Page 72 of The Version You Hide

My brows pinch as I search for meaning behind her words. I want to know what has happened to her. What has changed since the kiss we shared on the boat?

But it isn’t safe here.

“Come on,” I say. “Let’s get you somewhere dry.”

I lead her to my car through the onslaught of rain. This time, when I open the passenger door for her, she doesn’t fight me with some silly remark. Instead, she slumps into the seat, pulling her knees up to her chest and tucking her head down in between them.

This is definitely not the Mackenzie that I’ve come to know and seeing this version of her has me rattled. It’s incredibly out of character for her to show emotion like this. To admit vulnerability.

I tug my phone out of my pocket and pull up Jesse’s contact as I race around to the driver’s door. He answers on the second ring. “Hey, bro.”

“Jesse, hey. Is there any way you are free right now and can do me the hugest favour?”

“You need me at the tavern?”

I raise the volume of my voice to compete with the pouring rain. “Yeah. Look, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t crazy important, but I need you to start earlier. Like, now. If you can. I don’t think I’m going to make it in there tonight.”

“Sure. Everything okay?”

“I’m not sure,” I say, as I pull open the door. “But I’m going to find out.”

I end the call as I slide into the car. The windows quickly fog up with our body heat, the driving rain still blurring the occasional oncoming headlights.

“Kenz,” I say gently. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

I watch as her chest rises with an unsteady breath, but she doesn’t answer my question. Her stare is directed at the dashboard, her arms still wrapped around her knees.

“Kenz, I’m worried. Is it Kristen? Is everyone okay?”

I don’t miss the slight crease between her brows before she turns her cold, blue gaze on me. Even with bloodshot eyes and blotchy cheeks, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

“It’s not like that,” she whispers. “Everyone is fine. Do you think you could just drive?”

She squeezes her eyes shut and a tear runs from each corner and even though I have no idea what has caused them, I feel her sorrow like a punch to the gut. I understand that she isn’t ready to talk about whatever has her upset and I can respect that.

“Okay. Is Kristen or Henley home?” I reach across her to retrieve her seatbelt and click it into place around her shivering body.

The quick shake of her head that follows is so slight I could have missed it. Then she’s resting her chin on her knees again. There’s no way I’m taking her back to an empty house in this state. I can’t bear the thought of leaving her alone right now.

Within two minutes we’re pulling into the tiny driveway out the front of my beach shack. I round the car, opening Mackenzie’s door and carefully helping her to her feet. She’s trembling profusely now, the cold rain having soaked her skin. “Come on. Let’s get you dry.”

There’s no sign of Chance on the porch as I lead Mackenzie up the weather-beaten steps, but I’ll have to deal with him later. He’s a smart dog and knowing him, he’s found refuge underneath the house somewhere.

I guide her through the front door and straight down the hall to the bathroom. Her own arms are wrapped around her waist, the water from her jeans pooling at our feet. Her tears seem to have run out, but she still hasn’t spoken another word and I’m rendered utterly helpless. I need to know what I can do to make things better for her.

I lean down, pressing my lips to her cold, clammy forehead. “I’ll get you some towels.”

I duck into the hall, retrieving the nicest bath towels I own from the linen closet and place them near the bathroom sink. She hasn’t moved, her teeth chattering as she stares down at the porcelain tiles. I go to her, wrapping my arms around her again, rubbing at the goosebumps on her arms. I’m not sure how much it does for her though, given that I’m soaked through as well.

“You’re freezing, Kenz. We need to get you warm.” I pull the shower curtain aside and reach an arm out to turn on the hot water, adjusting the faucet until the temperature is right.

She begins unbuttoning her jeans and my heart races as they drop to the floor. She seems dazed, completely disconnected. I still have no idea what has gotten her so upset but watching

her battle this inner turmoil breaks me.

I can’t resist drawing her near to me one last time before I leave the room. My fingers slide up her neck until I’m cupping her face in my hands. “I’m going to get you some dry clothes, okay?”

The subtlest of nods is the only sign that she has heard me. I leave the door ajar as I sprint to my room and rummage through my drawers in search of something suitable. Whatever I choose is going to be way too big for her, but I settle on a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt with the logo of the local surf shop on it.

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