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She shouldn’t be here.
Just as Timber decided to turn back around, movement up the gravel road caught her attention. It was Hallie. Timber recognized her from the registry picture. She wore a small smile, and was gesturing her forward.
Blowing out a long, steadying breath, Timber eased her foot onto the gas and allowed her truck to slowly crawl up into the clearing. Hallie walked alongside her and gestured where to park, in a spot right next to Wreck’s truck, in front of the still-smoking single-wide trailer. There was chaos in the clearing with people cleaning up rubble, but Wreck’s home was quiet. A wide berth had been given to it.
When she got out, Hallie pulled her in for a hug and simply said, “Thank you for coming. Call out if you need anything.” She squeezed Timber’s hand and strode off, leaving Timber to cast her gaze on the man who sat on the front porch of his home.
Wreck sat leaned against the porch railing with his profile to her, no shirt on, eyes on the woods, knees drawn up, a bottle of what looked like whiskey dangling from his right hand. The air felt so heavy it was hard to breathe, and not just because of the smoke. Wreck was doing something dark to the atmosphere.
The smoke smelled strange as she inhaled a steadying breath. It wasn’t as thick or lung-clogging as normal smoke. It had a metallic scent to it that she didn’t recognize. She could inhale without coughing.
The way he stared at the woods, unmoving, hurt her heart. God, he was so deep in it.
She left the food in the truck, and approached his porch.
“Careful,” a big brute of a man with dark hair said from the other side of Wreck’s truck.
“Let her try, Bash,” the big man from Hallie’s video called from a couple of trailers over.
The big man lowered his chin and backed away, eyes on Gunner, the Alpha of the Fastlanders. Oh, she recognized him too.
Wreck’s head slowly turned toward her, and she could see churning flames in his eyes. The look he gave her was so empty.Soulless. He wore nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, and his skin looked flushed and overheated, but it was his empty eyes that held her attention.
He could use a friend.
She slowly made her way up the stairs and stood in front of him. She waited for a few moments as he glared at her like he hated her. He didn’t though. She had seen this before.
He hated himself, not her.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I want to see the damage.”
He huffed an empty laugh and looked to the woods, then back to her. “Be my guest.” He kicked the door, and it creaked open.
From here, she could see the burned rubble inside. Something electrical was still sparking, and the home was clouded in that metallic-scented smoke. Mounds of what looked like dried lava covered the furniture, and huge lengths of floor were completely burned through.
“That’s not what I was talking about. I meant I want to see your damage.”
His eyes narrowed, and he took a drink from the bottle of cheap whiskey. “I don’t usually drink, but it’s a special occasion.”
Even his voice was different. Hollow.
“Can I sit with you?”In your dark moment? I’ll sit with you.She left those words unspoken. He wouldn’t see the value in her effort until later, when he could think through the fog again.
“Go away.”
She inhaled sharply, lifted her shoulders in a shrug, and said, “No.”
“Go. Away.” He gritted it out slowly, eyes on fire and boring straight through her.
Her eyes burned, and she dipped her gaze to try and control the emotion on her face. “No,” she whispered. And then she sat down, the toes of her shoes close to his feet.
She quickly swiped the back of her hand across her cheeks to catch her escaping tears.
“Why are you crying?” he gritted out.
“Because your hurt is a really big hurt. I wish it was smaller.”
