed with garlic. Despite protests from both Asha and her dad, Zane rolled up his sleeves and joined in on the cleanup, insisting that no one should have to tackle the dishes after a meal like that.
When the kitchen gleamed once more, they settled into the cozy living room. Asha appeared with dessert—individual chocolate lava cakes, their molten centers oozing decadence at the first bite. Zane couldn’t help but let out a low whistle of appreciation as the rich, gooey chocolate melted on his tongue.
Mr. Williams leaned back in his armchair, switching on the television. “CNN or Netflix?”
“Your call,” Zane said, trying to suppress a grin as he saw Asha roll her eyes at her father’s predictable choices.
The conversation in the living room drifted comfortably from one topic to another, the warmth of good food and better company settling over them. Zane tried to focus on the banter and Asha’s laugh, but his thoughts kept circling back to MacCready. Lou’s suspicions had lingered in Zane’s mind like a stubborn ember, refusing to be extinguished.
Why would anyone target a man like Tate MacCready? The idea didn’t sit right with him. He couldn’t ignore Lou’s instincts that something was off, but Zane couldn’t reconcile it with the mentor who had guided him toward firefighting, who’d helped Asha shape her path to law. No, this had to be some unfortunate coincidence.
He forced the thoughts aside as Mr. Williams cleared his throat. “You’ve gone awfully quiet. What’s on your mind, son?”
Zane offered a small smile, shaking his head. “Just thinking about how beautiful it is up in the hills this time of year. I’ve got the next two days off, and I was wondering if Asha might want to go hiking or camping with me.”
Asha raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking. “Hiking? I’m not sure my big city legs can handle your Appalachian trails.”
Zane chuckled, leaning back on the couch. “They’re not that tough. Well, unless you’re looking to do the long trails. But we’ll stick to something manageable for city folk. Maybe even a campsite with a real bathroom—just for you.”
She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Real bathrooms? What are you implying, mountain man?”
“I’m implying that you like your creature comforts,” Zane teased, enjoying their banter. “But don’t worry. I’ll bring plenty of bug spray and a comfortable chair so you can relax while I do all the hard work.”
Asha smirked, crossing her arms. “Oh, you think you’re so funny.”
Mr. Williams chuckled from his armchair, shaking his head. “You two sound like an old married couple already.”
Zane glanced at him, warmth spreading in his chest at the older man’s easy acceptance of him being there. “Will you be all right for a couple of days if I take Asha out? I’ll make sure she’s back before your next doctor’s appointment.”
The man waved him off with a dismissive hand. “I’ll be fine. I can drive myself now, and I sure don’t need her holding my hand for every little thing. Go, have fun. You’re young—you should be hanging out with someone your age, not an old man like me.”
Asha tilted her head, her gaze softening as she regarded her father. “Are you sure, Dad? I don’t want you overdoing it.”
“I’m sure.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Just promise me you’ll actually enjoy yourself and not spend the whole time fretting about me.”
Asha sighed, a mix of exasperation and affection coloring her expression. “Fine, but don’t come calling me when you forget to pick up your prescriptions.”
Zane grinned. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll make sure she unwinds properly. A little nature does wonders for the soul.”
Her father snorted. “Good luck with that, son. She’s always had trouble sitting still, even as a kid.”
Asha rolled her eyes, a laugh escaping her. “Great. Now I’m being ganged up on.”
Zane leaned closer, his voice low enough for only her to hear. “Better get used to it. We’re not letting you wriggle out of this one.”
She gave him a long look, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “All right, mountain man. Let’s see if you can keep up.”