Moving hurts. Breathing hurts. Everything hurts.
But the physical pain is nothing compared to what’s going on inside my head.
Twenty years of friendship with Jason, gone in an instant.
All because I fell in love with his daughter.
I turn away from the window and wince as my body protests.
The morning’s woodchopping session probably wasn’t the smartest move. But I needed to do something, anything, to work through the chaos in my mind. I lift my shirt and examine the damage in the reflection of the microwave door. Purple bruises spread across my torso like storm clouds.
Jason always did have a mean right hook.
The coffee maker gurgles to life after I fill it, the familiar sound oddly comforting in a world that’s suddenly turned upside down. I lean against the counter, taking shallow breaths to minimize the pain in my ribs.
A car engine rumbles up the driveway. I move to the window, squinting through my one good eye.
Dana’s sleek sedan pulls up beside my truck.
Great.
Just what I need right now.
The front door opens without a knock. Dana never was big on announcing herself.
“Koda? You here?” Her heels click against the hardwood floor as she makes her way into the kitchen. She stops dead when she sees my face. “Goddammit.”
I shrug, immediately regretting the movement as pain lances through my side. “You should see the other guy.”
“Very funny.” Dana drops her designer purse on the counter and approaches me, businesslike efficiency in every step. Her hands come up to frame my face, turning it gently to examine the damage. “Jason did this?”
“Who else?” I pull away from her inspection and grab two mugs from the cabinet. “Coffee?”
“I didn’t drive all the way up here for your mediocre coffee.” Dana follows me as I move around the kitchen. Her eyes catalog every wince, every careful movement. “Have you seen a doctor?”
I pour the coffee and ignore her question. “Why are you here, Dana?”
She accepts the mug I offer her. “I’m here because apparently, the entire beauty school witnessed Jason Palmer beating his best friend to a pulp yesterday.”
“Former best friend.” I take a careful sip of coffee, the hot liquid stinging my split lip. “And I’m fine.”
Dana narrows her eyes. “You’re not fine. You can barely move. You should be in a hospital getting those ribs checked.”
“I don’t need a hospital.” I gesture to the kitchen table, a solid piece of pine I made with my own hands years ago. “Sit.”
Dana takes a seat and crosses her legs. She watches me lower myself carefully into the chair across from her. Her gaze is too knowing, too perceptive.
It’s always been impossible to hide anything from my sister.
“Where’s Charlotte?” Dana asks, settling back in her chair.
“She went to pick up her trophy from the school.” I shift carefully, trying to find a position that doesn’t make my ribs scream. “Left it behind yesterday in all the chaos.”
Dana nods, then fixes me with that penetrating stare I remember from childhood. “And Jason?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?”
“Because Jason is your best friend,” Dana says simply.