Page 27 of Beckett
Truth, but not all of it. I let it go. Push too hard and she’d bolt like a spooked deer.
Chaos had progressed from attacking Jet’s ear to climbing onto his head. The dog’s eyes crossed trying to look up at his tiny attacker.
“Should we rescue him?” Audra asked.
“Jet or Chaos?”
That surprised another laugh out of her. “Good question.”
She reached out tentatively toward the animals, then stopped. Started to pull back. I caught the hesitation, the war between wanting connection and fearing it.
“Here.” I scooped up Chaos, ignoring his protests. “Want to try holding him again? He’s in a better mood now.”
“I don’t think?—”
“Trust me.”
The words hung between us, heavier than I’d intended. Trust. Such a simple concept that became impossibly complex when life had taught you everyone would eventually let you down.
But she held out her hands.
I transferred Chaos carefully, making sure she had a good grip before letting go. The kitten tensed, ready to launch into another hissing fit. Audra stayed perfectly still, not trying to pet him, just holding him steady against her chest.
“Hey, little warrior,” she murmured. “I know. Everything’s scary and nothing makes sense and you just want to fight the whole world. I get it.”
Something in her voice—that keen understanding—made Chaos pause. He sniffed her shirt suspiciously.
“But maybe,” she continued, “just maybe, not everyone’s out to hurt you. Maybe some people just want to help, even if you’re too scared to let them.”
She wasn’t talking to the kitten anymore. Not really.
Chaos, in that miraculous way of animals, seemed to understand. He relaxed incrementally, still wary but no longer actively hostile. When Audra slowly stroked his head, he allowed it.
“Look at that,” I said softly. “He likes you.”
“He tolerates me.” But she was smiling, a real smile that transformed her whole face. “That’s progress, right?”
“With Chaos? That’s a miracle.”
Jet, apparently jealous of the attention, nudged my hand with his wet nose. I scratched behind his ears absently, watching Audra with the kitten. Something had shifted in the last few minutes. The stories about Todd had cracked open a door she’d been holding desperately shut.
She was still running. Still scared. Still carrying secrets that were eating her alive. But for right now, in this moment, she was just a woman holding a kitten and remembering how to smile.
And then the moment was gone.
“I should probably—” She started to hand Chaos back, already rebuilding those walls.
That was when it happened. Moving to pass the kitten between us, she stepped on Jet’s rope toy, throwing her off-balance. I reached out instinctively, catching her elbow, steadying her before she could fall.
Time stopped.
We were close. Close enough that I could see the gold flecks in her eyes catch the afternoon sun. Close enough to feel her pulse hammering under my fingers where they wrapped around her arm. Close enough that her breath ghosted across my jaw.
Chaos meowed indignantly, trapped between us, but neither of us moved.
Her lips parted slightly. My gaze dropped to them without permission, cataloging their shape, the way the bottom one was slightly fuller than the top. When I looked back up, her eyes had darkened, pupils dilated with something that wasn’t fear.
Chemistry. Attraction. Whatever you wanted to call the electricity arcing between us, making the air feel charged and thick. I hadn’t felt anything like it in years. Hadn’t wanted to feel it because feeling meant caring, and caring meant eventually failing someone who mattered.
