Page 105 of Danger

What the fuck.

My steps falter.

I stare at her like if I look long enough, she’ll disappear.

For a second, my brain refuses to make sense of what I’m seeing.

Rylee. Coming out of Danger’s house. The walk of shame—but she doesn’t look ashamed. She looks satisfied.

My chest tightens, a lump forms in my throat, and I know—before my heart can catch up—that I’m already too late.

She keeps walking to her car—unhurried, wearing his sweatshirt like some badge of honor, like whatever happened last night didn’t wreck anyone’s world but mine.

So, that’s why I didn’t hear from him last night.

She spots me, and no one else is around. No Danger. No explanation. Just her, wearing proof, walking away with him still on her—a man I didn’t think belonged to her anymore—and the unmistakable look of someone who got everything she ever wanted.

Rylee smiles.

It’s small.Evil.

“Long night,” she says lightly, like we’re just talking about the weather and not the fact that my chest feels like it’s caving in. She tugs the sweatshirt tighter around herself, eyes flicking past me toward the house. “Guess history always has a way of repeating itself.”

Then she turns, climbs into her car, and drives away—leaving me standing there with a thousand unanswered questions and the truth I don’t want to believe.

I told myself he couldn’t hurt me. Said there wasn’t a single, solitary cowboy on this godforsaken stretch of earth that could work his way under my skin after Trouble. Now look at me. Standing here all pathetic in his driveway after finishing morning feed, sunglasses on, ballcap jammed low, doing everything I can not to fall apart.

I force my lungs to work.

I knew what this was. I knew about Danger’s reputation—he never pretends to be anything but what he is. He even warned me. Told me in that low, ruinous voice. Which is why it feels beyond pathetic the way I have to bite my tongue to keep from banging on his door right now, demanding to know if it was better with her. If he said the same things to her that he did the other night.

I knew there was no future here. That didn’t stop me from wanting it anyway.

I slide into my car and slam the door, hands shaking so badly it takes me three tries to get the key into the ignition. I tell myself not to cry. Don’t do it here. Don’t give them that power.

The engine turns over. Then Danger’s front door opens.

Of course it does.

I don’t move. I can’t. My throat locks up, my pulse roaring so loud it feels like it might drown everything else out.

I know the sound of his steps without looking. He raps his knuckles once against my window.

“Winnie.”

I stare straight ahead.

“Talk to me,” he says, softer now. “What’s wrong?”

I laugh—one short, broken sound. I finally turn my head and meet his eyes through the glass.

“I saw her,” I say.

Something flickers across his face. Understanding, maybe.

“Rylee,” I add, because I hate myself a little for needing him to know. “Tell me nothing happened.”

Silence stretches. He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t rush to explain. Meanwhile, my heart is splitting in two.