Chapter 22 Laura
TWENTY-TWO
LAURA
THREE MONTHS AGO
I was standing on a bus platform, watching as people loaded up their bags and suitcases into the undercarriage of the greyhound. Killian had loaded my things without me even asking. Which was fine.
I wasn’t going to pretend like the night prior hadn’t happened, and by the looks he continued to give me, perhaps he wouldn’t either.
The way he’d hesitate before saying he just wanted a chance to fuck me before I left…
there was something broken in me because why did I want to call his bluff?
That desire right there was why I needed to go.
It was better this way. I was leaving before getting into some complicated and confusing relationship with this biker who seemed too angry and confused for his own good.
I knew about baggage, and Killian had a ton of it.
When Callie hugged me and said her goodbyes, Killian stepped up.
I was toe to toe with this giant of a man, this larger-than-life person who somehow got under my skin within a matter of days and was now going to be a stain on my memory, and maybe even my heart.
He was staring at me like he was thinking the same thing.
Like I’d dug too far into his chest, too soon, and without any permission.
We didn’t go on a date. He hadn’t brought me flowers or told me I was beautiful.
He was mean and cold.
And different.
Still, when he handed me the tiny pebble, my heart thundered as swiftly as a racehorse gunning for the winning lap.
He didn’t have to say anything. I understood the gesture from what he’d told me while we were playing Truth or Dare, but then he did open that gorgeous mouth, those too soft lips parted, and he laughed, pinning his forehead to mine.
“You nearly got me, Daisy. Had me tripping up, and just like my mom always said, it’s the smallest acts that can bring a person down. I’m giving you this as a reminder.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. The feeling that was growing in me, too big, too wide, as though Killian hadn’t handed me a tiny rock, but instead a piece of his heart.
“Reminder of what?” I left our foreheads trapped together, my breath coming in and out too quick.
Killian’s hand came up around my back, stroking down my spine.
“A reminder of what a single pebble can do. One kiss. A pretty face. Someone who seemed to match me in nearly every way. It’s a reminder not to fall. You were a gift, and I’m glad you’re leaving because if you stayed, you’d ruin me.”
The intercom for the bus came to life, alerting me that my bus was about to depart.
We separated, and Killian took a step back.
I tried to take in his vest, the colors and patches, the way his name was sewn into the soft leather. The howling wolf head that was stitched into the shoulder. The way the dark leather made him look like he was one of Death’s agents, here on earth, to distribute life sentences.
Blinking, I turned and climbed onto the bus and took my seat, without looking out my window. The pebble in my hand might as well be gold for how tightly I protected it. Every second that we idled there on the platform made my stomach churn because I knew he hadn’t left yet.
Sure enough, right as we began to pull forward, I allowed myself one last look. And there he stood with a look on his face that I’d stash away forever. Jaw clenched tight, eyes narrowed and focused on my window, he looked as though he was about to break into a run and chase after me.
He looked as though he was holding himself back.
He looked like he maybe wanted to love me, and if I stayed…well, maybe I would have learned to love him back.
It was the second day of being back in DC when I received his text.
The one that changed the trajectory of everything.
Because while I was back in my apartment, wearing my clothes and working at my various jobs—nothing felt the same.
There was this odd feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t shake.
It wasn’t simply because the city now felt empty without my best friend in it, but it was like there was this echo of something I could have had.
But I’d let it go.
It seemed to scream at me in all different manners that something in my life was missing or gone.
I’d get up, go to work. Eat lunch.
Missing.
Go back to work and try so very had to fall back into the role I had once played in this life I never seemed to connect with. I’d left home in hopes that I would find somewhere that fit me. A place that would feel like home. DC had never felt that way, not once.
Something was missing.
My mother called me, reminded me I needed to come home soon. I nodded along, like always, but this time I knew I wouldn’t be headed over to Callie’s house afterward to dish about how unbelievable my parent’s demands were. This time I would go back home, hide in my room and stare at a small pebble.
Gone.
The echo worsened with each day, and with every single one, I would open the text thread that sat dormant. The one with the message I hadn’t replied to. It sat like an oil stain, smearing every ounce of logic and focus I once had. A secret winding vine among the digital tabs on my phone.
I’d flip over to social media, only to go back to that message and stare. My thumbs would hover over the text, and nothing would happen. I wanted to say something. Anything but that echo would reverberate and shudder inside my heart, forcing me to close out the thread.
Empty.
Empty.
Empty.
Callie’s apartment was a shell. I’d let myself in, desperate to see something that reminded me of her.
It was like a fairy tale, where she’d been whisked off to an imaginary kingdom, one I would never be allowed to enter.
Pulling open her fridge, I nearly burst into tears at the box of uneaten Go-Gurts.
She enjoyed the children’s treat; yet, she’d never told me why.
I wished she had. There were so many things I began wishing for. Like this new life my best friend was now starting. My feet moved, and I was suddenly staring at Maxwell, her Great Dane's imprint on her threadbare couch.
My phone came out again, and there in my best friend’s apartment, I stared at the message that had been haunting me, and I made a decision.
Justifying that it was for her, my best friend.
Deep down I knew a different truth.
For it wasn’t the messages between Callie that had me choosing to move to Rose Ridge. It was the one I’d been avoiding since he’d sent it.
Now I stared at it, smiling with a new lust for adventure.
Killian: Come back, Daisy…and this time, fucking stay.