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  “Seriously, I’ll be fine,” she told him.

  Though, to be honest, the thought of going out in the city by herself was daunting. As it was, her nightmares left her running through unfamiliar dark streets. She didn’t want to live her nightmares in real life.

  “No, you won’t. Not in Chicago, Belle,” he said, slurring her nickname.

  “Brennan, you’re drunk. Pretty much wasted. You’re going to be no help on the streets tonight,” Devon said.

  “Plan on getting on a train tomorrow? Well, you walk around Chicago by yourself, and you won’t be,” he told her.

  Devon swallowed hard. She didn’t want to be on a train tomorrow. In fact, she wanted nothing less than to not return to St. Louis. She just hadn’t figured out how to stay.

  “What do you suggest then?” she demanded, wanting to get out of here.

  He smiled lazily. “My place is just around the corner. You can crash there.”

  Devon flushed. “I think I’ll just find a cab or something.”

  “Hey, guys!” Hadley cried, crashing back into the party. “Let’s do some shots!”

  “I think I’m going to go back,” Devon said, crossing her arms.

  “What? No, you just got here, and you’re leaving tomorrow,” Hadley said.

  Devon didn’t want to make a scene in the middle of the bar, but she was becoming more and more irritated because Hadley was treating her like an idiot. Devon was far from an idiot.

  “I just think it’s time to leave,” she said.

  “Nope, nope,” Hadley said, hanging on Devon’s arm and leaning on her shoulder. “This is your party. You’re staying.”

  Devon pulled Hadley out of earshot. “It stopped being my party when you and your friends went into the restroom to snort cocaine. Hadley, what the fuck?”

  Devon wasn’t going to ask. She had never thought that it would happen, but she was worried about her friend. Ironic, to say the least, but the last thing she wanted was for Hadley to get addicted to drugs and give up everything she had been working toward.

  Hadley’s face paled. “What?”

  “You heard me. I was there.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Hadley, please,” Devon said, holding up her hand.

  “It’s only been once or twice, Devon,” she said, realizing she wasn’t getting out of it.

  “I don’t care. It’s addictive for a reason. It could ruin your life.”

  “It’s not going to ruin my life,” Hadley said, rolling her eyes. “We’re just having a good time.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” Devon said.

  “So, what? You’re leaving because you’re judging me and my friends?” Hadley asked.

  Devon watched Hadley’s pupils visibly dilate before her eyes. Yeah, as if she hadn’t taken cocaine.

  “I don’t care about your friends. I care about you.”

  “Well, don’t worry about me,” Hadley said with a shrug. “Will I see you later at the apartment?”

  It was a dismissal. She was riding into her high, and likely, she wouldn’t care about much.

  “No,” Devon said with a shake of her head. “I’m leaving with Brennan.”

  “Ohhh,” Hadley said, raising her eyebrows. “Now, who is the rebel? Does he know about Reid? I say fuck him anyway. Brennan’s gorgeous.”

  Devon rolled her eyes. In the morning, Hadley would realize that Devon wasn’t there, and that would do enough to freak her out. She was too far-gone for Devon to reach anything logical.

  “Bye, Hadley. Get home safe,” Devon said sadly.

  Maybe she should have waited with Hadley or should have said something more to get her to go home. Maybe she should have done more in general. But Devon felt completely defeated. If Hadley was this messed up, then what did it say about her?

  Devon walked away from Hadley and back to where she had left Brennan.

  “I’m going to find Garrett. Just give me a minute, and then we’ll go,” she told Brennan.

  He seemed to find this acceptable. She left him standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Garrett’s bulky form was easy to locate in the crowd. He was talking with the husbands and fiancés of Hadley’s friends. Devon couldn’t even begin to remember their names.

  Garrett smiled as she approached. “Hey, Dev. Are you enjoying your party?”

  “I’m getting tired actually,” she said, yawning. “Going to call it an early night.”

  “Oh, alright,” he said, sounding a bit disappointed. “Have you told Hadley?”

  “Yeah, she’s pretty messed up though. Just wanted to make sure you knew to take extra care of her.”

  “I always do, but thank you. Do you need help getting home? Need me to hail you a cab or anything?”

  “No, I’m fine. Brennan is going to help me out,” she told him.

  Garrett frowned at that. He clearly was more concerned. “I think he’s pretty gone, too. Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

  She did want his help, but she didn’t want to go back to the place he shared with Hadley. She wanted to be angry with Hadley for her stupidity, and she couldn’t do that if she were surrounded by her hospitality. She couldn’t face Hadley the next morning when she would wake up and go about her life like she wasn’t destroying it.

  Devon declined his help once more and then left as quickly as she could extract herself. Garrett was too nice, too caring. Devon had never once thought that someone would be too good for Hadley…until this moment.

  “I’m ready,” she told Brennan when she reached him.

  IT WAS A chilly night, and Devon hugged herself against the wind as they headed to Brennan’s place. He hadn’t been lying when he said he lived right around the corner. His apartment was no more than two or three blocks from the John Hancock Center. They took the elevator up to his apartment where it was thankfully warm.

  She was surprised by the interior. She knew he probably made good money as a bartender in this part of the city, but she wouldn’t have thought his apartment would be so nice. It was a one bedroom with a full kitchen with adjoined dining room, and spacious living room. The apartment was clean with relatively new furniture. It wasn’t what she would have considered Brennan to have, being a bachelor and all.

  Devon set her purse on a side table. “Nice place.”

  “Thanks,” he said, walking into the kitchen and pulling out a beer. “Want anything?”

  “No, thanks. I think I’m done.”

  “You didn’t have much to drink for being so done.” He was clearly more comfortable in his own home than at Jenn’s or the bar.

  “Just a long night is all.”

  “We left early.”

  “Yeah. Long in a different way then.”

  Devon sat down on the sofa and got comfortable amid the throw pillows. Brennan took a seat next to her and flipped on the television.

  “You want to talk about it?” he asked, putting on ESPN as background noise.

  “No,” she said instantly.

  “Alright.”

  The conversation ended, and Devon sat there frozen, watching baseball highlights. She felt bad for cutting him off so abruptly. Maybe she was being ridiculous.

  “How do you afford this place bartending?” she asked, hoping that the subject was neutral enough.

  “Don’t like to talk about it.” He took a drink from his beer.

  “Oh,” she breathed.

  Brennan finished his beer in silence and then placed the empty bottle on the coffee table. Devon watched as he stood and stretched out his lean muscles. He wasn’t overly built, but he was all muscle. He raised his arms over his head, and her eyes darted to his exposed stomach, then quickly away.

  He left for a minute and then returned with a bunch of blankets in his arms. He tossed them onto the couch. “You taking the bed, Belle?”

  “Couch is good with me,” she told him.

  “Whatever suits you, suits me,” he said. “Here’s the remote.”


  “You can just turn it off. I’m going to pass out,” she said, averting her eyes.

  He turned to go, but then he seemed to think better of it. He sat down next to her on the couch again. “You going to tell me what’s eating at you?” He looked at her more intently than ever before.

  She shook her head. “Nothing is.”

  “You pissed about Hadley?” he asked, hitting on the most superficial problem.

  “How did you know?”

  “I pay attention.”

  “So…you know what she’s up to?” she asked carefully.

  “That she’s snorting coke?” he asked. “Yeah, I know about that.”

  “Does Garrett know?” she asked quickly.

  Brennan shook his head. “No way. He thinks she’s perfect. Could you imagine if Mr. Perfect found out his Princess was a coke addict?”

  “She’s an addict?” she squeaked.

  “Depends on your definition. She’s done it more than a few times.”

  He was being loose with his words because he was drunk. Devon probably shouldn’t have been taking advantage of the situation in his state, but she wanted answers.

  “How do you know all about her problem if he doesn’t?” Devon asked out of curiosity.

  “When you’ve done shit before, you can see it in a person. Once she found out that I knew, she stopped hiding it around me,” he told her honestly.

  “You do…coke, too?” she asked, her heart sinking. Was that what was up with him? But didn’t it normally make them upbeat or fidgety?

  “Nah. Just once and knew it wasn’t for me. Mostly weed.”

  Ah, that explains it, she thought.

  “You could use some weed,” Brennan told her. “You’re too uptight, Belle.”

  Devon frowned. Typical. “I’m going to pass.”

  “Suit yourself, but I think you’d like it,” he said, turning to face her with a smile.

  “I’ve done it before,” she said, not wanting to admit how much she used to smoke. For a long time, she had thought she studied better high. It had become a problem when she was pretty much always studying.

  “You?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Yeah. Surprised?”

  “Wouldn’t have pegged you.”

  “Oh right, square.” Devon gestured at herself with her hands.

  “I dig square,” he told her bluntly.

  Oh damn, how messed up is he? Devon wondered.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, glancing down.

  She didn’t know how else to deflect the conversation. Brennan was nice…well, kind of, and he was very attractive. She needed to get out of this territory. She was here for a place to crash, and crashing sounded like a good idea right about now.

  When Devon felt his hand reach out and touch her cheek, her eyes fluttered up to meet his. Before she had a chance to react, he leaned forward and kissed her lips. Her shock held her at bay. He did nothing more than hold his soft lips against hers. They were foreign and strange yet enticing.

  She felt her body respond to his touch. His fingers moved and threaded through her hair, tugging on it slightly in his haste. She had too many thoughts swirling in her head to keep it all straight at once. The most prominent ones were how good this felt, how wrong this felt, and how surprised she was that he was even doing this.

  Had he ever given her an indication that he wanted to kiss her before that last comment? She couldn’t remember.

  She didn’t know why, but tears welled in her eyes. They slid easily down her cheeks, mixing salt with the taste of alcohol on his lips.

  Brennan pulled back to look at her and she gasped out, “I have a boyfriend.”

  Brennan dropped his hands into his lap. “Oh.”

  Devon bit down on her lip as she waited for him to say something more. He just stared at her, his eyes slightly hazy. She wanted him to say something, anything. Was he pissed? Was he shocked? Did he expect something from her?

  “Good night then,” he said finally as he stood.

  She stared up at him, her brow furrowed with trepidation. Was that it? He wasn’t mad? He wasn’t going to push the topic? Didn’t he have more to say?

  He made it all the way to his bedroom door before turning back to look at her. He seemed to be waiting for something, but she didn’t know what it was.

  “Good…good night, Brennan,” she told him.

  Whatever she was supposed to say…that wasn’t it.

  He hung his head a little and then nodded. “Have a safe trip tomorrow, Devon.”

  As Brennan shut the door behind him, she realized that was the first time he had ever called her by her name.

  DEVON WALKED DOWN the dirt lane kicking her cowboy boots against the small rocks in her path. The day was approaching dusk, and the sun was hanging heavy over the horizon, splattering the sky with pink, orange, and yellow. She finger combed her blonde hair down to her waist. She wished she had a hat because her hair was a rat’s nest.

  She whistled her latest tune recalling the lyrics she had sang for her parents earlier that day. They liked them the song so much that they wanted to send it off to a label. They thought their Dixie girl would be a star. She didn’t know about any of that, but she liked writing it all down.

  Devon veered off the road, taking a shortcut through an open field. She was thankful for her boots as she trekked through the waist-high grass. It had been a warm day, but the night was rapidly cooling the temperatures. She shouldn’t have been surprised in the least, but somehow, she would always forget her cardigan for the walk.

  The wind whipped across the grass, tying her hair in knots and matting it to her face. She struggled to keep it away, but there was just too much of it for it to make a difference. While she fought with her hair, her sundress flew up around her stomach. She yanked it back down to cover herself, but she was having little luck. Grumbling in frustration, she cursed the wind for its timing.

  She and her brother, Dustin, had taken this shortcut for years. It was only a matter of time before Dani knew about it as well. That thought terrified Devon.

  When she crossed the halfway point between the road and the woods, she heard boots crunching against the earth behind her. Rolling her eyes, Devon turned back around.

  Dustin better not be trailing me again, she thought.

  Her eyes roamed the field, trying to make out if someone was on the road. She couldn’t really see anyone, but out here, that didn’t mean no one was there. Shaking off the feeling, Devon turned and continued across the open field. She had plans, and getting spooked out in the open wasn’t going to stop her.

  When her feet hit the tree line, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Devon swallowed and looked around, her stomach sinking in apprehension. She felt ridiculous for feeling anxious like this, but her parents had filled her head with stories from the news about girls getting abducted, being sold into prostitution, and then getting killed. Too many stories like that had happened recently. She had always told her mom that she was a worrywart, but now that her nerves were getting to her, Devon was wondering if her mother worried for good reason.

  She still didn’t see anyone approaching, but she could feel eyes on her. It was an obvious feeling, like the way Matt had stared at her in the back of the classroom. But this was worse.

  Hightailing it out of there, Devon broke through the trees onto the narrow trail. It wasn’t a long walk from there, but she increased her pace anyway. She had a terrible feeling about all of this. Why hadn’t she just stayed home? Why couldn’t she listen to anything anyone told her?

  She definitely heard footsteps behind her. They weren’t exactly close, but they didn’t have to be to freak her out. She was alone after all, and all things considered, she was a small person. There was no way she could fend off someone purposefully chasing her. Her only hope would be for her to make it out of the tree line.

  Fear pushed at her pores, and she felt panic hitting her like a ton of bricks. What kind of person would cha
se after her in the middle of the woods? Would she be one of those news stories—pieces of a dead body from a young woman found buried in the woods near her house? Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down. She was only freaking herself out more.

  Taking off at a sprint, Devon pushed forward as fast as she could go. She had never been a runner, and the last beer she’d had was sloshing around in her stomach, slowing her down. Why had she done that? If she hadn’t, would she be faster? She couldn’t think about it.

  Her boots slowed her down even more. They weren’t meant for running distances. They were meant for horseback riding, and more importantly, they looked good.

  Her feet pounded the dirt as she tried to hold her pace. The end of the trail was approaching, but she could feel her pursuer gaining on her. On a straight stretch in the trail, she looked over her shoulder, and her long hair flew out in every direction around her face. She could definitely see a figure, but with a quick look, she couldn’t tell who it was or if she even recognized the person.

  Hadn’t her mother told her that 95 percent of reported cases were people that the victim knew firsthand?

  Finally reaching the road, she looked both ways before crossing. She ran straight across the lawn between the double oak trees and up the creaking wooden stairs. She yanked open the screen door and banged on the front door. Devon heard a familiar answering call, and she pushed into the house without another thought.

  It was a small run-down one bedroom shack that hadn’t been inhabited for as long as Devon had known about it. She had been sneaking away here to have sex with her boyfriend for nearly as long. He should already be here. He would protect her. Would the person following her try to get into the house? It wasn’t secure by any means. Her pursuer wouldn’t have a hard time breaking in.

  Devon slammed the door shut and slid the lock into place, hoping that it would help.

  “Mason!” she called out frantically.

  No answer.

  “Mason!” she yelled again, rushing to the closed bedroom door.

  He had knocked back when she came to the door. It was their signal. She hadn’t made up the fact that he had knocked back. Where the hell was he?

  Devon pushed open the bedroom door and found the room transformed. It was stark white everywhere from the walls to the four-poster bed to the carpet and curtains. The room was unbelievably bright, like she had entered another world.