Split(12)

“I know all the finishing work needs to be done, and it still needs some exterior work, but I can—”

“No.”

I jerk back and glare. “Why not?”

“It needed work—”

“Right, and I said I’d do the work.” He knows better than to treat me like some fragile flower that can’t handle a little labor. Hell, he taught me how to frame when I was twelve. My face burns with anger.

“It’s not that.”

I push back from the table, the harsh scratch of the chair legs on the floor intensifying the moment. “What is it, then?”

“It’s occupied.”

My stomach drops and I blink slowly. “I’m sorry . . . what?”

“Got a guy livin’ there now.” The way he says it, so unapologetically, like he didn’t deliver a verbal sucker punch, inflames me.

“How . . .?” No, he hasn’t set foot in that place for eight years and now he’s got a f*cking tenant? “That’s Mom’s place.” The high pitch of outrage tints my words.

“Shy . . .”

“No.” I shake my head. “Kick the guy out. Evict him. I’m her daughter! If anyone deserves to live there, it’s me.”

“No can do, baby.”

“I can’t believe you’d do this.” I slam my palms on the table. “That was Mom’s dream house and you let a stranger move in? Was Cody okay with this?”

His failure to answer says all I need to know.

“I can’t f*ckin’ believe this!” I push up from my chair, not sure where I’m going, only that I need to get the hell away before I say something I can’t take back. A voice in my head whispers that he’s not the only one who’s irrational about that house, but I ignore it. “You had no right. How could you— No, forget it.” I grab my keys off the counter and storm out the back door. “I don’t care.”

If he thinks I’m going to live here with the memory of my mom’s death hanging off the walls like décor, he’s f*cking crazy. I’d rather sleep in the dirt.





FOUR



LUCAS


Nothing is as peaceful as a quiet day in the mountains when the only sound is the wind through the pine trees. It’s one of the reasons I settled in Payson.

It’s the absence of that silence, the complete opposite of serenity that has me stuck frozen outside Nash Jennings’s home. I could hear it as I pulled up the dirt drive, and the sound has me nearly paralyzed in fear.

The angry and shrieking voice of a woman.

A woman.

I haven’t known Cody and Nash for that long, but not once have I heard of my boss having a woman. Not that he’d talk about it if he did; he doesn’t strike me as the type to share the details of his personal life.

Cody leans forward in his seat and registers the tan-colored truck parked outside the house. “Oh shit . . .” He grins wide, humor in his voice. “She’s back.”

I swing my gaze between the house and Cody. “You okay with me droppin’ you off?”

He tilts his head toward me. “You kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for anything.” He grabs his tool belt off the floor and pushes out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride.”

Right as he’s about to shut the door, the slamming of a different door echoes from the rustic old house.

“I don’t care!”

A woman, or rather a girl, as she looks to be more my age than Nash’s, stomps across the gravel toward the truck. She trudges down the path, then stops with a yelp and cradles her bare foot. She hops on one leg, cussing like I’ve never heard a woman cuss, then drops to her butt. Her sleek black hair falls over her face as she inspects her wounded heel.

“You’re clumsy as hell, you know that, right?” Cody yells at the girl, and her eyes dart to him. Illuminated by my headlights, I watch her hateful expression instantly soften.

I suck in a breath when I catch the full force of her face. Maybe it’s the dimming light of sunset, but her black hair and olive skin are an intense contrast to the palest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. I turn to Cody to avoid the intensity of her. The yelling, anger, and the fact that she’s female send sirens of retreat through my central nervous system. She’s overpowering.

“Oh, thanks a lot for the help, you piece of shit!” Although her words are harsh, they’re laced with affection, which is confusing.

Cody must pick up on it, too, because he barks out in laughter. “I’m coming, you big wuss.” He finally shuts the door to my truck and leans into the open window. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the delicate angel over there.”

“No, I better—”

“Take your time! My bloodstream’s flooding with tetanus, but you go ahead and have a chat.” She throws up one hand. “I’ll wait . . . f*cker.” She mumbles the last word and yet manages to still make it sound like a powerful curse.

He shakes his head but thankfully lets me off the hook. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He makes his way toward the girl and says something I can’t hear but it makes her smile. Who is she to him? Cousin, girlfriend, sister?

Not my business.

I throw the truck into reverse and back out of the drive, but not before looking up one more time to see those pale eyes staring right through me.