“You break her?” Raid pressed.
Tired of this shit, Deacon gave it to him.
“You heard the song ‘Say Something?’”
Raid again flinched. He’d heard it.
“Yeah,” Deacon whispered.
He broke her. He didn’t stay around to watch. He still knew he did it.
That burn spread further.
Raid stood, saying quietly, “Give me something.”
Deacon didn’t respond.
“Come stay with me and Hanna. Give it one shot. See what it’s like when a man feels like he lost everything good, gets a second chance, and learns his future includes better.”
Deacon remained silent.
“It can happen for you if you let it.”
“You want us to remain anything to each other, Miller, your time to stop talking is now.”
He said it. He meant it.
Raid knew it.
His friend nodded.
Without another word, Raid walked to the door.
He was standing in it when he looked back to Deacon, and because he was a damned fine man, if an annoying one, he pushed it.
“Known you a long time, never knew you to be wrong,” he began. “Until now. You deserve to be happy. You don’t think you do but you’re so fuckin’ wrong, it hurts to be in the same room with you. But even if you don’t believe that, I know in my gut you wouldn’t find a woman who didn’t deserve that too. And it’s you takin’ that from her.”
“According to you, I was wrong the first time.”
“Lesson one from Deacon when he taught me everything I know,” Raid fired back. “You got one shot to learn from your mistakes. You think you drilled that into me, I don’t know you never made the same mistake twice, you’re fucked in the head.” His voice lowered. “But I know you’re not. I know you know she isn’t Jeannie. And I know that this time, you should kick your own ass that you’d even insinuate that about the good woman who made a dead man’s heart start beating again. A woman you broke.”
On that, he closed the door.
* * * * *
Raiden Miller
Raid stood in the trees, binoculars to his eyes trained on the brunette doing something to the window boxes at one of the cabins littered by the river and through the woods.
He got it. He got it for a lot of reasons, not least of which she was fucking gorgeous. Unbelievable. Not a hint of makeup and she could be on the cover of Sports Illustrated in a bathing suit. If he didn’t have beauty warming his bed and making his life so sweet it beat back nightmares that would break a man, he’d want in there.
But he had that so appreciation was all that Cassidy Swallow got.
She turned and he focused in, the high-powered field glasses taking him so close he could count the strands of her hair.
He drew in breath and dropped the binoculars.
Then he walked silently through the woods to his truck.