Page 58 of His Heart

Sebastian

The driveback to Iowa took two days. Charlie and I traded off driving, and Brooke even took a couple of turns. It went by fast with the three of us. We stopped at a motel for a night and got on the road early the next morning.

We’d been driving for several hours when I got a call from the Phoenix police department. They’d picked up Jared. Turned out he had outstanding warrants in four different counties, plus two prior DUIs. The county prosecutor wouldn’t even have to work very hard to put that guy away.

Brooke spoke with the officer and said she was in the process of moving. He said it wouldn’t be a problem. It was unlikely they’d need her to testify. The other charges Jared was facing were more than enough to get him locked up for a long time, and they had the evidence they needed from her assault. But they’d get in touch if anything changed.

I was just glad to be getting her away from that bastard, whether he went to jail or not. Every mile of pavement that passed beneath the tires made me feel better.

Brooke spent a lot of time staring out the window. I wondered what she was thinking. Was she nervous? Questioning whether she’d made the right decision? Or maybe she was just watching all the wheat and corn fields. She said she’d never seen so much corn before. But that was the Midwest for you.

We rolled into Iowa City late Monday night. Charlie was snoring in the backseat when I pulled into our driveway.

Brooke glanced over her shoulder, then looked at me. The corners of her mouth turned up.

Holy shit. She smiled.

I grinned at her. “He’s a loud sleeper. I feel sorry for his future wife.”

We got out of the car and Charlie stumbled out behind us. I grabbed my bag—Brooke had hers—and led her inside.

Charlie and I lived in an old house his grandparents owned not far from the university. It was two stories with a covered porch and wood floors that creaked, especially when the weather was changing. A huge maple tree in the front yard dumped leaves all over everything in the fall.

Brooke hesitated in the front room, holding her bag on her shoulder.

“We have an extra bedroom upstairs,” I said. “There’s not much in there, but it has a bed. No one’s used it in a while.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I can sleep wherever, so that’s great.”

Charlie hoisted his bag over his shoulder and headed for the stairs. “I’m going to bed.” He paused and glanced at Brooke. “Don’t murder us in our sleep or anything, okay?”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” she said.

Charlie trudged up the stairs and we followed. I showed Brooke to the extra room and made sure she had everything she needed. She assured me she was fine, so I left her to it and went to my room.

Although it was late, I sent a text to my mom, letting her know I was home. I wasn’t sure how I was going to explain Brooke. How do you tell your parents you had brought home the girl who’d been engaged to your organ donor? That was going to be an interesting conversation.

I was well aware of how crazy this was. I could have called Mrs. Harper. Even though Brooke hadn’t wanted me to, they would have helped her. I could have left her with people who clearly cared about her, and gone home.

There were so many reasons I should have done just that, not the least of which was the fact that she’d been engaged to Liam Harper. Plus, she clearly had problems. I didn’t know if she was a drug addict or alcoholic. Whether the guy who’d beat her up was some psycho who’d come looking for her if he got out of jail. She’d said she’d been staying with him temporarily, but why? And she’d left town on almost a moment’s notice. She’d borrowed my phone to make a couple of calls before we’d left—one had been to the lady from the diner—but that was it. What kind of person could just take off? What did that say about her?

I’d thought about all those things before I’d asked her to come with me. I’d thought about them again, over and over, on the long drive. And even though they were all true, I still didn’t regret bringing her here.

That part, I couldn’t explain. Just like I couldn’t explain how I’d known it was her when I saw her for the first time. Or why I’d insisted on giving her my number.

What I did know was how I felt when I looked at her. I wanted her here. I couldn’t walk away.

Which was, of course, fucking insane. But I guess I’d decided to embrace the insanity. I’d told her I was in, and that was the truth.

It was good to be home and back in my own bed, so I put aside my worries for the night and went to sleep.

The next morning, I came downstairs to find Brooke in the kitchen, cooking. Her hair was up, looking a little messy and careless, and she was dressed in a sleeveless crocheted sweater over a white tank top. Her shorts showed off her legs, and her feet were bare.

I really needed to stop looking at her legs.

“Hi,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind me using your kitchen, but I thought you might want breakfast. You guys have a waffle iron, and I make pretty good waffles.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You definitely know the way to Charlie’s heart.”

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