Chapter 11
Raine
The hardware store smells like cedar, oil, and fresh coffee from the pot someone keeps behind the counter. It’s the closest thing Shadow Falls has to a home-improvement store, and I’ve already been here twice this week.
The clerk—same kid from earlier this week—gives me a wary smile when I walk in. “Back again, Miss Voss?”
“Apparently I have a thing for lightbulbs,” I say, holding up my list.
He laughs too quickly, then retreats to restock shelves. Everyone’s polite here—just not warm. The kind of courtesy that keeps you in your place.
I check prices on sandpaper, add duct tape, and realize halfway down the aisle that my hands are shaking.
I slept horribly again. The estate feels too big, too alive at night. Every sound carries. Every shadow feels like company.
Not to mention the dreams.
Focus, Raine.
I’m aimlessly wandering down an aisle, scrolling through a list of paint codes on my phone, when someone rounds the corner at the same time I do.
I ram right into a hard chest with zero warning.
The collision knocks my phone out of my hand.
“Oh my god—sorry!” I drop to grab it, but so does he. Our fingers brush. His hand closes around the phone first—steady, callused, confident.
He straightens before I do. “No harm done.”
The voice hits low—smooth but edged, like whiskey poured over ice. I look up and nearly forget to breathe.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Black T-shirt stretched across muscle and clean-cut jeans. Dark hair still damp from a shower, jaw dusted with the start of a beard. And his eyes—gray, cool, and assessing. The kind that don’t just look at you; they take measure.
“Guess I should watch where I’m going,” I manage.
His mouth tilts, not quite a smile. “You should.”
Something about the way he says it makes warmth crawl up my neck. I take my phone when he offers it, my fingers grazing his again. He doesn’t move away.
“You’re Raine Voss.” It isn’t a question.
I blink. “Do I know you?”
“No.” His gaze flicks over me, unreadable. “Small town. People talk.”
Of course they do.
I force a laugh. “Then you already know I’m single-handedly ruining Shadow Falls’ peace and prosperity.”
He studies me for a beat too long, then says, “Can’t ruin what was never peaceful.”
The words shouldn’t make my stomach twist, but they do. “Right.” I glance toward the shelf. “Well, I should—”
He steps aside, giving me room, but I still feel him behind me when I move past. His presence is magnetic, heavy, like static before lightning.
At the counter, the clerk rings me up in nervous silence. I can feel the stranger’s eyes on my back the whole time.
When I finally turn, he’s leaning against the endcap, his arms crossed, watching me.
“You planning renovations?” he asks.
“Trying to.” I swipe my card, trying not to bristle from his presence.
He nods slowly. “Good luck with that. The valley’s not easy on outsiders.”
“Good thing I’m not leaving,” I say before I can stop myself.
Something sharp flickers in his expression—approval? amusement?—then it’s gone.
He reaches for a pack of batteries on the display, then moves closer. He drops them on the counter beside my things. “You’ll need these. Generator backup.”
I stare at them, then at him. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know the house.”
That makes me look up. “You’ve been there?”
He meets my gaze, unblinking. “Everyone’s been there at some point.” Then he pays for the batteries, slides them toward me, and says quietly, “Consider it neighborly.”
Before I can answer, he’s out the door, sunlight flashing off the glass as it swings shut.
I stand there for a long moment, heart hammering too fast, staring at the batteries in my hand.
“Who was that?” I ask the clerk.
He looks confused. “You don’t know?”
I shake my head, turning toward the windows. The parking lot is empty.
The kid crosses his arms. When I look back at him, he’s staring at me with a dumbfounded look on his face.
“That’d be Tristan Blackwell.”
The name lands like a chill.
Of course it is.
I don’t say a word. Just numbly head for the door, my purchases in hand.
Outside, the sun blazes over the valley, but I can’t shake the feeling that the shadows just got darker.