Glow (Glimmer and Glow #2)(120)

There wasn’t a chance in hell.

He reached for the saddle. He heard the stable door open and glanced around in surprise. It was only five thirty in the morning.

She stood just inside the closed door. A mild shock seemed to pass through him and he let go of the saddle without intending to. They just stared at each other, the moment stretching tight.

She’d mostly healed, he realized numbly, his eyes eating up the vision of her. There was still a little fading discoloration from bruising on her right cheek. It only seemed to make her lovelier, somehow emphasizing her finely made, delicate bone structure and the smooth radiance of her skin. She looked the same, but different as well, to his stunned gaze. Her hair had been cut and styled, the color returned to what he’d guess was her natural one—a shining auburn with gold highlights. She’d had it cut in a short, asymmetrical style that highlighted her elegant neck, large eyes, and beautiful face, to say nothing of her nonconformist spirit. The haircut was surprisingly crisp, chic, and professional-looking. It made her look more sophisticated he realized. He was glad to see her newfound maturity, but also saddened a little. He knew what had aged her. She’d changed while away from him, and that in itself was sad.

He thought maybe he’d aged right along with her on that night in July. And in the days since then, he’d sometimes felt ancient.

Using all his will, he resisted the urge to go to her. No matter what he was feeling, he didn’t know what she was experiencing. Watching her walk away had cut him to the bone. He couldn’t watch her do it again with his defenses lowered.

“What are you doing here, Alice?”

“I came for the press conference, and . . .” She swallowed thickly. He’d thought it so many times before; that she was like a wild creature. But this morning was different. Always before, he’d wondered if Alice would show her feral nature by baring her teeth. Today, there was more of a doe-like, skittish quality to her wildness. His heart went out to her. She was vulnerable.

But so was he.

“And?” he asked briskly. Needing something to distract him, he started to take off his gloves. Why didn’t she speak? He looked at her with edgy expectancy.

“I walked through the camp. It seemed so empty,” she said with a shaky smile, waving at the door.

“So you came to see the camp?” he asked bluntly. He felt like a man poised in front of a firing squad with someone who was hesitant about giving the order to fire.

“I came to see you. I . . . I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Dylan, why are you making this so hard?”

“Because I don’t know what you’re here to say,” he bit out in frustration.

Their stares held. He perfectly sensed her desperation and vulnerability. She wasn’t any better at this than he was. No, she was worse at it, the truth be told. He knew that about her. The desire to go to her nearly overwhelmed him. But these were steps Alice needed to make on her own, whether they were ones toward him . . . or in the opposite direction.

“I can’t do everything, Alice,” he said, his voice vibrating with emotion. “Some steps, you’ve got to make on your own.”

Steeped in frustration, he hefted Kar Kalim’s saddle and started back toward the stalls.

“Dylan. No . . . wait. Damn it, will you listen to me?”

It was the reemergence of Alice’s characteristic acerbic tone that made him turn to face her, more than anything. He tossed Kar Kalim’s saddle to the floor in irritation.

“What? What do you want to say, Alice? Spit it out, for Christ’s sake.”

She’d hurried after him when he walked away. Five feet was all that separated them now. She made a huffing sound at his challenge, her eyes wide in outrage at his harshness. She opened her mouth, as if to give him some smart-ass retort. He resisted a strong urge to close the distance between them and thrust his tongue between her lips, shut her up in the best way possible . . .

Maybe she caught a sense of how violently chaotic his emotions were at the moment, because her mouth snapped shut.

“I told you that I needed some space. Some time,” she began.

He merely nodded once, waiting, his lungs burning, his muscles clenched tight in order to still his urge to move.

She shut her eyes briefly, as if summoning strength, before she continued.

“I thought a lot about things while I was at Maggie’s. With Kehoe’s sentencing coming up, I thought about what my life would have been like if he’d never entered the picture,” she said hoarsely. “I thought a lot about what he’d cost me: a father and a mother, a loving home, a normal, secure, blessed existence.”

“You’re right. He took all that from you,” Dylan agreed.

He saw her elegant throat contract as she swallowed. She stepped closer. His heartbeat started to pound in his ears.

“He took more than that. He took you,” she said shakily, even though her gaze was steady and fierce. “For twenty years of my life, he took you. I don’t want to let him take anymore, Dylan.”

For a moment, everything narrowed down to her large, entreating eyes, her beautiful, soft mouth, and the roar of his heart in his ears. She isn’t going to run again.

“I don’t want that, either,” he admitted, steeling himself. “But it’s not Kehoe’s choice anymore. It’s yours.”