Page 16 of Crossroads

Or if they had no idea who I was: “There goes the man with the wicked burn scars. I wonder how he got them.”

I had noticed Kiera checking them out, as well as my tattoos, but she hadn’t asked. I didn’t know exactly what Briar had told her. Only I didn’t think she knew the whole story. She hadn’t looked at my scars with pity, just intrigue. I had no idea what that meant.

I got into my truck and headed home, slipping on my radio without thinking. I listened to books in the car, not music. Never music.

While my brother was a drummer, my sister was a songwriter, and I used to sing with my wife, I wasn’t talented enough to make it. I’d never tried it as it had never been my dream or ambition. I had loved music. It had been something I shared with Courtney. Though not in the deepest ways possible. It had been part of my soul, just like my brother’s.

And then Courtney was dead. Just like Malcolm. And I stopped singing. Stopped playing guitar. And stopped listening to the radio. It wasn’t until I had nearly pulled into my driveway that I realized I had been tapping my fingers along with the beat and listening to a Wilder song. I hadn’t even noticed.

I tapped my fingers to the beat. Kiera’s beat. Because this was a newer song. One made after Malcolm had died.

I quickly shut off the radio, my hands shaking. I let out a breath, turned off the engine, and got out of the truck, figuring I could go work. Using an axe on some wood would probably help relieve some of this tension.

I grabbed my things and headed to the back side of the property toward the barn, when I stopped in my tracks. I noticed Kiera sitting on the tiny front porch of the cabin, her knees folded up under her chin. She wore a large sweatshirt and what had to be short shorts. That or just her panties. That was a train of thought I needed to ignore.

With the porch light on, she was clearly visible. I had been checking the security cameras and system throughout my time away, but I hadn’t truly liked leaving Kiera there. And now seeing her out there all alone, I hated it.

“You’re back,” she said after a moment.

“I went to Summit Grill. Rune owns it. Do you know him?”

She nodded. “I’ve been there before. It’s really nice.”

I shook my head and then explained the camera situation and rules when it came to Rune’s place.

Her eyes widened. “That’s so thoughtful. I’m going to go there. I’m going to leave this house, leave this cabin, and see the town. I will.”

“I know you will.” The silence stretched between us, and I let out a breath. “I’m sorry for being a dick earlier.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re apologizing?”

“I am.” My voice rose just slightly at the incredulousness of her tone. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

A pause as she studied my face. Her gaze glanced over the scar before meeting my eyes. “May I ask why?”

“Why I’m sorry?”

A shake of her head. “Why did you look at me like I was a ghost when I was in the kitchen singing? Why when anytime I play music and you’re near, you hunch your shoulders.” I didn’t say anything for so long, she continued. “Is it Malcolm?”

I opened my mouth to say no, then realized that maybe. Maybe. “The only regret that I have of you taking over my brother’s place is that there was a spot empty in the first place. You’re good at what you do, Kiera. So fucking talented. I don’t see you as Malcolm’s true replacement. I see you as a drummer for a band. And I wish every day that my brother were still alive to play too. Those two realities don’t mix.”

Her eyes widened even as my heart raced. “You listened to me play?”

I let out a rough chuckle, surprising both of us. “That’s what you got out of that? Of course, you’re fucking talented, and I don’t tend to listen to music. Not anymore.” I let out a breath and continue before she could interrupt. I just needed to get this out. “I thought you were my wife. When I walked into the kitchen, it felt like my wife was back because she used to sing. And I used to join in. But she’s dead. Just like Malcolm’s dead. And I know you’re not her. I know that.”

“Bodhi…”

“Sing, Kiera. Sing. Because you clearly need to. It’s part of you. I’m sorry I was an asshole. I can’t say I won’t do it again, because I will. I yell. I curse. And I never used to yell. I used to be the nice one. But I’m an asshole. And that’s just me now. I’m sorry.”

I didn’t let her answer, didn’t let her say anything. I hadn’t meant to say all those words to begin with. Instead, I gave her a nod and moved toward the workshop, leaving the door open so I could hear her. I pulled out a few of my tools, and it only took a few moments before her cabin door shut and then opened again. And when it snicked once more, I knew she was sitting on her porch.

And the first few strums of the guitar echoed through my property, and my shoulders tensed infinitesimally before relaxing again.

And then Kiera sang a lullaby, one that I knew the words to and mouthed even though I refused to sing them. And I went to work, shoulders slightly relaxed, and I breathed.

Chapter 6

KIERA