Page 50 of The Fence Between Us

He started with those first years after they’d moved in, “You probably already knew this, but we used to meet beneath the fence nearly every day. I thought I knew everything there was to know about her.”

He scoffed, “Leave it to me to think I had her all figured out. I’m so proud of the woman she became. Not that I have a right to be.”

“I’m completely in love with her,” he whispered, his words carried away on a warm breeze like his mother had gathered them up and whisked them away. “I’ve always been in love with her. And that scares the shit out of me.”

He could practically hear his mother’s voice scolding him, “Language”. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, a vain effort to keep his lips from wobbling.

Rabble’s thoughts turned to the way Gayle and Dylan had used Skye, had taken her choices from her, and forced her into a situation no person should ever be in. She’d just been through one of the most horrifying experiences, orchestrated by two people who said they loved her but used her anyway. The last thing Skye needed was for Rabble to show up, professing his love and assuming she would return his affection because they had a history.

“You’d still like her, Mama. She would talk flowers with you all day long, especially the native ones. She teaches kindergarten, and she loves those kids like they’re her own. She’s got an infectious smile and a bubbly laugh.” Rabble found himself beaming at nothing in particular as he described Skye. His Skye.

His smile faded, and loneliness settled over him, smothering and suffocating him in the summer heat. He felt locked inside aglass box, able to see everything and everyone around him but unable to join them, unable to break past the barrier that kept him in the past. That kept him angry. Angry at the drunk driver who took his mother too early. Angry at his father for not giving a shit about his only son. Angry at Max and Gayle for taking away the only girl he’d ever loved, the best friend he’d ever had, and Dylan for thinking he couldpossessSkye like a trophy.

As if struck by a bolt of lightning, Rabble stumbled backward. He was angry at himself too. For being a foolish coward who didn’t tell Skye how he felt. For not chasing after her harder. For not being there when she needed him. He’d taken time for himself to think and given her space, and maybe that was the wrong answer. He wanted to be there with her, be there for her, and dry every tear she cried. Better yet, he wanted to keep her tears from falling to begin with. The anger built and boiled and then ever so slowly drained from him into the ground, dissipating as the beginnings of a plan stirred in his mind.

“I’ve been so angry for so long,” he choked out. “I don’t want to be angry anymore. I want to be the man Skye needs, the kind she wants.” He wiped at his eyes.

“I’m going to do something crazy,” he said, no longer knowing if he was still talking to his mother or anyone in particular.

The wind kicked up and swirled around him with laughter and light. He could practically see his mother’s sweet smile, then her mischievous grin, and the twinkle in her eye before she did something unexpected. Oh, his mother was here, alright. And she was just as excited about his next move as he was.

Feeling lighter than he had in some time, Rabble gave his mother’s grave one more look, then headed back to his truck. His phone rang, vibrating in his pocket. When he pulled it out, Declan’s name lit up the screen.

“Hey,” he said, a bit confused and a lot concerned. He wasn’t late yet. He’d checked the time repeatedly while speaking with his mother.

“Rab, we’ve got a problem. Get your ass to the parade, ASAP.”

Before Declan finished speaking, Rabble ran for the truck, his heavy boots thudding in the grass and gravel. His tires spun, kicking up stones, and he sped toward the warehouse, breaking every speeding law in Shiloh Hills.

Chapter 30

Skye

The rushing in Skye’s ears drowned out the noise of the parade preparations on the other-side of the tent walls surrounding her. Tremors wracked her body from head to toe, and she’d backed as far away from the garment bag as the tented space allowed. She sank to the ground, barely recognizing the grass as it pricked her skin. She gripped the short leaves, reaching toward the dirt and digging her nails into the earth. She didn’t blink, couldn’t move, as she stared and stared at the beautiful nightmare before her.

She’d chosen this gown; the floral lace having drawn her like a bee to a rose. Skye had felt like the goddess of spring, relishing the fit and flared design hugging her hips and accentuating her assets.

But the back of the dress… A row of delicate ivory fabric buttons descended to the floor. A long line of classic beauty. A long chain for caging her.

Despite loving the dress, Skye couldn’t stand the sight of it, and the thought of touching it made her physically ill. Theelegant fabric begged to be caressed, but it was a lovely prison in its own right.

Terror froze her eyes wide open. She couldn’t turn away.

Sounds of others coming and going reached her as if from down a long tunnel, Elyza’s voice, then a hand on her shoulder. Male voices floated outside the canopy walls, Declan and Dash if she wasn’t mistaken. They were supposed to escort the ladies on the float after all. It made sense they’d be nearby. Their voices faded in and out. Declan sounded worried, and she wanted to reassure them she was okay. She would be okay. But she couldn’t lie either. The words and the courage to speak eluded her. She just needed some time.

The linen wall behind her parted and admitted a gust of warm air that brushed against her neck, lifting the tiny hairs there. Heavy footsteps entered the space, a solid, reassuring presence. Familiar. Comfortable. She could feel him behind her, steady and ready to help her find control. Still, Skye didn’t face him. She couldn’t unlock her limbs or convince her mind to quiet enough to convey her needs.

“I can’t,” she whispered, the fabric walls absorbing her words.

She wasn’t sure what she expected from him. Surely Rabble was disappointed in her. She certainly was.

Rabble walked in front of her, blocking her view of the dress. He was a vision in worn jeans and a button-down, sleeves rolled to his elbows. The tanned skin of his forearms stood out against the white of his shirt, jarring her and giving her something new to focus on.

Kneeling down, he gently cupped her face in his hands, brushing his thumbs across her pale cheeks reverently. He kissed her forehead, once, twice, then pulled back and studied her.

“It’s okay, Skye.” His voice was reassuring, affirming, everything she dreamed of.

“I don’t want to be afraid.” A sob she was helpless to stop escaped her chest.

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