Page 76 of Beat of Love
He gripped the horseshoe hanging from his neck.
A lifeline.
A reminder of why he was here. In this fucking office. Talking to a stranger.
Baring his fucking soul.
Because beyond the danger stalking his heels, the greater threat came from the darkness inside him. Kamila was out of his hands. For now. But facing the ghosts inside him?Thatwas something he could fix.
Trent studied him for a beat. “What do you need from me. From this process?”
He didn’t answer right away.
Tension ticked through his body as he stared at the floor, searching for words that wouldn’t sound like bullshit or weakness. This wasn’t about pride anymore. It was about survival. About becoming the man he wanted to be — not the broken one hauled out of the jungle.
“I want to stop flinching at shadows,” he said at last, voice low and rough. “I want to stop waiting for the jungle to follow me home.”
He lifted his eyes to Trent, not hiding anymore. “I want to be someone who deserves a woman like …” His voice faltered for half a second. “Like Brandy-Lyn.”
Trent didn’t move. Didn’t interrupt.
Just held the silence open like a door.
Rafferty stepped through it.
“I want Brandy-Lyn in my life. I want to build something with her — real, solid. I want to wake up beside her every morning and kiss her goodnight each night. I want to be there when Amelia gets picked up for her prom. I want to scare the shit out of Livvie’s first boyfriend. I want Preston to come to me whenhe needs guy stuff — razors, advice, condoms, whatever. I want to be there for the boring stuff. The breakfast-making, the bad movie nights, even theFast and Furiousflick filmed in Brazil.”
His voice broke slightly on the last word, but he powered through. “I want a life that isn’t just about surviving. I want to live, Doc. Really live. Without feeling like I’m one breath away from cracking open.”
Trent gave a single, measured nod. His voice stayed even. “Then that’s where we start.”
20
Seeing someone
Rafferty lingered just beyond view, watching as the kids laughed and jostled one another, water sloshing from overfilled buckets. The sun was out, unseasonably warm — a last hurrah before winter set in — and the morning light draped the scene in an inviting golden haze.
His chest tightened. He wanted to walk in, grab a sponge, maybe flick soap at Preston just to hear him squawk.
He wanted to belong to that moment.
To them.
But he couldn’t.
Not yet.
He’d promised himself that he’d stay away until he’d done the work.
Until he dealt with the shadows in his life, his past would keep looming — threatening retaliation. Threatening his sanity. His sobriety. The people he loved.
But watching them now, sunlight bouncing off windshields and bare hands red from cold water, he knew staying away might be the hardest part of all.
They were bundled in mismatched hoodies and jackets, soaked from the waist down. Olivia stood on tiptoe to rinse the Yukon’s roof with the hose while Preston ducked for cover, nearly slipping on the gravel.
“You trying to drown me, psycho?” he yelled, shaking water off his hoodie.
“I’m doing you a favor. You smell,” Olivia shot back.
