Page 36 of Into the Fire
But he was home.
She wiped her hands on a towel, already anticipating the way his presence would shift the room, settle it, maybe soften the tightness that lived in her chest since earlier.
But then the screen door opened and slammed shut harder than usual.
Her shoulders flinched.
Heavy footsteps stormed in, boots tracking dust and frustration across the floorboards. Levi didn’t speak as he crossed the kitchen, just yanked his hat off and tossed it onto the table hard enough that it skidded across the surface.
Emery turned, cautious. “Hi.”
He didn’t answer at first. Just stood there, jaw clenched, as he emptied his pockets into the counter.
“Bad day?” she tried again, gentler.
Levi finally looked at her, but there was no softness in it. “Yeah. Bad fucking day.”
He pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m so fucking tired of having to micromanage every aspect of my life. Fucking Cole forgot to close the goddamn gate, which added hours of chasing down the cattle that got out. Another guy snapped the axle on the trailer, trying to take a shortcut that I specifically told him not to take. Jess started off the trip hungover as shit andwasn’t even remotely helpful until hours in.”
Emery kept quiet, letting him vent, letting him unload—but when he turned on her, something in his tone shifted. Sharpened.
“I get that call that June’s sick, and I’m stuck in the middle of goddamn nowhere trying to fucking delegate again because I can’t even take five fucking minutes to check on my own daughter without the whole damn thing falling apart.”
Her chest went tight. “Levi—”
He interrupted, “Yeah. I know, thanks for the help.”
The way he said it, it wasn’t gratitude. It was a dismissal. Like she didn’t do enough, or maybe like she’d done too much. Like, he was mad that she stepped in.
She swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling dry. “I was just trying to help.”
“Mhmm,” he said with a hollow laugh, rubbing his face. “Everybody just wants to fix me lately, but maybe I’d be able to take care of my own shit if Iwasn’t fixing everything that everyone else was fucking up 24/7.”
That stung. Deep.
Emery took a small step back, her hand tightening around the edge of the counter. “I wasn’t—”
“Look,” Levi cut in, sighing like he was tired of the conversation. “Thanks, okay? Why don’t you just take the rest of the week off? You’ve done plenty.”
The words hit her like a slap. “I’m gonna go shower and check on my kid.”
Leaving Emery standing there, heart pounding, cheeks burning. Hurt. Confused. A growing knot of frustration in her chest.
She looked around—at the spoon still clutched in her hand, the dinner she’d prepped with care, the laundry she’d folded. Thinking about the fever she’d monitored every hour for his daughter. His daughter rocked through a restless nap with a cool rag pressed to her forehead.
The corner of the counter caught her eye.
That envelope from Denny was still hidden in the stack of Levi’s mail; its presence sat like a loaded gun.
The screen door creaked softly as Emery stepped onto the porch, the air cool against her flushed cheeks.
She sat slowly onto the top step, tucking her knees into her chest as the sun began to dip behind the hills, casting that same shade of gold she'd come to love over everything, except the ache sitting heavy in her chest. The silence out here was usually nice. But tonight, it rattled her nerves, too loud and too quiet all at once.
The letter from Denny echoed in her mind like poison, the words still crawling under her skin.
Promiscuous, manipulative, undeserving.
He was going to smear her name, and no one would question it.
