Chapter 23
Three Years Prior
“You’ve never been alone a single day of your adult life, Ayden. You need me.”
Anyone would ask what the hell I’m doing. How did Ayden Pierce end up back with his abusive ex—right here, in his apartment?
Even Alysa gives me grief. She swears it’s guilt, that I came back because I left him once before. She couldn’t be more wrong.
I’m terrified of him.
I don’t understand his obsession with me. It’s not like he couldn’t have someone else—he’s good-looking, charming when he wants to be. I’ve seen it. I saw him cheat, then heard the half-assed apology, the tiny flicker of responsibility, before he shoved the blame back on me.
That first time, I should’ve ended it. Maybe things would’ve been different.
Leaning against the closed front door, eyes cast down, I squeeze the lion tattoo inked on my left arm that dangles at my side.
“You know that, right?” he asks, stepping closer.
“Yeah,” I mutter.
“I just want to take care of you. Why fight that? You’re so fucking confusing.” His condescending tone blends with his laughter, tightening every muscle in my back and chest. “If you’d been with me, this never would’ve happened.”
No. This never would’ve happened if you’d just left me alone.
That’s what I want to say. But instead, I swallow it down, because I know he sent that “mugger” after me in the hospital parking lot.
Do I have proof? No. But it was a little too convenient that he was the officer called to the scene.
He’s not just a narcissist—he’s got a hero complex, too.
It’s not hard to put two and two together. I’m not stupid, even if he implies all the time I am.
“Why wouldn’t it have happened, Michael?” I try to keep the petulance out of my voice.
His sigh is heavy with irritation as he closes the short distance between us. I don’t want him touching me, but he’s proven over and over that what I want doesn’t matter.
He grips my chin roughly, forcing my gaze to his. “Because I’d have been there to pick you up from work. Like I always do.”
I try to turn my head, but his hand holds me in place. So instead, I look past him into the apartment. “Sure.”
His nails dig into my cheeks, sharp enough to sting. My hands fly up instinctively to push him away.
“We do this every couple of weeks, babe. It’s getting old.”
When I shove, he lets me—for a second—before coming right back, rougher than before. His hand clamps around my throat, pinning me to the door. I swing my fists, but he doesn’t budge.
When he finally lets go after ‘asserting his dominance’, I grab at my own throat, coughing.
“I wasn’t that rough. Stop being my dramatic princess.”
I don’t know which word I hate more—princess or babe.
Or maybe it’s simpler than that. I just hate him.
But what can I do?
I can’t call the cops. Even if one of them would help me, what are the odds I’d get a good one? There are advocacy hotlines, but he’d find out before anyone could actually reach me.
I could call Dad.
Maybe run to Keoni…
But they’d probably judge me. They’d see me the way Michael does—weak. A man broken down into exactly what he’s made me.
A sudden grip on the back of my neck snaps me from my spiraling thoughts. Then his mouth’s against mine. I claw at his shirt, trying to shove him back, but he overpowers me easily, his tongue forcing its way in.
“Stop!” I slam my elbow against his throat, desperate to push him off. “No, Mike! Stop!”
He tries again, and this time, I bite down hard on his lip. He grunts, stumbling back a step.
The smile he gives me—angry, amused—sends a shiver of pure terror down my spine.
“Ayden, you’re testing my patience. Let’s just fuck this out of our system. You’ll get over it in the morning.”
He advances on me again and I throw my hands up. “I don’t want to. Don’t fucking touch me. We need space!”
The laugh he produces has my mind prepping to separate itself from my body for protection from what’s going to come. “We’re together, Ayden. I can touch what’s mine.”
“This is me stating: I don’t give you consent.”
He tuts. “You’re my boyfriend. That’s consent, babe.”
I shake my head. “It’s not. It’s… not.”
His chest expands as he straightens. To anyone else, it might look like he’s calming down—understanding, ready to let it go.
But I know better. I’ve seen this before, and I know what comes after.
The choices in front of me don’t favor me. Each one hurts. But if I have to choose, I’ll take the physical abuse over the mental.
At least bruises fade.
“Mr. Pierce?” The sweet woman at the counter calls my name, and I quickly get to my feet. “Dr. Alvarez will speak with you now.”
I’d thoroughly planned on seeing Calista this week, but Saturday night reminded me that I really need to figure out my life here. Regardless of what happens in a few days, if I find the strength to tell Keoni about my relationship with Michael or not, I’m not going anywhere.
Whether that is me living in the cabin with him, or moving into an apartment in downtown Maple Falls, is still to be decided.
I walk through the single door to the right of the reception desk, and move into the small hall before turning right into a room that reads “Office.”
The male with light brown skin and rimmed glasses stands. “Ayden.” He rounds the table and extends his hand out to me. “It’s so good to meet you. Your father spoke highly of you.”
He… did?
Taking his hand when I’m close enough, I suppress the urge to ask that question.
“Thanks for seeing me, Dr. Alvarez.”
“Of course, please—sit.”
I do as he says, lowering myself into the plastic white chair across from his rolling one. He closes the laptop on the desk and offers me a smile. “When you called, I must say, I was surprised.”
I force a smile back and clear my throat, cringing at how obvious it feels. “I’d meant to come sooner, but things have been…” I tilt my head side to side, weighing my word choice. “Difficult.”
“There’s no need to explain. You said on the phone you had something to discuss? We shipped your father’s belongings to the cabin in Sapphire Valley.”
Nodding, I cross one leg over the other. “Yes, we received them. It’s not about that. I was wondering if you had any openings—for ICU nurses, general nurses, really anything. I’m registered in California, currently at SF General. I submitted my RN licensure application through DORA yesterday.”
His smile widens. “You’d leave California for a small town like Maple Falls? Walk away from SF General? That’s… surprising.”
“I would,” I answer without hesitation.
“That would’ve made your father very happy. Are you staying up at the cabin?”
“Yes, at least for now.”
He hums softly but doesn’t move to reopen the laptop. My stomach tightens. Maybe this was presumptuous. He doesn’t know my work ethic, and maybe I’ve romanticized this small-town hospital thing. Maybe it’s no different than the politics of a big city.
The silence thickens, stretching. For a moment, I consider standing up and walking out.
“From my understanding, the process of transferring your license takes four to six weeks. Have you gone through the background check?”
I knew that question was coming, so I don’t flinch. “I’ll be doing it next week. I’ve set up an appointment in Denver.”
He nods once more, and grins, pulling out all the wrinkles in his face. “Once everything is set, and you’re legal to work here in Colorado as a registered nurse, we would be lucky to have you. Do you have references from SF General?”
“I do.”
As he pulls out a pen and paper, I say, “Dr. Markus Yadav.”
“I’ll get in contact with him once all the paperwork is submitted, you know, just so I’m not showing favoritism or anything.” He winks at me and tucks his pen away. “Let me know once everything comes back, and you’ve got yourself a job.”
After thanking him about a million times—and getting lots of ‘don’t mention it’—he gives me a quick tour of the main hospital in Maple Falls.
It’s nothing like SF General, but honestly, I think I like it more.
I can already imagine myself bouncing between general nursing one day and the ICU the next.
It feels like a place where my days won’t be boring.
And the fire station where Keoni works is just down the street. I could bring him lunch, or dinner, whenever he is free.
Thinking about him drags me back to how we left things Saturday night. I’d gone straight inside, right upstairs, and shut myself off. Because I know what I saw—one of the officers definitely had his phone pointed at us. For what, I’m not sure, but I had a good enough idea of what it could mean.
That night, I texted Michael.
Michael
Please don’t tell me you’ve had me followed here in Colorado, Michael
It’s gone unread, and it’s Tuesday.
What else has gone unread, is my text to Keoni.
Keo
Keo, I’m sorry I reacted that way
I’ll start seeing a therapist, I think it’ll be good for me
I’m sorry…
I know I don’t deserve to ask, but please don’t ignore me
Instead of sitting down for lunch, I grab a sub to go and call a cab back to the cabin. On the ride, I wonder if I’d shown up at the station, would Keo have talked to me? Kali or Taylor probably would’ve made him, or at least insisted I eat with them.
But I don’t want to eat with them.
I want Keo.
As the cab winds through Sapphire Valley, I catch myself itching to tell the driver to turn left instead so I could see Calista. Then I remind myself—it’s the middle of the week. Odds are, no one’s home. And if she is, she’s probably working.
Truth is, I have no idea what she even does. Maybe she’s rich and doesn’t have to work at all. Maybe her boyfriend works, and she just stays home.
I don’t know, but I’ll make a mental note to figure that out sometime this week. But, showing up at her cabin at two in the afternoon doesn’t feel like the right thing to do.
The moment the trees break and Wildhart comes into view, my heart sinks.
There’s a car parked out front. Not Keo’s truck. Not a work van either, so the hope that the plumbers showed up weeks early is out.
As we roll closer, I see him. Standing on the patio.
Oh no.
His gaze cuts to the cab, and it’s already too late to tell the driver to turn around. I could, sure—but he’d probably just get in his car and follow me.
Maybe I should have the driver head to the station instead. That’s probably smarter.
But what if it’s not?
Shit.
How the hell did he even know about this place?
The cab pulls to a stop beside the black sedan. My pulse spikes as I dig for my phone.
Keo
Please come home. I need help
I make sure the text goes through before silencing my phone.
Grabbing the paper bag with my sandwich, I pay the driver and step out.
My walk toward the porch is slow, cautious. Michael leans against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, anger carved deep into his face. His wide nose flares, thick lips pressed into a hard frown.
I swallow, forcing out a shaky breath. “Michael. What’re you doing here?”
He pushes off the wall, moving to stand right at the top of the steps, staring down at me. “No hi? No ‘it’s good to see you’?”
“Hi,” I mutter, glancing at the taxi as it pulls away, vanishing down the road. “How’d you know where to find me?”
A groan rumbles from him. “How about you invite me in, and we talk inside? It’s cold as fuck.”
The last thing I want is to be trapped in an enclosed space with him. I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why are you here?”
The moment he steps down, I retreat one step back.
“I’m just here to talk. Don’t be so dramatic, Ayden. Come on, you’ll get cold too.”
My skin burns hot, my chest tight. Freezing out here is the last thing I’m worried about.
When I don’t move, or answer, he shakes his head and digs into his pocket. “Fine.”
He pulls out a single key. My brows lift, confusion sparking.
“You know, spare keys are dangerous,” he seethes, angling toward the rounded lamp beside the front door. “Even out here in the middle of nowhere. Hiding it in the light? Couldn’t be more obvious. But you’re not living alone—”
My heart stops. “What?”
“—so what do you have to be afraid of? Now get inside, and let’s fucking talk.”