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Prologue
Cindy
Ten Years Earlier
My little sisterrifled through my closet and pulled out a bright red sundress. It was new and still had the tags on it.
“Ooh, this is nice. You should wear this to the Labor Day picnic,” she said, holding it up to me.
“Steph, I can’t. I leave on Friday.”
She glanced at me again, her expression fading from excitement to sadness.
“Right. I forgot. Sorry.”
And then she got thatlook. The one that everyone in my family, everyone at my job, and everyone in town gave me when they were reminded that I was going into the military. I had just gotten my plane ticket to South Carolina and had boot camp at Fort Jackson to look forward to. I was proud of my decision. But still, everyone looked at me with a cross betweenyou’re so brave and nobleandyou might not make it back alive, you know.
Stephanie brushed a tear off her cheek quickly before I could launch into myit’s going to be fine; I know what I’m doingspeech. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand where the tears and the pained expressions came from. But I was tired of them. I was sick of people acting like I’d told them I was terminally ill or knew I was going to die soon.
Iwasgoing to be fine. I was smart. I was resourceful. I could take orders. And I was really fucking strong. They’d see.
“You should wear it though,” I told her, quickly changing the subject. “It’d look good on you. Keep it, even. I can’t take it with me.”
That put a smile on Stephanie’s face. She loved fashion. She held up the dress against her body and twirled around with it.
My phone dinged with a text message and when I saw who it was, a shiver ran through me. An excited one.
Luke: Hey, are you free tonight?
“Is that Luke?” Steph asked, batting her eyelashes comically. “You’ve gotLuke face.”
“Shut up. That isnota thing.”
It wassoa thing. Fuck, I hated how my face gave me away sometimes.
“What does he want?” she wondered.
“I don’t know.”
“Probably wants to take you for one last milkshake and confess his undying love for you while he still has the chance,” she teased.
“Um,highly, highly doubtful.”
Even if it was something I’d fantasized about a time or two.
“True. Maybe he just wants to tell you that he’s known about the creepy crush you’ve had on him since freshman year.”
I rolled my eyes at my sister. That was mean. But far more likely.
I hated myself for crushing on Luke Kane. He was my best friend. My partner in crime. My “one phone call from jail” person. Not that I was planning on testing that theory any time soon.
But being his best friend meant one thing. Me and Luke? Never going to happen.
Another message came in.
Luke: Can you meet me at the diner in half an hour?
Luke: I really need to talk.
