Page 18 of Against The Tide

“You should practice in DC—apparently it’s where everyone exchanges favors,” I snap, and he tips his head to the side, looking as though he’s trying to contain his laugh.

“Huh,” Rhett chuckles, looking over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin as he continues mumbling, “Well, I guess he’s going to have to let Pamela go after this.”

“Pamela?”

“Pamela Anderson.”

“That makes so much more sense.” I lie back onto the lounger as he turns to level me with a narrowed stare.

“It’s a thing, you know…”

“Not really. I’m an only child, so sibling things aren’t something I’m all that familiar with.”

“Explains why you’re so stubborn. So adamant on being fine.”

“You don’t get it, do you? You might be a great doctor, but clearly you have no idea what it’s like to lose grasp of your life.” That’s it, I’m done with the conversation. Getting up to my internalized stream of curses, I fist my hands, hoping that it helps get a handle on the physical pain at least. “It’s abundantly clear that you don’t understand what it’s like to lose everything from one moment to the next.”

Rhett turns to look up at me, leveling me with a loaded look that tells me that maybe I’m wrong. Just as my frustration and anger begin to deflate, he stands, we’re not even that close, but his presence is so palpable that it makes the space between us seem like nothing but a sliver. I think that’s what scares me about him even though I know I’m safe. There’s no worry that he’ll hurt me. Still, something about him—beyond his physical height and broad shoulders—hulks over me. It’s inescapable.

Something about this man says he’ll see through all my excuses and fears. It’s like he can see everything, even what I’m desperately trying to hide from everyone around me.

“Suppose I know fuck about anything,” he muses, taking the shortest step toward me. My already racing heart pounds harder, trying to loosen the vise around my chest. “I know enough to see that you’re avoiding dealing with any of your problems. Take it from a pro, Avery—you can ignore everything that’s happened, but it won’t ignore you.”

Anxiety overtakes me at the raw truth of his statement, and the tears that have been swimming in my eyes fall, heavy and weary. My stomach turns, and I’m so sick that I have to forcefully steel myself so that I don’t collapse in a heap at his feet.

“What makes you a pro?”

“What makes you think you’ve lost everything?” Rhett counters without breaking the hold of his stare on me.

I’m trapped by its gentleness, even as he assesses me. There’s no judgment or pity, only a searching pull. A tug that urges me closer, taking every ounce of my strength to resist.

“Do you honestly think you have nothing left?” There’s a gruff edge to his question that makes me pull back.

I put as much distance as I can between us as I walk away, resisting the lure to look back with every knotting coil of my stomach, every reverberating thump of my heart. My insides twist with every step with the knowledge that out of every person in my life right now, Rhett Reynolds could be the most dangerous.

CHAPTER 7

AVERY

The phone rings, cutting through the quiet of the night jarringly. I thought it might be Carl again; he’s been calling during the last couple of nights. The first time I picked up to tell him to stop was also the last. Maybe he’s right and I am a waste, but I know better than to listen to a drunk’s tirade of abuse when I have the power to mute it.

“Kayla?” I get up from bed as quietly as I can, hoping that it won’t stir Iris.

Although I know we’re safe here, I’ve left the bathroom door cracked a little to let the light come through slightly. I’ve never been scared of the dark, but since that night with Carl…I’m finding that I’m scared of a lot of things that I wasn’t before.

“Avery, are you okay?”

“I’m…” I pause to mull the word over. Ever since last night, I keep thinking about what Rhett said. Obviously, I’m aware that I’m not, but it doesn’t stop me from replying, “I’m…fine.”

“I’ve been so worried. I’ve called so many times.”

Letting myself out into the hallway, I walk to the top of the stairs and deliberate on whether to perch there or to go downstairs. It feels odd sitting so close to Callie’s door, so the kitchen wins. Besides, now that I’m awake, I know I’m not going to be able to sleep for a while.

“Where have you gone? Carl is…he’s going insane.”

The fact that she’s bringing him up annoys me, but I’m not stupid enough to think that he wouldn’t contact her. I’m assuming that they’ve probably seen each other or at least spoken because of work.

“God, I’m so worried! Why aren’t you talking to me?”