I’d been eighteen years old and scared, because in three short months, one sixteen-year-old girl had become my sole concern in life. Bethy had stolen my heart the summer I met her at Rush’s party. When I’d been ready to throw away the life I’d been planning for the past year in order to be with her, my father had reminded me of just how much control he had over me.
I wouldn’t have been able to keep Bethy if I’d stayed. That wasn’t the life he’d let me have. So I’d run, hoping that when I came back in two years, when she was old enough, I could take her with me. But first, I’d needed to escape.
I watched as Bethy opened the door to her old beat-up Ford Taurus and climbed inside. The stiff way she held herself and the way she kept her focus turned away from me told me she knew I was here. She expected me to be here.
Once she would have broken into the biggest, most beautiful smile in the world and run into my arms. But that was the past. I had broken that. I had broken her, and I hadn’t even known.
I started my bike and rumbled out onto the road, giving Bethy enough space as I followed her home. She rarely went anywhere else now. Some days she’d go to Grant and Harlow’s to visit with them and their baby girl. Other days she would go to Blaire and Rush’s. But other than those rare times, she just went home.
Her home was another thing that was eating me alive. I hated it. I hated leaving her at night to sleep in an apartment fifteen miles outside of town with questionable neighbors. She’d had a nice condo on the club’s property, completely paid for, but after Jace’s death, she moved out. Blaire said she needed to get away from the memories, that the beach was too painful for her.
But God, I hated it. Bethy deserved more than this life. The young girl with those big, soft brown eyes, so trusting and innocent, haunted me. Because of me, that girl was gone. I’d destroyed that trust and innocence.
Bethy’s car turned into the service station just inside the town limits. She didn’t need to get gasoline. I knew that because I knew the days she needed to fill up. She’d done so two days ago. She still had several more days before she needed more. I parked across the road and watched her.
I watched her park her car and get out. She gripped the door as she turned and glared in my direction before she slammed the door. At least she looked at me this time. I expected her to go back to ignoring me and go inside, but she didn’t.
She kept her angry gaze locked on me as she stalked across the parking lot and headed my way. Oh, shit. She was pissed, and there was no one around to calm her the hell down when she went off on me. Maybe this was a good thing. The last time she went off on me, Grant and Woods had held her back and taken her home. Whenever I spoke, she’d just scream louder. Hearing my voice was enough to infuriate her.
I hadn’t understood the contempt she’d hidden from Jace and only shown me when no one was looking . . . until that day on the beach. The memory of her words sliced through me, and I winced. That was always going to fucking haunt me. I’d never get over it.
I climbed off my bike and waited for whatever she planned on throwing at me. She was acknowledging my existence. I would take what I could get.
She stopped in front of me and put her hands on her hips. Even with the weight loss, Bethy still had hips. They were thinner, but they were there. She had fantastic hips. “Stop following me,” she demanded, fury flashing in her eyes. “I don’t need you stalking my ass like a psycho!”
I had to tread carefully with her. I wanted her to talk to me; I didn’t want to piss her off. “I’m just making sure you’re safe,” I replied in the softest tone I could muster.
Bethy let out a frustrated growl. “Don’t! I don’t need you making sure I’m safe. It doesn’t matter if I’m safe. I haven’t been your concern in a very long time.” She was trying to control herself. She wanted to hit me. Scream at me. She wanted to blame someone else for Jace’s death, and I was the easiest person to hate.
“It matters to me that you’re safe,” I said simply.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her hands were clenched tightly in fists as they rested on her hips. “I don’t like seeing you. I don’t like you watching me. I want to be left alone. I’m going to get a restraining order against you, Tripp, I swear to God,” she threatened.
We both knew I had done nothing to her and she wouldn’t be able to get a restraining order. But telling her that would only upset her. “I know you hate me. For a long time, I didn’t know why. But I do now. Hell, Bethy, I hate myself,” I admitted. “That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I’m worried about you, and if you don’t want me near you, I get it. But I’m going to keep you as safe as I can. I’m sorry if that upsets you.”
Bethy let out a hysterical laugh that wasn’t a laugh at all. I loved Bethy’s laugh. The one when she was happy. Hearing her laugh and watching her smile had once owned me. I’d do anything for it. Now it was nothing more than a hollow, hard sound that only added to the pain between us.
“Why did you come back? I was fine. Jace and I were great. I was happy, Tripp. I was so damn happy.” Her voice cracked, and I wanted to reach for her. The hard, angry shell she’d surrounded herself with was cracking. “Seeing you ruined it. Everything! It ruined everything. Then . . . you . . .” she let out a scream and pressed her hands over her eyes. “I tried to make us all work. I tried to like you. I tried to accept that Jace loved you, and I wanted to forget the past. I wanted to forget that summer. I had Jace. Why did you have to remind me? Why did you have to . . .” She swallowed hard. “I was happy. I had thought Jace was my one. Then you came back and screwed it all up. Why?” Her voice was so broken. Tears filled her eyes as she glared at me.
I had come back with the excuse of checking on my friend Della Sloane. I’d met her in Dallas at a restaurant where she was a waitress and I was a bartender. I had sent her here to get a job at the club and live in my condo after she’d slept with our boss, who she hadn’t known was married at the time. I hadn’t lived in the condo since that summer I met Bethy, when my grandfather gave it to me as a graduation present. I had sent Della to the one place I knew she’d be safe. I had been right. She was now engaged to Woods Kerrington and was blissfully happy.
At the time, I told myself I’d come home because I’d heard Jace’s voice on the phone and had missed home. I’d known Jace was with Bethy, and as hard as that was to accept, he was the better man. He was good for her.