Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(39)

I stared at her for a long moment and felt the sudden urge to tell her about my past. The excuse my mind made was that someone would. Hell, Miller had just threatened to do as much. And countless other residents in Starlight Grove could do the same. Maybe someone had already let something slip. As my gaze slid around the mostly empty bar, only a couple of lunch stragglers in a far corner left, I could still feel the possibility of someone telling Brae their version of my story.

But none of that was the real truth. I wanted to give Brae something that would show her she wasn’t alone, even if I couldn’t exactly give that to her. “Half-truths turned to lies,” I rasped.

Brae studied me for a long moment, peeling back the layers I’d become an expert at keeping in place. “What truths does he twist for you?”

That urge to tell her intensified. I’d never wanted to tell a soul. I’d only wanted to bury it deep. But Brae’s vulnerability made me want a piece of that bravery, too. And I didn’t want her to be alone in her pain.

I didn’t look away as I gave her ammunition I never gave people. Because they could use it the way Miller did. The way so many others did—by accident or on purpose. But I handed it to her anyway. “My father…was a serial killer.”





16





BRAEDYN





A buzz lit my ears, but beneath the hum and vibration, Dex’s words played on a loop. “My father…was a serial killer.” Over and over again.

To most, the words would’ve sounded almost flat. But I knew the tone. Knew because I’d used it many times when talking about where Owen’s father was, why my parents hadn’t helped when I had him, and where I’d been when Nova disappeared.

Sometimes, it felt like shame was carved into the very fabric of my being. All those secret brands—the ones I’d carry forever. The pain that never truly ended.

But I hid all of that with emotionless tones and masks of nothingness when I had to talk about them for one reason or another. Waiting for a reaction. To know if I would be greeted with pity or disgust. Occasionally, there was true understanding, and that was a gift. One I wanted to give Dex right now.

Because I understood the weight of what he was giving me. Just like I now understood all those short interplays I’d overheard during my time in Starlight Grove. The way Wylder reacted to being called evil. Holly’s comment about who Dex’s father was.

“That’s a hell of a thing for Miller to use against you. But since he’s a prick, it doesn’t surprise me. Maybe he has chronic diarrhea. That would make anyone cranky.”

One corner of Dex’s mouth kicked up, that lopsided smile just starting to show at the edges.

“Do you think if I gave him Ex-Lax, he could recover? I bet the town would make a statue of me in thanks. Maybe I could even get a parade.”

That hint of a grin grew. “Hellion.”

I shrugged. “It’s worth a try.”

Dex studied me for a long moment as the humor faded from his expression, but a little glow of warmth remained. “You don’t want to know about my father?”

I thought about how to answer that for a handful of seconds and what I truly wanted in that moment. “I want to know what you want to share. But I know it costs to tell those truths. And I don’t want to cause you any more pain.”

He was quiet; the only sounds were Cora and Aidan’s soft bickering across the bar. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

I scuffed my shoe against the floor. “It’s not going to change what I think about you, Buttercup. You’re still my hot, unhinged neighbor who has perfected a scowl and glower that could freeze water in the Sahara.”

That tilted smile came back. “All I heard is that I’m hot.”

I made a pppffft sound. “You know you’re too damn good-looking. If anything’s freaky about you, it’s that. Maybe it’s the glasses.”

Dex barked out a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

I met that dark-hazel gaze, not looking away. “The only thing you sharing with me will change is how much I understand you. How much I respect what you’ve overcome.”

Dex’s gaze shifted to the side. The moment the connection broke, I missed it. He rocked back on his heels slightly, his eyes tracing the grain of the wood floor. “You might run away. Never want to be alone with me. Or even if you don’t, some part of you might end up waiting for me to turn on you.”

“Dex?”

His gaze lifted as if he didn’t have control over it returning to me.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible. What the fuck?”

He jolted slightly, my response clearly unexpected. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Dex’s jaw went slack this time. “Excuse me?”

“Do you think I’m stupid? Because I’d have to be to think any of those things just because of who your father was. And that’s just rude.”

A hint of that familiar scowl was back, but I sensed it wasn’t directed at me. “His DNA is half of mine. He raised me until I was twelve years old.”

“And my parents kicked me out when I refused to hide my pregnancy and give my son up for adoption. Does that mean I’m gonna abandon my son when he does something I don’t like?” I shot back.