Reveal (Wicked Ways #2)(84)

I can’t explain the burning in my eyes caused by the sweet gesture of this incredible little girl.

“I can borrow it?” I ask. “You sure?”

She eyes me briefly. “If you’re a friend of Auntie Vee’s, then I know you’ll take care of it and won’t lose it.”

“I won’t lose it.” I rub the key between my finger and thumb before looking back up to meet her gaze. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” She adds eyelashes to the butterfly’s eyelids and then sits back with a smile. “It’s all done now. What do you think?”

I take a few moments to study it. “It’s perfect.”

She angles her head to the side. “Yeah. I think so too.”

“Should we hang it on the wall and then go have our picnic?”

“Picnic?” Her body begins to vibrate in excitement. “You’re taking me on a picnic?” Tears well in her eyes, and I can’t put words to what the sight of them does to me.

“Technically, we have to do it on the grounds here because I don’t have permission to take you off-site, but I saw a super cool spot in the shade under a tree.”

“By the fairy garden? That’s the best place ever.” She’s already standing, already tugging on my arm in that direction.

“We have to hang your picture first.”

“No, I want you to keep it.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure.”

She tugs on my arm again. “This will be my first date, you know,” she states matter-of-factly as we head toward where the counselors let me stash the lunch I’d thought to bring.

“Friend date,” I correct.

“Yes. Sure. Friend date. Now you need to go and pick me some flowers. That’s what all the princes do these days.”

It’s hard to leave when my time is up and Lucy’s daily classes resume. My fingers worry over the key I have in my pocket as I head to my car.

The necklace. Is that why I came here today? Simply to get a closer look at it for my own purposes? Or was it because I wanted to see Lucy and in turn remind myself why Vaughn is fighting so damn hard?

As if I needed a reminder.

Maybe it was because she blew me off again today, and deep down, the man who never cares or panics when it comes to women kind of is.

She’s pulling away from me bit by bit.

I try to shake the thought from my mind but can’t. Scenes from my childhood replay in my head—the parts where my mom gets what she wants from a man and then ultimately decides she’s done with him.

The underlying reason I have always represented men before—because they don’t stand a goddamn chance once a woman turns cold or bored.

But relationships can work, can’t they? I thought that was what Vaughn had shown me. I thought that was what I was starting to believe. That if you fight hard enough, listen silently, and put in the effort, they could work.

Then why is Vaughn going radio silent all of a sudden?

Is she tired of me already? Has she played her side of the game—made me chase after her, fight for her, reeled me in, and now that she’s accomplished it, she’s done with me?

Is that what this is?

The thought eats at my mind. I can’t shake it. I should know better when I call Bella and have her cancel my afternoon meetings.

But I don’t acknowledge it until I pull into Vaughn’s driveway for the second time in one day.

My knock sounds heavy, but so is my goddamn heart. I’m almost desperate to prove to myself that she still cares. That this isn’t over.

It can’t be.

“Vaughn. It’s me.”

Silence.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

“Open up. Please. I’m worried about you.”

The thoughts that have been swirling around in my head spin out of control with a clarity that was previously clouded by my insecurities. She canceled with me after meeting a potential client. She won’t show me her face today.

Did her new client rough her up? Did he hurt her?

Pound. Pound. Pound.

“C’mon, Vaughn. Just show me you’re okay.”

Carter Preston. He’s back in town. That fucker better not have touched her.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

“I’m not going away until I get to see you.”

For some reason, I know she’s on the other side of the door.

I lower my voice and force myself to be calm. “I just want to know that you’re okay. I’ll leave once I do.” I rest my forehead against the door. “You can’t want people to care about you, then expect them to turn it off when it suits you.”

“I’m fine.” Her voice sounds anything but fine. My pulse leaps at the sound of it.

“Let me see you, please?” My hand fists on the door. “I’m having all these visions in my head that your client beat you up or worse, and it’s driving me crazy. I can’t get them out of my mind until I see you.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Please.”

I hear the deadbolt click, and I step back. Vaughn’s standing there, eyes puffy, hair a mess—the worst I’ve ever seen her but so goddamn beautiful compared to the horrid images in my mind of her bruised and battered.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” My hands are framing her face immediately, because there’s sick and then there’s swollen from crying.