Page 55 of Into the Light

I could barely say the next sentence, but I swallowed, managing to get the words out. “He sent me a text message that never went through saying he loved me.”

“Can you turn around?” I asked.

He slowly moved me so that his chest was pressed against mine.

“I didn’t realize you felt that way about me,” I whispered. “I didn’t realize you felt that way about all of this.” I gestured around the little cabin, remembering his confession about how he wanted to live in the tranquility out in the countryside.

“I hate this. I hated watching how it untangled the one person I loved, Ember. Because I loved him, too.” He stared at the photo in my hand.

“Can I take this with me? I have an IT guy who works for me, not the Cartel. He can see if there are any other pieces I can untangle.” I handed it over to him.

“Did you send yourself what you needed from it?”

“Yes.” I’d sent screenshots and voice recordings that Ash left me and that I’d left him, too.

“Are you okay? Finding this?” Rain paused and laughed for a second. “I can’t believe you actually found it and it works. Pretty fucking wild with all the weather all this time.”

“I understand,” I replied, sharing a chuckle of disbelief. “Rain, I need you to stay on the topic.”

“About what, Ember?” He took my hand and led me to one of the cozy reading chairs in the corner. Then he headed to the kitchenette and retrieved two pineapple-flavored seltzers from the small fridge.

“You like these?” I asked.

“No.” He shrugged and settled into the chair beside me. “But you do.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, recognizing that we needed to address the looming feelings between us. Rain always seemed to provide the answers I required, so his avoidance of the topic was telling.

“We really need to have this conversation,” I insisted. “We can’t keep avoiding it like we have been.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Ember, I just don’t know where to begin. It’s . . . complicated.” He ran his hand through his hair before he popped the top of his seltzer and took a long pull.

“I want to get to know you. Aside from your love of books, what makes Rain . . . well, Rain?”

He smiled, then paused, the corners of his mouth twisting into a frown. “I don’t know, and I think that’s the problem with everything. I have spent most of my childhood and then my adult life living for Ash and making sure he was protected and at peace at home and loved. That his death has ripped a hole through the atmosphere. I don’t know how to fill it.”

I leaped out of the chair and slid onto his lap onto the chair he was now sitting, across from me. His hands pressed firmly on the curves of my hips, and our bodies melded together like we always belonged to each other—like it was the perfect puzzle piece fit.

“Start with something small,” I murmured, reaching up to play with the soft stubble growing on his chin. “Like, what is your favorite color?” I murmured.

“Why are you like this?” he asked quietly.

“Like what?”

“So . . . caring? Why does it matter to you so much, anyway? You’ll always be in love with him.”

The pang in my chest grew to a degree so insurmountable I didn’t have the words to say.

“I think that’s what I learned this last month though,” I murmured right into the shell of his ear. “I loved Ash. I will always love him, but I think there is space in my heart to move forward with the life I am living now.”

I dropped my voice even lower and then pulled away so that my hand was still on his face, and our eyes locked.

“I cannot imagine my days without you in them either, Rain. Even after all of this goes down, I don’t want to lose you,” I said, biting my lip. “But I want to figure out what happened that night. It’s important to me.”

“So do I.”

“And I don’t want to rush or label whatever this is right now. I don’t think I’m ready for that because that would mean involving the others, the initiation—”

“No,” he growled. “That will never be a thing between us.” Rain pulled my waist tighter to him.

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