“Everyone has secrets. Everyone.”

“True,” I said. “But yours are way bigger than most people’s.”

“So you refuse to give us a chance because of my father?”

“No,” I said softly. “You chose that.” I took a breath. “It’s not fair for me to make demands of you. You need to do what you need to do. But at the same time, you can’t ask me to give up the things I need in a relationship. At the core of it, we need different things to make us feel secure, things neither one of us is willing or capable of giving.”

“So that’s it. We’re really done?”

“We were really done last December, Wyatt. You just chose not to believe it.”

He sat back in his seat. “I love you, Carly.”

Pain filled my heart and I fought back tears. “We’re not right for each other, Wyatt. Don’t you see that?”

“Let me guess,” he said in a dark tone. “Marco is.”

“I think maybe he would be,” I said, holding back a sob, “but what I said yesterday in the Greener Pastures’ parking lot is true. I’m incapable of fully trusting anyone anymore, and without trust, there’s nothing.”

“And I was the final straw,” he said with a bit of defiance.

“Now that I’m further away from it, I can see that you really thought you were protecting me, but it’s like a child who catches a butterfly and holds it too tight. You were holding on too tight, and I saw it as deception. I still do, truth be told.”

“Well, then I guess that’s that.” He opened the car door and placed a foot on his driveway.

“We’re not done, Wyatt,” I said in an even tone. “You did promise me answers, and I intend to get them. I realize part of the problem might be that you know so many things and you’re so used to hiding them, you don’t know where to start. So in the future, I’m going to come to you with specific questions and you’ll answer them.”

“I’ll tell you what I can.”

“No. You’ll fully answer the question asked.” I sat back in my seat, suddenly exhausted. “Now we’re done. I’m going home.”

He started to get out, then stopped, turning back to face me with soft eyes. “You think you’re tough, and you are, but I see a woman who needs to be held. Needs to be loved. You deserve the kind of love I can give you.”

“And if you loved me at all, you’d see I’d never feel truly loved until my deepest core needs were met. Something you’re still incapable of giving me.” I looked him directly in the eyes. “Good night, Wyatt.”

He got out and headed to his front door, turning back to watch me as I left.

I headed home, trying to push all thoughts of what could have been from my mind.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Marco didn’t call, but I was still up when his Explorer pulled into Hank’s driveway a little after four a.m.

I ran out the door to greet him, and he got out of his truck, shaking his head.

“You should be in bed, Carly,” he said softly when he reached me at the bottom of the steps. “You had a hell of a night.”

I shivered. “So did you.”

He ran his hands down my bare arms to warm me up, frowning when he saw the bruise on the side of my face. “How are you feelin’? I think we should run you down to Greeneville in the morning to see a doctor.”

“I’m fine, just a little banged up. Are you headed home?”

“For a few hours of sleep. I need to head to the station in Ewing to give an official statement in the morning. You told me to call, but I didn’t have access to a phone, so I decided to stop by. I’d hoped you’d be asleep, to be honest.” he asked.

“I waited up to hear from you, and I’m nervous. I have to make a full statement too. Should I get an attorney?” My stomach clenched at the thought.

“No,” he said, enveloping me in a hug. “You’re not in any trouble. And I suspect Abby will be able to make a plea deal. Detective White thinks she can be beneficial, and she’s pullin’ lots of strings to get her off with just probation. Paul had Abby do a few things over the years that Detective White is hoping will help her root out more corruption. And it doesn’t hurt that Max hooked her up with the Drummond family attorney.”

I pulled away. “Oh, God. She won’t owe Bart a favor, will she?”

“No. I’ve already asked. Wyatt’s covering the expense.”

“And where did he get all of this money he keeps doling out?” I asked. “Seth’s funeral couldn’t have been cheap.”

He sighed. “Another mystery to solve.”

A new fear hit me. “Does the thought of goin’ after Bart worry you? Do you want to let it go? Cleaning up the sheriff’s department is dangerous enough. You don’t need to deal with my personal vendetta too.”

He slowly shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re intertwined. Besides, his threat is still hangin’ over your head. We’ll find a way to bring him down.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “I won’t be able to sit with you when you give your statement, but I’ll be outside the room. Just answer the questions as truthfully as possible, and you’ll be okay.”

“What does ‘as truthfully as possible’ mean?”

He hesitated. “I would never tell you what to say in a statement—that would be illegal—but if you were to include anything about your vendetta against Bart… let’s just say the corruption hasn’t been rooted out of the department yet.”

I nodded. “I understand.”

He studied me in the moonlight for a moment, saying nothing. There was something beautiful about that moment, something pure and unbroken, and I didn’t want it to end. But finally he said, “I better head home.”

Still, he didn’t make any moves to go.

I didn’t want him to leave. I needed him. Yet I had nothing to offer him but my friendship, and I’d already abused that privilege.

“Thank you,” I whispered, staring into his eyes. “Thank you for your help. Thank you for your understanding.”

A soft smile lit up his eyes and he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Thank you for being my friend.”

Then he got in his SUV and left.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of a car pulling onto Hank’s land. I quickly jumped out of bed and grabbed my chunky cardigan before running out to see who it was.

Hank was sitting in his chair on the porch, nursing a cup of coffee.

Abby had pulled her pickup truck into the driveway, stopping about ten feet from the house. She got out of the truck, holding a wicker laundry basket. “I hope it’s okay that I stopped by.”

“Of course,” I said hesitantly. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was angry with me. Her chances of getting out of this free and clear might have been damaged by Paul’s suicide, and maybe even by the fact that Max and Marco had shared all the details with the sheriff’s department before she could.

“I come in peace,” she said, lifting the basket slightly.