Page 60 of Hell to Pay

And honestly, I wasn’t complaining.

I really like you.

They were such simple words, but now I felt the sting of tears thinking about them. I tried to remember if anyone had ever said them to me and couldn’t think of a single time.

My mom had said “I love you” when we were kids, although maybe not as often as some parents. She’d told me I was smart when I did well in school. Matt had once said he was glad I was his sister.

But no one — not one person in my whole life — had ever said those four simple words.

I really like you.

They made me feel like maybe there was something to like after all. Like maybe I wasn’t some defective, broke, aimless loser with nothing to offer the world.

And the crazy thing was, I hadn’t been lying when I’d repeated the words to Nolan: the feeling was mutual.

Would I have liked him if I’d known him — really known him — in high school?

Maybe not. Actually, probably not.

But was anyone the same person they were in high school? I knew for sure that I wasn’t. And yeah, I’d never had the capacity to be mean, to hurt someone, the way the Bastards had hurt me, but I’d changed in a lot of big ways, and it was becoming pretty obvious to me that Nolan and Jude at least had changed too.

As for Rafe, the jury was still out on that one.

I lifted my head to look at the watch Nolan always wore. It was almost 2:30 in the morning, and while I had no desire to leave the comfort of Nolan’s arms — or Nolan’s bed — there was no way I was going to let Matt see me creeping from his room in the morning.

I slid carefully out from under Nolan’s arm and stood.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled.

I looked back at him and my heart caught in my throat. Sure, he looked like a high-fashion advertisement for hundred-dollar men’s underwear, but it was more than that. It was the way his tousled dark hair fell over his forehead, the way his lashes looked extra long when they were closed, his skin glowing in the light of the little lamp next to his bed.

I wasn’t an expert on relationships, but that feeling in my chest? The one that made my heart feel like it was being squeezed in a vise, in a good way? I was pretty sure that was more than justI like you.

Shit.

I leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I have to. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I turned off the bedside lamp, then slipped into the hall, closing the door behind me.

I’d just turned toward my room when I heard voices coming from the other end of the hall.

I froze, listening, then realized it wasn’t voices plural. It was one voice.

Rafe’s.

I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but I could hear his distress, could tell he was having another nightmare.

I looked around, wondering if Jude or Nolan would appear in the hall. They didn’t, and a moment later when Rafe’s voice got louder, I hurried toward his room.

I didn’t want him to wake up Matt, didn’t want to explain why one of the giant tough guys in the house had vicious nightmares. But also, ithurtme to hear Rafe like that, to know he was in pain.

It didn’t make sense, but what could I say? My life had stopped making sense the night I’d banged on the door of this house.

I let myself into Rafe’s room and closed the door behind me. He’d stopped talking, but he was breathing fast and heavy, like he was running.

Or like he was scared.

I let my eyes adjust to the darkness and took in the room’s layout, almost identical to Nolan’s, complete with the bar and mini-fridge, the attached bathroom, the glass doors leading to the balcony, the sitting area with a sofa, TV, and gaming system.

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