Page 79 of Beat of Love
Brandy-Lyn’s hands moved down, fingers clutching at his shirt. “I know.”
His eyes searched hers. “I want to do this right, Red. Not as the messed-up version of me. The real one. The man who’s whole.”
Her palm pressed over his heart. “This part of you feels pretty real to me.”
He kissed her again. Softer this time. Reverent.
Then he eased back, hands lingering at her waist like letting go physically might undo him completely.
“I need to finish what I’ve started,” he said. “And I’m gonna keep my distance, Red, because I have no willpower when it comes to you. But I will be back.”
Her smile was unsteady, her lips swollen. “I’m holding you to that, Rafferty Lawson.”
21
Connections
The sense of dread that had taken root in his gut earlier that day lingered through dinner. Rafferty only picked at his food, eventually pushing the plate away in silent surrender. “Sorry, Ma. Just not hungry, I guess.”
And of course, the concern in her eyes only sharpened his unease. How long until his mom stopped looking at him like he was one misstep away from falling back into the wreckage of his addiction? He looked past his mother’s shoulder, out into the dark, searching for the source of his unease.
They had not seen each other since that kiss in her kitchen. It wasn’t that he was going out of his way to avoid her. It’s just that his workload was heavy, sometimes necessitating a sleepover at a line cabin. That he volunteered for the away jobs was beside the point.
But somehow, his mind always came back to her. She was out with the kids tonight, at playoff game in a neighboring town. He knew because Preston had asked if he wanted to come. He’d said no, hating himself for the flicker of disappointment on the kid’s face. But keeping his distance from Brandy-Lyn was necessary. When he was near her, his resolve crumbled. It just stung that her kids got caught in the fallout, too.
The clatter of silverware focused his attention on the activity around him, and he scraped his chair back, and helped clear the table.
Midway to the sink, he cried out — a jolt of shock and fear crashing over him like a wave. He lurched sideways, the pan slipping from his hands and clattering to the floor.
Bright lights cleaved the darkness ahead.
Startled cries filled his head.
Pain stabbed through his skull like a blade.
A guttural cry tore from his throat.
He dropped to his knees, breath ragged.
And then nothing.
Just … a black void.
“Raffie?”
His breath came in shallow, uneven bursts. Sweat slicked his brow. The fallen pan lay beside him, a smear of gravy spreading slowly across the linoleum.
“You okay?” Ma peered at him, her eyes darting over his features. “What happened?”
“Just …” He trailed off, shook his head. “Nothing. It was nothing.”
Something happened to Brandy-Lyn.
But he willed away the troublesome thought. It’s not like he wasconnectedto Brandy-Lyn the way he was with his twin.
He grabbed the pan and pushed to his feet.
“You sure you’re okay?” Ma pried the pan from his trembling hands.
