Page 37 of Make Me Trust Again
I run my hand over my face, feeling the headache brewing behind my temples from the conversation. Or maybe it’s from the lack of sleep. Fuck if I know.
Letting out a sigh, I put my phone down and exit the house.
The hot June air slams into me the moment I step under the bright sun. The familiar burn reminds me of another place and time. The scorching heat on my skin makes my uniform stick to my flesh. The thick, sandy air closing my lungs.
Shadow brushes against my leg, snapping me back to the here and now.
Home.
I am back home.
Shaking my head, I descend the stairs, the old wood creaking under my feet, just another thing to add to my to-do list.
Since I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, I’ve thrown myself headfirst into remodeling the kitchen. There is a fresh coat of paint on the walls, and I’ve just finished installing the new flooring.
Placing my goggles back on my face, I turn on the sander and get back to work on the kitchen counters. I’ve removed the original color. The ugly butter yellow is old and peeling off, so now I’m planning to polish and repaint them before putting them back inside.
I’m focused on the work, my eyes fixed on the machine in my hand as it smooths over the wood, the soft buzzing echoing in my ears. I’m almost done with the second counter when the hair at my nape rises at attention.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Shadow’s ears perk up. My fingers tighten on the tool as I slowly lift my head and take in the space around me, trying to figure out what caught her attention, when I finally spot him.
The little boy is watching me from behind one of the trees with big blue eyes.
Hismother’seyes.
His serious gaze meets mine, and I can see it flare in panic, his cheeks turning red before he hides behind the tree as if I didn’t just catch him and know he’s there.
Shadow’s tail wags excitedly, but I give her a warning glare. I turn my attention to the work at hand, making a few more sweeps over the wood, before deeming it good enough and turning the machine off.
Going to the porch, I grab the towel from the railing and wipe the sweat off my forehead before grabbing a bottle of water that I left on the steps and take a long swig, waiting.
Seconds slowly tick by, and it takes a while before he peeks his head from behind the tree. He eyes me carefully before his gaze moves to Shadow, and then once again he disappears.
I watch that spot for a heartbeat before I grab the brush and the primer, and I get to work. The smell of the paint hits me the moment I open the can, but I ignore it as I dip the brush into the primer. I’m almost done with the first one when I see rustling from where the little daredevil is hiding.
He’s holding onto the tree, nibbling at his lip as he tries to come up with a game plan. Every so often, his eyes dart over his shoulder before returning to the dog.
In one of those sweeps, they meet mine, so I take pity on him. “She won’t bite, you know.”
Rose said he was deaf, but he knows how to read lips. Not just that, the other day they were both speaking and using sign language. His brows pull together, his whole focus on my mouth, before it returns to the dog.
“She’s big.”
Another glance in my direction.
Still, he doesn’t make any attempt to come closer, and Shadow stays in her place, patiently waiting for me to give her a command so she can go.
“She is.”
Shadow seems terrifying at first. Probably because of her size, or maybe it’s her breed. She’s a German Shepard, and at seventy pounds, she’s huge, but there isn’t a kinder or more playful soul out there. On top of that, she has always had a soft spot for kids, and the closest she’s come to them was Jackson, who’s still too small to play with her, so I’m not surprised by her eagerness.
Kyle tilts his head to the side. “Why does she have that scar on her face?”
The memories of the past flash in my mind in snapshots. The blast. The crash. The pain. Suddenly, the collar of my shirt feels too tight. My eyes fall shut as I force my lungs to expand so I can suck in so much-needed air.
Breathe. There is a freaking kid here. You can’t lose it. Not now. Just… breathe.
I squeeze my fingers into a fist as I suck in a long, shaky breath into my lungs.
