“Daphne?” I called, worry starting to simmer. “You in there?”
I shuffled my feet at the door, wishing like hell I’d insisted on a key to her house before this moment. Hindsight… Always a bitch.
I jiggled the lock, affirming it was secure, before bending over the railing of her small porch and trying to peek through the folds of the curtains. A dash of movement caught my eye from the darkness inside, a shadow playing tricks, maybe, or the woman of the hour.
“Daphne…” I went back to tapping at the door with my knuckle. “I see you in there.”
The door rattled. The sound of a body sinking down the length of the door and landing on the floor was unmistakable. “Come on. Please don’t lock me out. Is it something I said? I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re mad at me. Ream me up and down if you have to, but don’t lock me out.”
I pressed my forehead to the door, hovering my hand at the knob and willing her to open it.
“I'm sorry I ran out on your mom.” Her tiny words squeaked through the wooden cracks.
My heart sighed with relief, my body sliding down the door until I was ass on porch. “She doesn’t mind. She’s just worried about you. I am too.”
Soft sobs sank into my ears, and my heart broke.
“Daphne, please tell me what’s wrong and what I can do to make it better.”
“Nothing.” Her cries turned up a level. “The damage is done.”
“Damage? Baby, what damage?”
She didn’t answer, but I waited.
I waited and I listened to her tears, because even if I couldn't hold her, I could let her know I was there for her. She could lock me out all she wanted, but I would never leave.
“Arkin! Oh my God, are you crazy? What are you doing out here?” An angel’s voice melted the sleep from my mind as I came to, early morning rays of sunlight streaming through the eaves of her porch roof.
“Morning, sugar.” I pressed up off the tiny welcome mat I’d been huddled on, one ear pressed to the door all night as I faded in and out of sleep to the sounds of her soft sobs. “I was prepared for at least a few more nights out here, if that’s what it took.”
My eyes trained on hers, red and watery and ravaged with all the feelings.
“You’re a sight for my tired eyes first thing in the morning.” I trailed my thumb across her temple, thankful for her skin against mine. “It was a long damn night without you in my arms.”
Her forced smile fell, eyes dropping to our feet.
“Would you mind if we made a cup of coffee? Help get the kinks out of these old bones before we have a talk about you locking me out all night?”
“You don’t want to have coffee with me, trust me.” She shook her head, backing off.
“Like hell I don’t.” I caught her hand, swirling her back into my chest where she belonged. “I was just offering you a chance to collect your thoughts before we get into the good stuff.”
I clasped her fingers with mine, dragging her into her tiny house alongside me.
“I may not look like the smartest tool in the shed, but after Layla was gone, Mom insisted I get myself into some grief counseling. I hated it at first, but it grew on me.” I paused, cupping her chin with my finger and forcing her gaze to meet mine. “I learned a few things: that talkin’ is the only way through a problem, and that grief takes many forms.”
The soft hollow of her throat moved as she tried to force down her emotions. “You deserve the best, Arkin, and I’m not it. Your family deserves better. Mine is a…nightmare.”
“Hey, I’m not interested in your family. I’m only interested in you and me. There isn’t a thing you could say that could scare me off now.” My teasing grin ticked to one side. “I slept on your front porch all night. I can’t imagine it gets much worse.”
Her gaze lingered, as if she were debating her next words. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew.”
“Try me.” I guided her to the couch, settling her beside me.
She pressed her lips together, hands twisting in her lap before she looked up, crestfallen expression on her face.
“I…I don’t know how to say this…” She looked like she was in physical pain. “My family… My father…he was a monster.”
