Dare chuckled at his sister’s cheerful voice filtering from the living room. Served him right for not locking the door, something he was terrible at most of the time. More so because he hated the feeling of being confined, and locking the door signified no way out to him. Now he’d have to deal with his sister, and he wasn’t in the mood. Right now, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling, and that made it iffy to be around him. He’d either be cordial and the happy, loving brother he could be. Or the macho asshole who pretended he didn’t care about anything or anyone, Deja included. The part of his dad that lived inside him.

The only credit he’d give his dad was he had always loved his mom. Those two had been inseparable. Which was nice to think about—except they loved each other so much, they forgot about their kids. Or maybe they didn’t know how to share their love. Maybe having kids was something they did and then decided, eh, we shouldn’t have done that.

In the end, it didn’t matter. They were gone. It was his fault, and there was nothing he could do to change that. If he could change things, he would in a heartbeat. He’d rather have a deadbeat mom and dad around than not at all.

Before Deja could invade his bedroom—and see his empty duffle bag sitting on the bed—he met her in the living room. She’d ask questions about why the duffle bag was out, and he wasn’t prepared to answer them. Or how to answer them. He wasn’t even sure why he pulled the thing out of his closet. He had no plan where to go—yet.

She smiled and threw her head in the direction of the kitchen and didn’t wait to see if he would follow. She assumed he would, and of course, he did. The apple pie she set on the counter smelled divine. He wasn’t in the mood for pie, but he wasn’t going to say no to a piece either.

Deja pulled out a knife and sliced right into it, cutting a large piece. Then she grabbed a plate and fork, scooped the piece onto the plate, and handed it to him.

“So?”

So the pie was either to cheer him up from potential bad news or celebrate the good news. Either way, she was covered. Now he had to fess up which one it was.

He took the pie, forked off a huge piece, and bit into the deliciousness. His sister had come a long way in her baking skills. It helped her husband, Emmett, loved pie—as did his brothers and cousins—so pie was a huge staple in the family. She had to improve her skills quickly if she wanted to impress the McCord men. Not that she was ever about impressing anyone. They either liked her or didn’t; she didn’t care either way. So she said. He was the same way. But deep down inside, he wanted to be liked. He wanted people to see the real him and not turn away, disgusted by what they saw.

“Do you enjoy torturing me? Spit it out already,” Deja said exasperatingly.

He took another bite, savoring the tart flavor before offering a half-smile. “I’m off parole. I’m a free man.”

And I plan to leave town as soon as possible.

Though, he didn’t have the nerve to confess that yet. His sister would hate it. It would crush her. She’d never understand why he had to leave. She’d run down the list of how great it was for him here.

He had a job—thanks to Emmett. Mowed lawns and made a decent wage.

He had a place to live—thanks to Ethan, Emmett’s brother. Low rent that made it easier to save money on the side.

He had friends—thanks to his sister. She married into a good family, who were good to him, even when he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

He had it made in this small town—for a felon.

And he still wanted to leave. He felt trapped for some reason. Hell, he couldn’t even explain it to himself. Trying to explain it to his sister would be an epic failure. She’d end up with hurt feelings, and he’d have Emmett on his doorstep, hollering in his face for upsetting her. And rightly so. Because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt his sister. All he ever did was hurt her.

She stared at him for the longest time before whooping with joy and flinging her arms around him. He managed to hold onto the plate while wrapping an arm around her.

“I had hoped your last meeting would go well…”

Her words trailed off, leaving off what she truly wanted to say. I would’ve gone with you.

When she had asked if she could, and he denied her, he had seen the fight in her eyes. But Deja had come to learn since he’d been released over a year ago that once he made up his mind, it was hard to budge.

He hadn’t anticipated anything going wrong today when he met with his parole officer for the last time. He followed the rules. He didn’t break the law. He stayed away from his old life. He had a steady job and a good place to live. He’d acclimated back into society better than most did, he figured. His parole officer had never given him an infraction for anything. All good marks to confirm he’d served his time. But one could never predict the future. Anything could’ve happened. He’d learned early in life things could change on a dime.

Look at what one drive in the rain did to him.

He killed his parents.

“Hey.” Deja tapped his shoulder. “You okay?”

He nodded, shaking off the memories he tried hard to forget. No matter how hard he tried, it never worked. They lived with him daily, night and day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second.

“Enjoying this pie. I’m shocked Emmett didn’t come with you.”

Or Ethan. While Emmett was a decent guy and perfect for his sister, Dare got along with Ethan a lot more. The dude was as close to a best friend he’d ever had. It’d be hard to leave Ethan, too.

So why in the hell was he planning on leaving?

“Trust me, he wanted to, but you know.” She shrugged, fiddling with the edge of the pie pan. “He doesn’t want to crowd you. We even talked about having dinner at our house. With everybody.”

“That’s okay. I’m cool. I don’t need all this. The pie is fine. Don’t do a big thing for me. I hate parties.”

She chuckled. “Which is what I told him. He’s happy for you. We all are.”

It still felt weird to hear. That someone other than Deja cared about him. That a whole family that didn’t have to care worried about him and how he was feeling. Sometimes, the McCords could be too smothering. Always in each other’s business. Constantly getting together and hanging out. They definitely weren’t like his family. Not that he would even consider his parents much of parents. They hadn’t cared about anyone but themselves.

And what did he do? Instead of being there for his sister—because his parents never had any intention of doing so—he not only screwed up his life, but he made Deja’s life hell, too. Leaving her alone at sixteen to fend for herself. Making life more difficult than it had to be.

Now he was thinking about upending her life once more. Except the big difference this time: she wouldn’t be alone. She’d have Emmett and the rest of the McCord family to lean on. As much as they pretended he was a part of that family, too, he wasn’t. He never would be.

“You don’t like the pie?”

He shook his head, as if clearing the rest of the melancholy feelings that teetered on driving him over the edge. He cracked a grin and took another bite.

“Na, it’s delicious.”

“You seem…not as happy as I thought you’d be.”

“It’s just another day, D. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Because he sure in the hell wasn’t going to part with the truth—not yet, anyway. He might’ve pulled his duffle bag out of the closet, but he hadn’t packed it. Not yet.

Maybe he wouldn’t leave.

Though his skin was crawling with unease. Like he had to leave. As if, if he didn’t burn rubber out of town soon, he’d burn in hell or some crazy shit.

“Right. Okay.” Her lips arched up as if she could hide her trepidation from him. She knew he was holding back but didn’t want to press. He was grateful she understood him and his erratic moods.

“So, no dinner tonight. I get it if you don’t want that.”

“I don’t. I have two jobs I need to do today, and then I’ll veg out on the couch and watch baseball.”

Typical day in his life. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. There wasn’t much else for him to do. Besides hanging out with Deja and the McCords on occasion. Ethan tried to get him to date, setting him up with a few women. It never went very far. As soon as they learned he was a felon, they retreated. He learned to confess right up front so he could avoid all the awkwardness. Why set himself up for heartbreak down the road? If they didn’t like him—all the nasty parts of him—then they weren’t worth his time. He eventually told Ethan to knock it off. Even Deja stopped trying to set him up. Because she’d been worse than Ethan, thinking the sweet, charming ladies around the neighborhood would be dying to get in his arms. Not every woman liked a bad boy. He couldn’t consider himself anything other than that.

“I’m sure Emmett—”

“Knows that I will do my job like I always do. I don’t need the whole day off, D. Thanks for the pie. Tyrone should be here soon to pick me up.”

Which translated into ‘Get out. I’m done.’ Of course, he wouldn’t say that to her. He could control his temper, his annoyance when he tried. When it came to his sister, he tried hard not to lose control. Hurting her was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone.” She held her hands up in surrender, laughing. “Ava and Zane are having a small get-together tomorrow at the farm. It has nothing to do with you. So I expect you there.”

“Why?”

It’s as if his sister sensed his need to flee. That if he wasn’t close to her at all times, he’d slip away without a word. While he wanted to leave town, he’d never do it without saying good-bye first. It was a dumb question he asked, but he wanted to hear why it was so important he show up. She didn’t like Ava’s get-togethers half the time—just like him. Ava worked for the crime scene unit, so she was friends with a lot of cops. Neither of them was comfortable around law enforcement.

“Because I feel like a fish out of water, and I need you there. It makes her parties easier.”

He groaned. “You said get-together, not party.”

Parties were worse. He hated large crowds. People introducing themselves, wanting to know every aspect of your life. “Hi, I’m so and so. Who are you? What do you do? How long have you lived here? Oh, I hear you were in prison? How was that?”

Maybe the last few questions were never brought out in the open so forthright, but pretty damn close. It was a small town, and news tended to travel fast, especially in certain circles. A small get-together meant he’d know most of the people and wouldn’t have to deal with those dumb-ass questions. A party meant the opposite. And he’d have to deal with all of that. It wasn’t any of their damn business, yet they made him feel like it was and he had to confess every nasty part himself. More times than not, he did it simply to get them away from him. It always worked. No one wanted to be around a felon—one that killed his parents.

“It’s in-between.”

Dare scooped a piece of apple pie to stop himself from expressing the anger he could feel bubbling to the surface. What the hell did in-between mean? Why should he have to go? Deja could handle these parties better than him. He always stayed in his own little corner and felt like an outsider every single time.

“Ava has a few friends visiting from New York. Not quite a party, but a bit more than a get-together. Please, Dare, come. For me.”

As much as he wanted to, he could never deny his sister.

“Yeah. Fine. For you.”

The smile that spread across her face made the anger simmer down inside. But it didn’t hamper the desire to leave. If anything, this entire interaction made him want to leave faster.

Copyright © 2022 Amanda Siegrist.

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