Page 85 of Whispers and Wildfire

She’d learn.

I went back upstairs to bring in the rest of my things. There were preparations to be made, and I wasn’t going to take her until I was sure everything was ready.

A haunting memory swept through me. Closing my eyes, I tried to push it away, but it ate at me, relentless in its judgment. I’d failed once. She’d gotten away. I’d never had a chance to explain. To tell her what I was really trying to do.

Suddenly, a new realization swept in on the tide of thatawful recollection. I’d failed because I’d underestimated her, yes. But knowing she’d be difficult to subdue wasn’t enough. I had to be ready for things to go wrong—be prepared for every scenario.

I needed to practice.

A smile crossed my face again. Of course. Why hadn’t I thought of that before? If I tried to take my Melanie without rehearsing beforehand, too many things could go wrong. But if I practiced on a few others, especially if they reminded me of her, I could work out the kinks. Be ready for the big show.

It was a risk. A big one. I couldn’t deny that. If I got caught, I’d be throwing it all away. All the pining, all the preparing, for nothing.

But I wouldn’t get caught. I’d learned too much.

And for Melanie, any risk was worth taking. Soon, she’d be mine.

CHAPTER 21

Luke

Bruised ribs were a bitch.

I stood in my kitchen, fresh out of the shower, my hair still damp, and a towel wrapped around my waist. Leaning back against the counter, I sipped a cup of coffee, then rubbed the stubble on my jaw.

My midsection looked about as bad as it felt. I was black and blue, and basically everything hurt. It was hard to move, hard to sleep, hard to breathe. I was supposed to be careful, but I’d spent the weekend lying around, and I was ready to crawl out of my skin. It was Monday morning, and I needed to go to work.

It wasn’t like the garage would fall apart without me. But if I had to spend one more day cooped up in my house with nothing to do, I was going to lose it.

The problem was, I wasn’t supposed to drive. Despite what the doctor had said—no driving for at least a couple of weeks—I’d assumed it would only take a day or two to feel well enough to get behind the wheel. But every time I moved wrong, sharp pain exploded across my midsection. All it would take was swerving to avoid a squirrel in the road, and I’d probably hit a tree.

Which meant I needed a ride. And for some reason, that had left me paralyzed with indecision.

My family all knew I was hurt. Theo had spread the word. Dad had bellowed at me a bit, then helped Mom stock my fridge with food. Everyone else had stopped by throughout the weekend, adding more ice packs, electrolyte drinks, snacks, and cookies from my sister-in-law, Harper.

I could have asked any of them for a ride. But when they’d asked how I was going to get around, I’d told each of them I had it covered.

You should have called me.

It was so weird that Melanie had said that. Because Ihadbeen thinking about calling her. Which made no sense. Why would I have called her? And why would I call her to drive me to work?

But damn it, the way she’d burst in on Saturday had done something to me. I’d spent the rest of the weekend thinking about her. About the worry in her voice and the look in her eyes when she’d replaced my ice pack.

You should have called me.

I wanted to be mad at her for getting in my head. But she’dbeenin my head since the day she’d almost run me off the road.

Actually, she’d been in my head a lot longer than that. She’d never really left.

With a groan of frustration, I set my coffee down and grabbed my phone. “Fine, Mel. I’ll fucking call you.”

It was a mistake. All she was going to do was piss me off. I hit send anyway.

“Are you okay?” she answered, urgency in her voice.

“Yeah, fine. I just…”

“What? What’s wrong? You’re not at work, which makes sense because you’re injured, but I’ve also been trying not to call you all morning.”

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