Page 8 of The Wayward Son

Chapter three

"There's the Skittles I used to know."

Jade slept soundly in Sawyer’s bed. She did change the sheets. He was a guy after all, and there was no telling when he might’ve changed them last. She’d definitely made the right decision coming to Missoula and knocking on his door.

He’d been her savior in middle school and it appeared he didn’t mind saving her again. This time, however, he was saving her from her own stupidity, not from an abusive father. There was no counting the times he came to her rescue in the middle of the night. She’d call him, and twenty minutes later, he and his father would show up outside to take her home with them. Toward the end, the last year or so before the state finally intervened, she’d spent more time at the Three Oaks Ranch than she did at her father’s house.

Jake had appealed to the court to let her stay with them full time until she graduated from high school. But they sided with a relative, Aunt Joy, who felt it was better she get as far away from Richard Emmerson as possible. Joy was Jade’s mother’s sister, and hadn’t been around much since Rita’s death when Jade was eight. Life with her father had gotten progressively worse from that point on.

When Jade got up and went into the living room, she expected Sawyer to be gone. But he was still asleep on the couch. She watched him for a moment and wondered why she let him slip from her life. It was all on her. She was the one who stopped calling him. And after a month of her not returning his calls, he’d stopped trying. She almost wished he hadn’t. Sooner or later, she would’ve given in and answered the phone.

She went into the kitchen and found a can of coffee, then started the coffeemaker. She’d take Sawyer up on his offer and stay here. At least until she figured out what to do with her life. Or until that elusive offer from some exotic hotel came in.

While she was waiting for the coffee to brew, she washed the few dishes in the sink. Besides their soup bowls, there were two other bowls and three small plates. Apparently, Sawyer only did dishes every few days.

When she heard something behind her, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Sawyer.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

He stretched, then yawned loudly. “No. The smell of coffee did.”

“Do you want a cup?”

“No caffeine before a fight.”

She turned off the water and picked up a towel to dry her hands. “Training sucks. No alcohol, no caffeine, no women.

He nodded. “No sugar. No starch.”

“No fun.”

He laughed. “That might be true if I didn’t enjoy the training. But I do. I love working out. I love sparring. I even love running.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You used to hate running.”

“I know.”

“I started running a few years ago.”

“Really?” He took a banana from the counter and sat down at the table. “Like honest to goodness running? Or fake rich college girl running?”

She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across from him. “I’ll be honest. I started in college. But then I discovered I really liked it.”

“Okay, that sounds legit.”

“Are you going running today?”

“I thought I might get a run in before I go to the gym.”

She smiled slyly. “Do you want company?”

He peeled his banana and took a bite as he eyed her for a moment. “I don’t jog. I run. And I generally do five miles.”

“I can do that.”

He squinted at her. “You don’t have anything to run in.”

“Actually, my gym bag is in the car. I have shoes and leggings. I even have a jacket.”

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