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“Thank you, that would be nice,” I said, though in truth, I had no interest in the dessert. I had all the dessert I needed at home.
In the form of a large bottle of whiskey.
Mrs. Grainger stood and quickly took my plate to the kitchen.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” I said to everyone, then I was hurrying to the front door where the coat rack was. I wasn’t surprised when Dallas appeared at my side.
There was one single word typed onto the screen on his phone.
Stay.
On any other day, I would have been thrilled by the request. Today, it just hurt.
Because I couldn’t give him that. It was just too damn hard. But I couldn’t explain that to him.
“I should get going,” I murmured. “It’s a long walk.”
I’ll drive you.
I automatically shook my head.
You let Alex drive you to the meeting the night of the town council meeting.
Yeah, and it’d been a horrific ten minutes, especially since I’d had to work extra hard to make sure the deputy who I also considered a friend hadn’t recognized how fucked-up in the head I was. It wasn’t like I’d wanted to answer a lot of questions about why sitting in any kind of vehicle made me want to throw up.
As badly as I wanted to explain things to Dallas, I also really just needed to get the hell out of there. My skin felt like it had a million fire ants crawling beneath it and it was all I could do not to storm back into that dining room and drag Isaac out of his chair and ask him what the fuck the good-looking veterinarian could do for him that I couldn’t.
Because I already knew the answer to that.
Everything.
“Please, Dallas,” I said. My back was to him and my hand was on the doorknob, so I couldn’t see his expression.
I didn’t want to.
The only evidence I had that he was letting me go was when he reached past me and gently pushed my hand out of the way so he could open the door himself. I hurried through it, not looking back as I tugged the collar of my parka higher. It was cold out and there was a little bit of light snow falling, but nothing too bad. The chilly air felt good against my heated skin, so I didn’t search out my gloves right away or button up my coat.
I would in a few minutes.
As soon as I no longer felt the need to crawl out of my own skin.
I’d just reached the curb where Dallas’s truck was parked when I heard someone call out, “Maddox.”
I stilled because I knew who it was.
I didn’t turn around, so when Isaac reached me, he had to step in front of me.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” I automatically said when I saw he wasn’t wearing a coat.
The light from the streetlamp above us illuminated his frown. Snowflakes began to collect in his hair. The stark white was bright against the dark strands.
“You forgot this,” Isaac said as he handed me a little bag. “Mrs. Grainger said to add whipped cream to make it even better,” he added. “You also forgot this.”
He thrust a folded envelope at me. I tucked the bag with the pie beneath my arm and took the envelope, then looked into it.
It had money in it.
“What is—”
“I told you I don’t want your charity,” Isaac bit out. “I don’t need it.” He started to turn away, then spun around. “And frankly, I think it’s pretty cowardly to make your brother do your dirty work for you.”
I knew then what he was talking about. The money was the salary Dallas had offered to pay me for working at the sanctuary. The salary I’d told him to give to Isaac instead.
“I told you I didn’t need help!” he continued, his skin flushing as his anger grew. “And even if I did, you’d be the last person I asked.”
With every word he spoke, I felt my agitation growing. All I heard in my head was Sawyer’s name repeated on a loop. He’d take Sawyer’s charity, he’d ask Sawyer for help, he’d be okay with Sawyer being around his brother, Sawyer would make him laugh, he’d let Sawyer touch him…
He wasn’t saying any of that, of course, but it was all I heard, and I knew if I didn’t do something and do it quickly, I’d lose it completely. I wanted to tell him to go back inside, back to goddamned Sawyer, but I couldn’t even rein in my frustration enough to speak, so I simply turned my back on him and began walking.
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he called. “Walk away. That’s what you’re good at, right?”
I told myself to keep walking. I practically demanded it of myself. But the part of me that had yet to be able to successfully let go of the strange pull Isaac had on me failed once again and I found myself turning around instead.
