Page 17 of One Last Chance

Hunter wouldn’t have called the girls damaged. He would have classified them as people who needed balancing. That’s how he saw everybody, even our customers; people who needed balance. That was why he made rules for who to sell to, and never broke those rules.

“I talked to Leroy. I’m not sure about that whole balance theory of yours anymore. The hotel’s gone to shit, and so’s his teeth. Yeah, yeah—Dayle picked up where we left off. This town’s still partying. I guess Dayle doesn’t have a monthly limit the way you did, ‘cause Leroy’s been strung out every time I’ve seen him.” I blew out a breath and shoved a hand through my hair. “Was it Dayle, Hunter? Getting impatient for his piece of the pie? Damn it, you should have told me what you were into that night. I knew something was up. I fucking knew it. And…Jesus, Hunter, we were a team. Whatever it was, you should have come to me. Whatever it was…you shouldn’t have tried to handle it on your own.”

Tears of regret burned at my eyes and I pressed the heels of my hands against them. It didn’t help, they spilled over anyway.

“What the hell, man? Why’d you always have to handle the sticky shit alone? You can’t talk everybody out of everything. You know that! That’s what I kept telling you and you kept on arguing with me, saying you’d rather have a nice diplomatic sit-down than have your guard dog intimidate people.”

I choked on a chuckle and let my hands fall. “What’s the point of having a guard dog at all if you won’t let him back you up when your diplomatic talking doesn’t get the job done? It’s that balance you like so much.”

I frowned at the ground and ripped up a fistful of grass. “You were the one who always said we shouldn’t go into the woods alone. Wouldn’t even let me go, and I’m bigger than you by a long shot. You were always careful. What the hell made you decide to break all your own rules? You lose your damn mind?”

My raised voice echoed off the tombstones around me, snapping reality back into focus. It chased Hunter’s presence—real or imagined—away, and then I was nothing but a crazy ex-con babbling away to myself in the middle of a graveyard.

“Well,” I breathed. “Rest in peace and all that shit.”

I pulled myself up and touched the car again. It wasn’t so funny anymore. It was Hunter’s crucifix. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t know how, but I was certain that the nature of our business had everything to do with his death. I guess sometimes playing with fire gets you burned—but that was why he made rules. I wondered if I’d ever figure out why he’d broken them all.

When I turned back to Daisy, it was hard to overlook the fact that her face was covered in tears. It broke my fucking heart. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and protect her from the world, but I knew she didn’t want me. I was the thing she needed protection from now. Or at least, she thought so.

“Sorry,” I said shortly. “Took a little longer than I thought. I’ll walk you home if you want.”

I started walking but she didn’t move.

“Kash, wait.”

I turned back toward her. She was wiping her face, but the tears kept coming anyway, rewetting the spots she dried. Her lower lip was trembling and I just wanted to kiss it until it stopped, squeeze her until she stopped looking so broken. I couldn’t look at her anymore. I rested my gaze back on Hunter’s headstone.

“Yeah, what’s up, you need to rest some more? It’s cool, I have all night, I’ll walk you home whenev—”

“Oh, shut up, Kash.”

I couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying and I couldn’t afford to check. She walked to me and I willed her to go away. Didn’t she understand? I couldn’t just stand there in arms’ reach of her and all her wild emotions. I couldn’t ignore her forever. The only thing I’d wanted to do for six years was hold her and comfort her and make her burden a little easier to bear. I wasn’t like Hunter. I couldn’t just deny myself forever the way he could.

If she knew all that, she didn’t care. She stepped right up to me and put her cool little hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look at her. Those big, intense watery eyes. That soft, supple mouth full of emotion. Those smooth, perfect cheeks and her little nose, adorably off-kilter. That was Hunter’s fault. He’d accidentally hit her in the face with a shovel when we were kids. I wanted to trace the gentle slant of it down to her mouth, so I shoved my hands in my pockets.

“Okay, you win,” she said softly.

I win? “What do I win?”

Her laugh was soft and liquid, which just confused me more.

“Another chance,” she said. “I believe you. I mean, I think I do. Either you didn’t kill him, or you put on one hell of a show, and I know you don’t give a shit what I think so it can’t be that second one. As for the letters…if you said you wrote me…I guess I have no choice but to believe that too.”

How was it possible for her to be so far off-base? I knew I shouldn’t say what I was about to say. If that was her rationale, then arguing with it would only screw me out of my chance. But she deserved to know, and I couldn’t stop myself from saying it anyway. I was the thing she needed to be protected from, but I was also the only person capable of protecting her.

I grabbed her hands off my face and held them tight, looking deep into her eyes.

“Listen here, Daisy. Your opinion is the only one I do give a shit about. Idocare what you think. Every thought, every feeling, everything. Don’t you dare give me a second chance just because you think I don’t care. Don’t be that stupid.”

Her startled eyes widened, reflecting the vastness of the sky. I could see her thoughts whirling, watched her emotions fly over her expression like clouds across the face of the moon. I braced myself for anything. Argument, tantrum, violence, whatever was coming, I was ready. But then she smiled, and I was off-balance all over again.

“You’re calling me stupid and trying to talk me out of believing you all at once? Who’s the stupid one, here?”

I sighed and dropped my head. “I just want you to make informed decisions, that’s all. You’re smart, you’ve always been smart, just not about people. Not about me.”

She laughed and I looked up. “You said that same thing to me the summer before high school when you were trying to convince me that you were so dangerous.”

“I am dangerous.”

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