A Little Bit Wicked - Melissa Foster Page 0,134

yet, and I know you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“You think you know me, huh?” she teased, loving that even with everything going on, he still gave importance to the things that she held close to her heart.

“Oh, I know you, sweet thing.”

He helped her over rocks, brush, and a fallen tree as they made their way up an incline to a clearing. Stunning views of Wellfleet Harbor spilled out before them. The tide was going out, and she gazed down at the shoreline snaking along the beach to a mass of green grasses popping up like islands in shallow marshes. Just beyond the marshes, the beach appeared again, only to disappear around a long stretch of tree-covered dunes.

“This is beautiful.” Chloe pulled out her phone and began taking pictures.

“Yeah, it is. That’s why this is where you’re going to let go of your past.”

She lowered her phone, meeting his serious gaze. “What do you mean?”

“The first time Preacher took me on this hike alone, he brought me to this spot. He told me to get all those shitty feelings out of me or they’d gnaw at my gut like cancer. I stood right where you are and let it all out. I yelled at my father for being a shit and at my mother for leaving me. I cursed the foster care system, and I said some pretty horrible things about myself, too, that I didn’t even know I had inside me.” He took her hand and said, “It’s not a cure-all, Chloe, but it helps.”

“You want me to stand here and shout about my dirty laundry?” She shook her head. “I can’t do that. Someone might hear me.”

“We’re alone, babe. But even if we weren’t, you can’t keep that shit inside you. Preacher was right—it will eat you alive. You need to get it out, and who cares if someone hears you? Everyone has baggage. But if we don’t get ours out, it’ll come out in other ways, maybe not now, but years from now. You think Reba and Preacher are perfect?” He shook his head and said, “They’re not. They have their own troubles, but they don’t let them fester.” He squeezed her hand and said, “They deal with shit when it happens, and they do it together. That’s how they remain strong in a world that has so many reasons to be weak. You’ve spent a lifetime playing by the rules, Chloe, being who you think you have to be for everyone else. I understand that you have to play that game at work, but you don’t ever have to do that with me.”

Her stomach knotted. He was trying so hard to help her, and she wanted his help, but she’d hidden her painful past for so long, it had become a ravenous beast. It had already taken parts of her that she could never get back. And even if she wanted to, she didn’t know how to yell about those things. “I’m not a yeller, Justin. I can’t do it.”

“Have you ever tried?”

She shook her head. “I got pretty mad at my mother today, but you heard me. Even then I didn’t shout.”

“Maybe you should have. Just try it once for me, babe. We both felt better after I told you about finding my mother and you told me about what happened in the parking lot of the Hog. This will feel ten times better than that. It will free you, like when we ride the motorcycle.”

“That’s different. I don’t have to scream my feelings to the world.”

“The vehicle is different, but the outcome will be similar. You’ll see. It’ll ease your pain and bring clarity. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I’ll go first. Then you can decide.” He faced the water and shouted, “I fucking hate working on the job for Alan Rogers and seeing him near my girl!”

“Justin! What if someone hears you? He’s my boss! You could get me fired.”

“Do you see anyone around us? Did we pass one person on the trails?”

Her gut knotted tighter. “No, but still.”

“Okay, I get it. Don’t mess with your work. No problem. Let’s try this again.” He drew in a deep breath and hollered, “I hate that your mother makes you sad! I hate that my father was an asshole! I fucking despise that suicide is ever an option!” He tapped his fist to his chest and said, “It feels good, baby.”

His gaze shifted over her shoulder. She spun

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