Chapter 3
THREE
THE CAB’S VINYL seat sticks to my thighs.
Each block is an agonizing countdown. Streetlights blur past, hazy orange halos against the inky sky.
The window reflects a ghost: eyes wide and haunted, jaw clenched until my teeth ache.
The driver shoots curious glances in the rearview mirror.
Shame burns hot in my cheeks. The weight of the night churns with the nausea in my stomach.
“Stop here, please.”
The car lurches to a halt. “Here, Miss?” His question is laced with cautious concern.
“Yes,” I mumble, fumbling for the fare.
I stumble onto the sidewalk, gasping for breath.
The house where I threw my future away looms across the street.
Dark.
Silent.
My stomach twists.
Standing here for the second time tonight makes my head spin.
The front yard stretches out, a manicured lawn elevated above a low stone wall.
Heart lodged in my throat, I climb the two wide steps to the flagstone path.
Kicking off my heels, I drop my bag beside them and step onto the grass.
The blades are soft and cool beneath my bare feet.
Minutes stretch into an eternity.
Panic tightens its grip.
Every breath is a painful reminder this moment is real. The vastness of the night presses in. Even driving alone from state to state, I never felt this adrift. This aloneness is an icy hand squeezing the air from my lungs.
My phone slips from my numb fingers. I clutch the rough bark of the nearest tree, the coarse texture grounding me. Sweat beads on my forehead, plastering the synthetic curls to my skin. Bitter bile rises in my throat. I swallow hard, pressing my forehead to the bark.
“Is everything okay out there?” A voice, deep and resonant, carries across the lawn.
I jerk upright.
A figure steps out of the shadows. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His features are indistinct, but his stance is firm.
“Sorry.” My reply is thin. “I’m… looking…” I push away from the tree. “Looking for…” The words are thick on my tongue.
I stumble forward. The ground shifts. The grass rushes up to meet me.
“Whoa.”
I slam into a solid wall of muscle.
Arms shoot out to steady me.
My head spins against his shoulder.
“S—sorry.” I grip the thin fabric covering his chest. “I need to go—”
“You need to sit.” His command is a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates through my bones.
“Can’t. No time.” I push away, eyes searching for the small pool of light from my phone.
I lower myself to retrieve it. The world tilts precariously, but I manage to grab the small rectangle. With a shaky breath, I push myself up, hands braced on my knees.
Deep breaths.
In. Out.
In. Out.
“This is my front yard, you know,” he says.
“Yes,” I breathe, my attention fixed on the illuminated patch of grass. “I know.”
He takes a slow, deliberate breath.
Silence stretches.
“What exactly did you lose?”
“Everything,” I whisper. “Everything, if I don’t find it.”
“Find what?” His annoyance shifts to intrigue.
“Shit.” I squeeze my eyes shut.
James will bankrupt me.
He’ll do it.
I know he will.
“Let me help you.”
His offer is lost in the rising tide of panic.
Where the hell is it—
My head drops. The world spins violently.
His voice is closer now. “You really need to sit down. Please, just tell me what you’re looking for.”
I grip his arm, fingers digging into hard muscle. “My engagement ring,” I force out through gritted teeth.
A sharp cramp twists my gut, flooding my mouth with a metallic taste. Without warning, I double over, emptying my stomach onto the grass at his feet.
“So s-sorry…” The words are a hollow echo. Darkness closes in.
And then, nothing.
My heavy eyelids flutter open to an unfamiliar white ceiling.
Plush cushions cradle me—a world away from cold, damp grass. I try to push myself up, but stabbing pain slices through my temples, forcing a groan.
“Easy,” a voice warns.
Footsteps approach, and then he’s crouching beside me.
“Have some water.”
I accept the glass, my gaze snagging on his hand, wrapped in white.
“Boxing,” he explains, raising both hands. “I was working out.”
Bright jade-green eyes meet mine. Intense. Unsettling. A sudden heat flushes my skin. I swallow hard, trying to quell the unexpected flutter in my chest.
He runs a hand through his thick, caramel-brown hair. “You should drink.”
I lift the glass. My gaze traces broad shoulders and muscular arms exposed by a thin white tank top. He leans forward, elbows on knees, eyes fixed on me.
I take a large gulp of water. Coolness is a balm against the heat blooming in my cheeks.
“This makes no sense,” he says, breaking the charged silence. “You make no sense.”
His blunt statement jolts me back to reality.
I clear my throat. “Sorry for trespassing.” I place the glass on the table beside him and attempt to stand.
“No, that’s not what I meant—”
My knees give way. I stumble forward, palms landing against the hard plane of his chest as his hands dart out to steady my waist. His breath mingles with mine, warm and dangerously close.
Caught between his parted legs, his fingers digging into my hips, electricity shoots through me.
His features are even more striking up close.
His head dips, his gaze dropping to my lips.
A low hum of protest escapes my lips. I shut my eyes, turning my face away.
He clears his throat and releases me, hands rubbing his face.
I step back and make my way to the door. My bag and shoes are near the base of the staircase.
“I’ll be gone as soon as I find it.” The thought of the ring brings a fresh wave of nausea.
“You won’t find anything in that darkness,” he counters, following me.
“I can’t go home without it.” Desperation edges my voice.
“So don’t.”
I spin around, frowning.
He holds up a hand. “You can stay in the guest room. Get the rest you clearly need.” He pauses. “I’ll help you find your ring first thing in the morning.”
I shake my head.
I can’t possibly…
“You can lock the door. It has an en suite bathroom. You’ll be perfectly safe,” he adds.
“It’s not that. I don’t mean to—”
“I get it,” he interrupts gently. “But I assure you, this is a safe place.”
I meet his gaze.
His expression softens. “I can’t in good conscience let you go back out there at this hour, knowing you have nowhere else to go.”
His concern feels…
Real.
Those intense green eyes make me feel seen for the first time in a very long time.
“Are you a doctor?” I blurt out.
“Lawyer,” he replies with a light chuckle. “Matthew.” He extends his hand.
“Amy.” His hand engulfs mine.
Warm.
Solid.
Heat spreads through me, chasing away the night’s chill.
“Amy,” he repeats, his gaze lingering. “Let me show you to your room.” He picks up my handbag and shoes.
I follow him. My steps are hesitant, but with each one, a fragile sense of security takes root.