Dylan didn’t die, but my courage did. I stopped visiting the worksite and hadn’t seen him except in passing for months. I still dreamed of dating Dylan. Until two days earlier, when I realized I’d waited too long and lost my chance.
Staring out at our backyard, I could only think of Dylan hugging a pretty redhead. The girl was curvy in a way I wasn’t. She smiled easily like I never did and hugged him as if touching was no big deal for her. They actually looked good together. Him tall and powerful, her small and delicate. She was what Dylan deserved. Yet I couldn’t believe I lost my chance. I’d been so sure he was mine because he said he’d wait.
Weeks earlier, Nick Davies’s loser dad came to Ellsberg and forced me to help him find his boy. Saying no to men was always difficult. My little brother Jace even bossed me around.
After I led Doyle Davies to New Hampton College, he fought with Nick then Dylan. Watching them fight, I was overwhelmed with fear and guilt. When a weapon dropped near my feet, I grabbed the knife and planned to hurt anyone who touched me. The police arrived, but I refused to give up the blade. Despite my fear of men, I said no. Besides, the police never helped me all those years when I was a slave to Sugar Bum and his friends. I refused to give up my weapon. Nearly dying to protect Harlow and me, Dylan could be trusted. When he asked for the weapon, I gave it to him.
Afterwards, he drove me home and I wished to explain what he meant to me. I couldn’t find the words.
“Did they hurt you?” Dylan asked on the ride to my house.
Unable to find my voice, I shook my head.
“People like that need to be wiped off the face of the earth,” he growled.
Once we parked in front of my house, Dylan finally looked at me. I forced myself to hold his gaze.
“You know, don’t you?” he whispered. “That’s why you gave me the knife.”
My heart soared at how he understood. When I nodded, Dylan’s dark eyes studied me.
“I’ll wait,” he said then added, “I have no choice because I can’t go anywhere else. Only you will do.”
I wanted to say something reassuring to Dylan. He was always in my thoughts and I needed him to know what he meant to me. The words felt all wrong in my head, so I only thanked him for the ride.
When I slid out of the truck, Dylan took me by the wrist. His calloused hands were soft against my skin.
“Do you want me to wait?” he asked.
My lips remained glued together, but I nodded. Dylan’s hard and angry expression eased. I even saw a little smile on his face when I glanced back before disappearing into the house.
Dylan said he would wait. He meant it too. Yet I took too long to get over my issues and he found someone else.
After seeing Dylan with the redhead, I sunk deeper into a depression. Even working at Lark’s house did nothing to distract me. I simply went through the motions. Fortunately, Lark was especially tired and slept most of the day, so she never noticed my bad mood.
Harlow wasn’t as oblivious as we washed dishes after dinner.
“What’s up, stinky pup?”
I rolled my eyes at her nickname for me. “Nothing.”
“She doesn’t want to deal with the leaves,” Jace said from behind us. Our ten year old brother crossed his arms like Dad often did when suspicious. “See, she got spooked last night and bailed on raking the leaves. They ended up blowing around the yard and now she’s trying to get out of raking them again.”
“That’s not it.”
“Sure, it is,” he said, his dark hair covering his narrowed eyes. “What else could it be?”
Grumpy, I decided to punish him. “It’s about a sexy guy.”
Jace’s face twisted into horror. “Eww!” he cried, running out of the room.
Harlow and I laughed at the sound of him telling on me to Mom.
“In a few years, girls will be all he thinks about,” I said, returning to the dishes.
Harlow leaned her head against my shoulder. “Sexy guy, huh?”
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your fight?”
Harlow glanced at the clock. “Yeah. When I get back, I want to hear about the sexy guy making you sigh so much.”
As my sister dressed to go, I finished the dishes and struggled to stop sighing. I was still grumpy when Dad got home. In this living room, he told Harlow to be careful. She said something and laughed.
When Harlow started fighting at the Thunderdome, she called herself Joy and hid it from our parents. She didn’t think they’d approve and she was right. Harlow and I were na?ve to assume they wouldn’t find out long before she told them the truth though.
Dad might be a pastor, but he learned about the Lord in prison. As a member of the Reapers, Dad had eyes and ears all over Ellsberg. He likely knew Harlow was fighting before she threw her first punch.
Entering the kitchen, Dad smiled at me. “Stop talking about cute boys around your brother. He has a sensitive gag reflex.”
I laughed as he got himself a beer and joined me at the sink. “Mom said we have leftovers. Mind warming them up for me?”
Shaking my head, I filled a plate and set it in the microwave.
“Are you okay?” Dad asked, frowning at me. “You look worn down.”
“I had a long day.”