“That’s awful,” Ava whispered.

I dropped my hands but kept my gaze at the window.

I dropped my hands but kept my gaze at the window.

“Maybe, yeah. But I didn’t blame her. Stil don’t. It could get rough. Who’d want that?”

“A mother should protect her child!” Daisy burst out.

I turned my face from the window and smiled at Daisy.

“Wel , my Mom didn’t. I’m not whining. I used to get pissed off about it but there’s no going back, no changing anything, not who he is, she is or I am. We are who we are, we did what we did.”

“How did you cope?” Jules asked softly.

“I left, soon as I graduated high school. Took off my graduation robes, threw them on the bed, grabbed my guitar and left. I came to Denver, got in a band. You al know Floyd?” My eyes did a mini-scan and everyone nodded. “Wel , Floyd was the pianist. He told me I was good, better than most anyone he’d heard. Until then, no one had ever said anything like that to me in my whole effing life. Definitely not my Dad and also not my Mom. I knew why, if she did, she’d court the Wrath of Dad, so she didn’t.”

“Oh sugar,” Daisy whispered and I saw her eyes had tears in them.

“Don’t cry for me Daisy,” I said softly. “I’m not broken, just scarred.”

“Wel , I’d think Mace wouldn’t ever leave if he knew al this shit. How is this part of why he broke up with you?” Al y snapped.

“Oh, I never told him any of this.” I waved my hand in front of me and noticed, in a vague way, Jet’s head snapping around and her attention coming to me.

around and her attention coming to me.

“You didn’t?” Jet’s eyes were wide, her face was pale and I saw her gaze slide to the side after she stopped speaking.

“No, and I’m glad I didn’t. If he left me because he thought I was needy, heck, if he knew this crap, wel , that would have made him leave sooner.”

“Stel a –” Jet started again, her voice now sounding more urgent.

“Anyway,” I kept going, talking over Jet, “after a few years, Floyd and I started another band. Then that band broke up and we started another one. The Gypsies. Then I met Mace. He made me feel good about myself, not when I was onstage, not when I had a guitar in my hands and a mic in front of my mouth but al the time. He made me feel good about just being me. Even when he wasn’t with me, just knowing he’d be with me eventual y felt good. A man like that, a good man… I ate it up. I sucked it out of him. I needed it. No one had ever made me feel that way, not even Floyd. I took al of that I could get too.”

“Stel a, girl –” Now Indy had gone pale and she was looking in the same direction as Jet.

“I don’t blame him –” I ignored Indy too.

“Stel a, honey bunches of oats –” Daisy tried to cut in, she was looking over her shoulder.

I ignored her too and went on, “Not for leaving me, I get it. But he’s like my Mom, my Dad too. I don’t blame them either. But I’l never forgive them. Not ever.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Jet breathed and the way she did it made me focus.

I saw that now everyone was looking in the same direction. My head turned to see what they were al staring at and it was Mace standing in the doorway. He had his shoulder leaned against the jamb, his arms crossed on his chest, his feet crossed at the ankles and his eyes on me.

He’d been there awhile.

Effing hel .

Al air evacuated my body and I stared at him.

Do you think he heard? My brain asked me.

“Come here,” Mace said to me.

Yep, he heard.

Queen of Super Shitty Luck strikes again!

I shook my head at Mace.

“Kitten, come here.” His voice was ultra-deep, low, soft and he was looking at me in a way… in a way…

I closed my eyes tight and shook my head again.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw him uncross his arms and ankles. He pushed away from the door and my body went tense.

“You can come here or I can come get you,” he stated.

“I –” I started to say but didn’t move. Apparently my non-movement was answer enough for Mace. His long legs took him across the room in no time. He got close, leaned in, his hand grabbed mine, his hold firm; he yanked me out of my seat to my feet and pul ed me out of the room.

“Oh lordy,” I heard Stevie say from behind me.

“Sugar, that ain’t the half of it,” Daisy added and she sounded excited.

Shitsofuckit!

Mace took me through the house and back to the room we’d slept in. I didn’t protest or struggle. So, he heard.

Maybe a little, maybe a lot. So what? Nothing had changed.

Right?

He hauled me in the room, stopped, closed the door and then turned back to me. His hand holding mine drew me near, nearer, nearer. He dropped my hand and both of his came to my waist. They slid around to my back and he started to pul me close.

Okay, it was safe to say something definitely had changed.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice breathy, my brain rethinking my decision not to protest or struggle. I had my head tipped back and was staring at his face.

His eyes weren’t blank but broody; they were intense and active.

I put my hands on his chest and he stopped pul ing me close. I figured this was mainly because he couldn’t get me closer without me moving my hands. Our bodies were pressed together, Mace looking down at me from his height, six inches tal er than me (this, for your information, was another of those seven hundred, twenty-five thousand things I missed most about him, him being so tal , since I was also tal , it made me feel petite and protected).

I was beginning to find it hard to breathe.

“You remember I told you after al of this was over, we gotta talk?” he asked.

I nodded, for some reason (okay, it was that look in his I nodded, for some reason (okay, it was that look in his eyes, he’d never looked at me like that, not even when we were together), I was afraid to speak.

“We’re not gonna wait ‘til this is over. We’re gonna talk now.”

Okay, not good. Al of a sudden, I didn’t want to get this over with.

I found my voice. “I’m not sure I want to talk.”

“That’s fine. I’l do the talking.”

Effing hel .

“I’m not sure I want that either,” I tried.

He dipped his head and his face got closer. “Sorry, Kitten. Enough time has been wasted.”