Page 1 of Love, Hate, Love

Chapter1

Leah

Kade Hawk.He’d been my first love, perfect and always just out of reach. I’d skinned my knees with him as a child and then dreamt of him as a teen. He’d been everything I’d thought a man should be—until he hadn’t. He’d turned his back on me when I needed him most. He’d taken a blowtorch to those feelings, leaving nothing but burned ash in their place.

Now he was inserting himself back into my life at the lowest point of my existence and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. I didn’t like it. I didn’t trust it, and damn anyone who told me he was just trying to help.

“Leah.” My brother Monroe’s voice jarred me back to the present with an underlying urgency that made it clear this wasn’t the first time he’d called my name.

My attention jerked back to the present, the one place I didn’t want to be.

“We need to get out. It’ll look weird if we just sit in the car in his drive.” He let out a sigh while I struggled to breathe at all.

“Looking weird is the least of my issues,” I said.

The ranch house loomed ahead, nothing like the run-down house from my childhood. It could make the most hardened soul want to burst out singing “This Land Is Your Land.” It oozed charm with its thick log walls, swing on the front porch, and even a damned weather vane on the roof. The Montana hills gave it a storybook setting, autumn colors making it look more idyllic than a Kinkade painting, and I still wasn’t sure this was better than prison.

“It won’t be that bad,” my brother said, getting out of the car and letting in a gust of biting, cold air.

He dug my luggage out of the trunk and came around to the passenger side, opening the door. I had a fleeting thought of locking myself in the car before I got out.

“I’m telling you, it’s not going to be bad,” he said, standing beside me, feeling more like a jail guard than my best friend and the only blood relative left I wanted to speak to.

“Can I have a minute to enjoy my last few breaths of freedom without having to endure your unrelenting optimism?” If he kept talking to me like Glinda the Good Witch he was going to get a black eye. That would take the glow off his rainbow. Sometimes when you were wallowing in a pit of despair, cheeriness tasted like the bitterest of pills.

“You know, you used to be an optimist,” he said, thatcheerytone still clinging to his words like a bad case of mange.

“Usedto. I’m reformed. Optimism is for the delusional.”

“Are you implying I’m delusional?” he asked, hisall is goodtone still firmly in place.

“If the ruby slipper fits.”

He snorted and then shook his head. “It won’t last. You can’t be a pessimist, or at least not for long. It’s not who you are.”

I loved him to death, but all I wanted right now was for him to shut the hell up.

“I didn’t used to be a thief, either and I managed to change that up nice and quick,” I said.

That bought me one second of silence before his rosy outlook kicked back in.

“I know there’s more to the story. You’ve never stolen so much as a stick of gum and you’ll tell me what really happened one day.”

“You keep on believing that, just like how Kade is a great, stand-up guy.”

Other than our both being blessed with blonde locks and good looks, me and my brother were nothing alike. Monroe always thought the best of everyone, and somehow that seemed to have been working out for him. His wife, who was incredibly wealthy with family money, thought he was the most perfect specimen to walk the earth and they spent their lives flitting around on vacations and parties, with their endless list of friends.

It didn’t seem to matter where he was or what he was doing—he was the one who would take my call any time, day or night. More than my mother, or my father when he was alive, I’d do anything for Monroe.

“He’s got his flaws, of course, but so does everyone,” he said. “We’re all a mixed bag. You two just don’t click as adults. Sometimes that happens as we get older.”

I rolled my eyes and then glued them to his face.

After a couple seconds of my laser stare, he shrugged. “Fine. Maybe he’s not always the most pleasant person, but he’s doing us a huge favor by letting you come here and keeping you out of prison.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the rental car behind us. How much gas was in the tank? Had Monroe left the keys in the ignition?

He followed my line of vision. “Don’t even think about it. You’ll only get caught, and you know you won’t make it a day in prison.”

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