Page 27 of July 27

For the next eighteen years, he had a fucking lot of time to think about how differently his life would've turned out if his dad would've accepted that call. From that day on, he promised himself he'd never go back.

Cora could keep all the money she inherited from his folks after they died. He'd never take a penny from them.

Chapter Fourteen

Rachel pressed her back against the cottage's front door and inhaled deeply. One. Two. Three.

Her body locked up, frozen in place, unable to move.

She banged the back of her head against the door in frustration. All week long, she'd tried to step outside the house while Ruger was gone to prove she was strong enough, and every time, she chickened out.

Since the kidnapping, she'd turned into someone she no longer recognized. She hated how her days were filled with fear.

Loud noises made her jump.

The sight of blood made her sick.

The darkness brought nightmares.

The unknown left her vulnerable.

As much as she wanted the old her back, she dreaded her life, returning to how she lived when her brother was out of prison. She was safe with Ruger.

Every day. Every night. Being around him filled her with a growing desire that made it hard to stand still. She wanted to move, talk, and get to know him better, deeper, and without restraint.

That new craving had her standing at the door all week long, attempting to go outside by herself to prove that nothing bad would happen. In her head, she knew that she was safe at the cottage. But her body thought otherwise and refused to move.

The idea of having her power and freedom stolen from her by the men who kidnapped her infuriated her. She wanted to achieve her dreams and adjust to the real world.

Knight jumped off the arm of the couch, looked at her, and pounced into the kitchen without a worry in the world. Ruger had given the kitten a safe place to live, too.

"Okay, okay," she whispered. "I can do this. I have to do this."

On the count of five, she'd do it. That gave her more time to gain the courage to open the door.

One—her legs trembled.

Two—tears slipped through her lashes.

Three—she panted, struggling for air.

Four—dots entered her vision.

Five—she screamed.

All the anger, fear, and adrenaline burst out of her. In a rage, she pushed off the door, scrambling to turn the doorknob, and stumbled outside. Her chest wheezed in the briny air. She fell against the porch rail, hugging the wooden post.

The salt in the air coated her tongue and filled her nostrils. She compulsively nodded, reassuring herself that she'd done it. She'd come outside by herself.

Giddiness bubbled inside of her. She pressed her palm to her racing heart. Every muscle in her body weakened, leaving her loose and free.

She looked around. Her inability to appropriately react to something so big left her wanting to share the moment, but Ruger wasn't home.

Collapsing to her knees, she rocked back and forth as the sobs she'd held in for too long escaped. She let her head fall back, looking up into the cloud-filled sky.

Her chest expanded. Her heart thrummed.

She was alive. Shady was in prison, safe from the evil men. Despite the gravity of the situation, hope pushed to the surface that they'd be okay.

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