When I'm Gone (Rosemary Beach #11)(13)

“I’m stupid . . . I . . . my brain doesn’t work right. I went to school for twelve years and still didn’t graduate. I can’t pass a test. I can’t . . . I can’t even read. Not much.”

Holy shit.

She lifted her hand up to wipe at her tears, and her full lips were puckered up. She was even gorgeous when she cried.

“You’re not stupid,” I said tightly. I hated hearing her call herself that. Something was wrong with her, but she was not stupid.

She let out a sad laugh and continued to wipe away her tears. “You may be the first person who knows about this and doesn’t think I’m stupid.”

My body tensed, and an angry coil tightened in my chest. “Did someone tell you that you were stupid?” I asked, unable to keep my emotions out of my voice. I was pissed.

She stiffened, then glanced at me warily. “Yes?” she replied softly.

“Who?”

She studied me a moment. At least my reaction had stopped her tears.

Those big eyes sucked you in, but with them all wet and red from crying, they were more lethal. You wanted to do whatever the hell was needed to make them shine with laughter.

“My parents, teachers, other kids . . . everyone,” she replied. “But I am. You just don’t know . . .” She trailed off, looking so forlorn and broken. Her tone told me that this wasn’t easy on her. I wondered if anyone in her life knew this.

“Then they’re the idiots. I’ve been around you enough to know you’re smart. You live on your own and have a job. A stupid person couldn’t accomplish all that.”

She frowned again, then crossed her arms over her chest as if she were protecting herself.

What kind of parents did this to their child? She must have been a breathtaking kid. The kind people wanted to watch just to see her smile. Hell, I even liked when she pouted.

“Don’t tell anyone, please,” she whispered, looking up at me.

Did she actually think I’d do that? I ran a hand through my hair in frustration, forgetting that it was pulled back in a ponytail.

I had to help her. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage that, considering I had to go back to Texas in two days. That had been my stepfather on the phone. I was getting more horses to board. And I needed the income. I couldn’t not go home in order to handle this.

“I would never do that. But I want to help you,” I told her, waiting for her to tell me no and try to make me leave. Instead, her lips puckered up again like she was about to cry. Shit, what had I done now?

“You’re so . . . nice. Why are you so nice? I clean your sisters’ houses. You don’t know me, not really. But you open doors for me, and you don’t act like I’m an idiot, and you . . . want to help me?” She said the last bit on a choked sob. “No one can help me. You can’t fix what isn’t there. And my brain just isn’t all there.”

Fucking hell. “Don’t say that again,” I warned her. I was done hearing her demean herself. I had seen intelligence shining in her eyes. “Your brain is fine.”

Reese’s eyes flashed something I didn’t understand, and then a small smile tugged on her lips as she sniffled. “You’re really a nice man, Mase Manning. I don’t normally like men. They . . . make me nervous. But you, you’re different.”

My own f*cking emotions were too raw for this. I couldn’t let myself question why she didn’t trust or like men. The haunted look in her eyes when she’d admitted that sent off a warning sign I couldn’t miss. She had more secrets—I’d bet my life on it.

Simple fact was, girls who looked like Reese knew men well. They had been controlling them since they hit puberty. Men didn’t frighten them. They owned men. Unless . . . No. I wasn’t letting my thoughts go there right now. But God, I hoped I was wrong.

“I have to leave in two days. I’m going back to Texas. I’ve got business to handle. But I am going to help you. When I’m gone, you can call me, and I’ll be there to listen. I’m a really good friend. But I need you to promise me that what I set up for you, to help you, you’ll do. You will trust me to put you in good hands. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m a phone call away.”

I wasn’t sure what the hell I was going to do in two days, but I had some connections. I was Kiro Manning’s son, and sometimes that meant something. I never used it for myself, but I’d use it to help Reese. Kiro could demand the best, and Reese was getting the best.

Reese tilted her head to the side, and I wondered again how long her hair was. How it looked draped across her shoulders. Did it naturally curl, or was it straight?

“Why?” she asked

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to help me?”

I didn’t even pause. “Because you’re worth helping.”

Reese

I stood staring at the door in wonder long after Mase had left.

I didn’t understand why he thought I was worth helping, but he did. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth spread through me. I was afraid to move. I didn’t want this feeling to vanish. I liked it too much. So I stood perfectly still and enjoyed it.

I was still gripping my phone in my hand. He had taken it from me and added his number to my contacts. He’d even taken a photo of the boots he was wearing so that it would appear on the screen when he called. I wouldn’t have to worry about trying to read his name. I would know who was calling.