Page 67 of Hero Mine

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, acutely aware they were being watched by half the town. But for once, the stares didn’t matter.

“For the record,” he murmured against her skin, “you’re mine too.”

Her smile was worth every second he’d spent wrangling therapy goats, worth every minute he’d waited for her to be ready.

As they turned back to the petting zoo, Bear noticed the miniature goat had somehow managed to chew through part of its leash while he was distracted.

“That’s it,” he muttered. “I’m trading you in for a rabbit.”

Joy laughed, the sound bright and genuine, and Bear couldn’t help but join her. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right in his world.

Chapter19

The next day, the key to Joy’s house felt foreign in her hand, its weight heavier than it should be.

Today was the day. She was done hiding. Done allowing herself to be forced out of her own home. It was just walls and wood and furniture. It wasn’t alive. It wasn’t waiting to swallow her whole.

So why did she feel like she was standing at the edge of a cliff?

Her breath hitched as she slid the key into the lock. The knob turned too easily, like it wasn’t the barrier she’d built it up to be. The door swung open, revealing the darkened space beyond.

Silence.

No shadows moving in the corner of her eye. No footsteps but her own. No distant echoes of fists slamming into her body, of cruel laughter in the night. But the ghosts were still there.

Along with all the piles of stuff she’d left everywhere.

The kitchen table was exactly as she’d left it—chairs askew, one tipped over from when she had fought back. The broken plaster in the wall by the staircase was still there, a physical reminder of the moment her body had hit the wall, pain exploding through her ribs.

She swallowed, her throat tight.

It’s just a house. Just a house.

Her footsteps felt too loud as she stepped inside, the door whispering shut behind her.

Her breath shuddered, but she didn’t turn back. Not this time.

Yesterday’s Jackalope Fair and Cassie’s attempt to hit on Bear once again had only furthered Joy’s determination to get her house back into livable shape. If she didn’t, she was going to lose Bear.

But more importantly, she was going to lose herself.

She didn’t have to get everything perfect today. And hell, she didn’t even have to move back in to the house if she wasn’t ready. But she could no longer allow it to just stay this way—in shambles, pieces, trashed.

She exhaled slowly, planting her hands on her hips as she surveyed the mess.

The kitchen was the worst. Dirty dishes were still piled in the sink, the remains of a life she had abandoned almost instantly after the attack. The trash can overflowed, the sour scent of forgotten food clinging to the air. The table—the one she had laughed around, eaten around, lived around nearly her whole life—was covered in unopened mail, a casserole dish from Mrs. Fuller she still hadn’t returned, and a fine layer of dust.

She blew out a breath. All right. One thing at a time.

She had planned for this. Had prepped herself for it. Bear was in Reddington City today, picking up parts for the garage, which meant she wouldn’t have his steady presence hovering over her, waiting to catch her if she faltered.

That was the whole point. She had to do this alone.

Grabbing the garbage bag, she forced herself to move. If she stopped, if she let herself think too hard, she’d never get started. The first plate hit the soapy water with a splash. Then another. Then another. She scrubbed hard, her hands aching with the effort, with the need to erase what had happened here.

She wiped down the counters. Swept the floor. Hauled some trash outside.

But every time she turned around, she saw something else. A window smudged with her handprint. The coffee table she had clutched for balance as she’d tried to find her phone to call for help, fingers slipping as pain had radiated through her body.

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