use a credit card. I don’t think a single person other than me knows your last name. You share things about yourself but never anything that might identify you. Are you really going to tell me you’re not running?”
I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. I attempted to clear the lump that’d settled there, trying to get out one word. Just one. But it wouldn’t come.
Brody moved in closer, his hand taking mine, the one still holding the letter. His mail was now scattered across the grass. “Please. Let me help you. And if you don’t want me to help, at least let me be a listening ear. I can see it. This burden you’re carrying. Let me take some of the weight.”
My eyes burned as I stared into Brody’s. I wanted to lose myself in the dark depths. To dive in and never come up for air. The truth was, I was exhausted from holding this alone. The only other person besides my aunt who knew the truth was an anonymous screen name.
I’d felt totally and completely alone for three years. Longer if I were honest with myself. Because as much as my aunt had tried to be a comfort, she hadn’t understood what I was going through. How could she? So, I was left to hold my love and hate, my hurt and patchwork healing, my hope and fear. When it came to Michael, it was always two sides of the same coin. I had to figure out how to hold onto both.
My breathing picked up speed, but I didn’t look away from Brody. I let the dark depths of his gaze anchor me to the spot. To convince me I might not be so alone, after all. “My brother is sick. He hurts people. And I don’t want him to know where I am.”
Three simple truths. It wasn’t the whole of it. But it was enough for now. More than I’d told a soul in over three years.
Brody’s gaze dropped to the papers in my hand. “Does that letter mean he knows where you are?”
I shook my head. “No. My mail is forwarded from somewhere else.” I fought the shudder that wanted to surface. Michael knew I wasn’t in Charlotte. Of course, he did. Because he was always one step ahead. But this time, he wasn’t as far ahead as he thought. He didn’t know where I truly was. Couldn’t. I had to rest in that.
“What can I do?”
The simple kindness of Brody’s question had the burn returning to my eyes. “You’re doing it. Giving me a job and a place to live where he’ll never find me.”
Brody pulled me into a hug, his large frame engulfing my smaller one. It felt as if he could block out all the bad, any threat that might come my way. I wanted to stay in that embrace forever.
“I’m such an asshole,” he muttered.
“Why would you say that?”
He rested his chin on the top of my head. “You were terrified that I was going to fire you. I thought you were just worried about losing a sweet gig. I wasn’t exactly reassuring when I got here.”
The corners of my mouth turned up as I kept my cheek resting against his pec. “You came around pretty quickly.”
He grunted. “Not quick enough. I’m sorry. And you know you’ll always have a place on Harbor. No matter what happens.”
The ferocity of his vow eased a bit of the fear still thrumming through my system. I was safe and I had a home. That was more than enough for now.
13
Brody
I leaned back in the chair at my desk. The paint hadn’t come easily today. The evidence of that was a canvas in the corner that I’d broken in two. My brain had been caught in an endless loop. The blood draining from Shay’s face. The panic in her eyes.
I shoved back from my desk and started pacing. She hadn’t given me any more information, and I hadn’t wanted to push. It had seemed hard enough for her to tell me what she had already. But I needed to know what she was dealing with if I was going to help her.
I turned to face my desk again, a war raging inside me. When I bought the island, and the Dowds had told me about their caretaker, they had offered to pass along the background check they’d run before hiring her. But they’d spoken so highly of the woman, I hadn’t ever looked at