Page 29 of One Merciful Moment

"I think you can be with me."

"Not out there." He shook his head. "Out there, I'll feel everything. Drugs will be at my disposal, and I'll break."

Ashley stepped closer again, refusing to let him retreat. "You're not broken."

He laughed harshly. "I'm barely holding myself together."

She grabbed his hand, and this time he didn't pull away. "I didn't ask you to leave Everstill because I think you're fixed. I asked because I care about you. Because I want you with me."

His gaze softened for a beat before he sniffed and shut himself off again. "Wanting you doesn't change what I am."

She squeezed his hand. "You're not just an addict. You're a man who's trying. A man who's learning to be better than his past. You're choosing to stay clean, and that tells me everything I need to know about you."

His breath trembled.

"The only thing I want from you is you. I want you to talk to me. Trust me. Let me in." She stood directly in front of him. "You're the only one I have here, and I'm not leaving without you."

"Don't say that."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know how to hear it," he said, barely audible.

Ashley's heart broke, not from pain, but from the sheer vulnerability in his voice. He was a strong man. Stronger than he believed. Rough around the edges. Lacking social graces. Quick to temper. Almost selfish in what he wanted.

But he cared about her. Almost too much. He was possessive, but she loved that about him. While Everstill was almost a prison for him, he cared about the environment and the people who lived there.

He wasn't a lost cause.

He needed love, and she could give it to him.

She cupped his face gently. "Then we'll figure it out together."

He didn't agree, but he didn't pull away.

"Was your drug use the reason you came to Everstill? Because you wanted to quit?" she asked.

He scoffed. "I don't know how the hell I found Everstill, but it wasn't because I wanted to quit."

She had a hundred questions for him, but she'd pushed him enough.

Chapter 17

Boone

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The mower sputtered once before catching, the blades whirring to life as Boone pushed it across the patch of grass in front of the courthouse. It was mindless work. Straight lines. Predictable motion. Nothing to think about except keeping the rows even.

Keeping busy was the only way he stayed calm.

The clouds brightened unnaturally, then dimmed, as if someone were flicking a light switch behind him. He froze mid-stride, the mower vibrating under his hands.

The sky flashed again.

It wasn't lightning or a storm, but the mute sky never changed unless the veil was opening.

His stomach dropped.