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“Good,” he said.

“Good,” I countered, thinking on Cricket and smiling secretly to myself.

I spread the pellets around my feet again, even though it was unnecessary. I cleared my throat. “So, uh, will Cricket go?”

“Yeah,” he said, thinking nothing of my question and my heart jumped. “Ethan takes her,” he finished, and my heart sank to my feet.

Heavy-ass heart.

When the day was done, I went back to the trailer and decided to catch some Z’s before everyone met up to drive out to Kalispell. I showered and fell to sleep in a blur of ten minutes. It had been several weeks since we’d come to the ranch, but it didn’t seem to matter. My muscles felt like they were ripped apart, healed with a night of sleep, then viciously ripped apart once more the next day. This had gone on day after day, week after week, and I was starting to feel the effects of it. I felt like a modern-day Prometheus.

And yet, though I was more tired than I had ever felt, I felt all the more accomplished for it. Life didn’t feel like I was merely existing from one droning moment to the next. I felt effective, useful and altogether worthy. I had never felt that before, not once my entire life had I ever felt truly valuable. I had earned the right to be proud, but being enlightened in that way only exacerbated the fact that I had so much further to go before I could ever deserve someone like Cricket.

“And so what?” Piper asked me.

“So what, what?” I replied, annoyed.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist.

“You think this sensation will last?” she asked, almost desperate. She was pacing behind me and I could see her wild reflection in the mirror. “This supposed merit? You will grow tired of the tedious days, you know. You will grow in resentment.” I scoffed at her as I began to shave. “You think to dismiss me so easily!” she asked hysterically.

I stopped what I was doing and narrowed my eyes at her. “If I could do that, you’d be gone completely,” I told her before returning back to my task.

“Spencer,” she said softly, remembering herself. She slithered across the marble floor to my side and leaned back against the bathroom countertop. “You’re losing your motivation. You’re dropping your guard.” I shook my head, casting off her statement. “You’re going to lose it all because she is going to take it!” she practically screamed, her cool facade breaking like weak glass.

I pulled away from her slightly and gauged her. “And what the hell is it to you, Piper?”

She smiled sweetly, but it felt frantic, forced. “I only want what’s best for you,” she hummed throatily.

“Why?” I questioned her.

She looked affronted. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Spencer,” she said before turning and fleeing the bathroom.

I woke having no real recollection of my dream, but I knew Piper had made an appearance because my hands shook. They always shook when I woke after a nightmare starring Piper.

I laid in bed staring at the window. The stars were gleaming. I picked up the alarm clock and glanced at the time. Eight o’clock.

“You going?” I heard a voice ask me from the direction of the little living area.

“Yeah, Bridge, I’m going.”

She sat on the uncomfortable banquette, watching the small television we’d bought. It was the only thing that would fit and not take up the entire trailer. I laughed when we bought it, remembering the forty-eight inch in my bathroom at home.

A knock came at the door. Bridge made a motion to stand, but I stayed her with a hand and got up to answer it myself. I swung the door open to see a very different Jonah than I was accustomed to.

“Who the hell are you?” I asked with a smile.

“Dang, what are you talking about?” he asked, mock dusting off his shoulders. “I always look this good.”

“No, Jonah, you look like a disheveled linebacker on a horse, that’s what you always look like.”

He dug his size five hundred shoe in the ground and ducked his head, his cheeks burning a bright red. He swung his head left then right and avoided my stare.

“You really are a massive goof, aren’t you? Come in, dude.”

He bounded up the steps like a five-year-old instead of the titan he was and ducked inside, removing his cap inside and smoothing his hair out with his hands. I followed behind him and noticed his face burned something close to the color of brick.

“Hey, Bridget,” he said with a lopsided grin.

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