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He laughs. “I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“You say that now because you see a roof and no tent. But I should warn you, there’s no electricity or running water. You might beg me to leave after using the outhouse out back. It’s seen better days. We don’t have to sleep out here. I just thought you might want to see it.”

I hate that I ramble when I’m nervous. That it’s always so obvious how I’m feeling.

Shane’s expression is soft as he brushes my hair out of my face. “It’s beautiful.”

His fingers trace down my cheek, along my neck, and he hasn’t stopped looking at me.

When his hand finally falls to my thigh, I relax my head back against the lounger and look up at the sky. “My mom used to bring us out here for family time. Nothing but empty sky and shooting stars.”

“What happened to your mom?”

I’m caught off guard, even if I shouldn’t be. I mentioned her death weeks ago, but he’s yet to ask anything about it. Maybe something changed after his confessions tonight. He shared a piece of his truth, and he’s asking the same in return.

“She was killed,” I say, finally.

It’s been so long since I’ve said those words out loud; I wasn’t sure I could. When people ask how I lost my mom, I usually just tell them she passed away to avoid more questions. But with Shane’s dark eyes on me, I’m an open book whether I like it or not. Besides, he won’t judge. He simply listens. Which gives me the courage to keep talking.

“It was a couple of years after graduation. Dad had been called out to the ranch to help my brothers with a broken pump, so Mom held down a busy night at Ransack. I was staying the night at Nora’s, but I had this funny feeling all day, so I decided to walk around the corner and check on Mom around closing to see if she needed anything.”

Shane squeezes my hip when I pause. Tears sting the corners of my eyes.

“Apparently, there had been this group of guys passing through town. Mom had mentioned them to Dad on the phone. She said they were causing a bit of trouble, but nothing she couldn’t handle with locals watching her back. He offered to drive back into town, but we were in the middle of a heat wave and getting the pump up and running was important, so she insisted she was fine. When the guys got worse, she kicked them out of the bar, and she thought that was the end of it.”

A tear rolls down my cheek, but Shane sweeps it away.

“They waited in the alley for her to leave.” My throat tightens, and I pinch my eyes closed. “What they did… What I saw… I turned the corner, and my heart stopped. I thought she was already dead because of how she was lying there.”

“God, Harloe,” Shane mumbles, squeezing my hip and pulling me closer.

“I was on the phone with Will when I walked up, and it slipped from my hand when I saw them. They panicked and pulled their guns.” I press my palm to the healed bullet wound at my side. “I didn’t feel the shot at the time, even though I heard the gun go off. I don’t know how it’s possible to not feel yourself getting shot, but all I could think about was getting to my mom. I didn’t even think about what I was doing until I slammed into one of the guys near her and made him drop his gun.”

Shane cradles my cheeks as I cut off with a sob. “You don’t have to keep going. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I need to say this.” Another tear slips out, and with it, everything I’ve bottled up for the past decade. “I grabbed the gun, and I started shooting until it was just clicking. I think I shot one of them because he flinched, but it didn’t stop him. He was angry, and he grabbed my mom. When her head hit the brick, I heard the crack. I’ll never not hear that crack. She died because of me. Because I shot at them. Because I couldn’t just stand down. I couldn’t stop.”

“You were trying to defend her, Harloe.”

“I made them angry. If I hadn’t shot them, they might have left us. She might still be alive.”

“You can’t do that. You can’t put that on yourself.” Shane frowns, trying to reassure me even when I know he carries his own guilt about his brother’s death.

I shake my head. “I didn’t care what happened after that. I figured I was dead anyway, so all that mattered was getting to her, even if it meant crawling and bleeding out in the process. But then someone rode by, yelling, and they all fled. It might have been another one of their guys stopping them from doing worse, or it might have been someone passing through. I don’t know, but they left then, and it felt like a long time before anyone else showed up, even though it was probably only minutes.”

Shane threads his fingers through my hair, and I shiver.

I’ve never told anyone the full story. At least, not since I told the cops and my family the next day. I can’t handle the sympathy or the guilt that inevitably goes along with it.

But Shane doesn’t look at me with pity. His dark eyes are filled with understanding, like he recognizes the pain I carry.

I’m not the only one haunted by the ghosts of my mistakes.

“What happened is not your fault, Harloe. Some people do terrible things, but you can’t carry that burden of their actions.” His teeth clench as if the thought alone has him barely holding back. “You tried to stop it. That’s so fucking brave.”

“I didn’t feel brave. I just felt angry.”

A sad smile climbs in the corner of his mouth. “Half of being a hero is being pissed off at what’s in front of you and having the fucking guts to do something about it. It’s not as pretty as people think.”