Shit. I had to get out to the orchards. Check on everything. But I needed some alone time first. I quickly texted my foreman and told him I’d be an hour or so late coming down. Then I opened the door to my room, shut and locked it, and lay down on my bed, closing my eyes. Roger jumped up and snuggled at my feet.

Maybe just another hour of sleep—if I could be so lucky.

* * *

“Hey, handsome.” Julie grabbed my arm and pulled me into her apartment. “Long time no see. Whatcha been up to?”

The little cocktail waitress was still hot as hell. Small in stature but nice and curvy, she wore a tight T-shirt and athletic shorts.

I didn’t answer her. I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I was in the mood to fuck—to fuck the memory of Jade Roberts right out of my head. After a hard day in the orchard, I’d driven to Grand Junction for a quick bite to eat and hopefully a quicker romp in the sack.

Julie was a fun little fuck. She smiled as I grabbed her and pulled her tight little body into mine. I leaned down and kissed her, forcing my tongue into her warm little mouth. She was so much shorter than Jade. My neck was ready to break.

No. No thoughts of Jade.

I deepened the kiss, searching, wanting, waiting for…that champagne and strawberry flavor that intoxicated me. Instead I got fresh mint. Not bad. I could make that work. I pulled her up against my pelvis and ground into her.

Nothing.

No erection.

I wasn’t even breathing hard.

I broke the kiss.

“What’s wrong, handsome?”

I didn’t answer.

Julie took my hand and squeezed it. “Wanna go into the bedroom?”

I let out a sigh and shook my head. No use. Another woman wasn’t going to help.

Damn, nothing would help. Nothing except Jade. I wanted to lose myself in her.

“I have to go,” I said to Julie.

“Come on, handsome. Let me help you take the edge off.”

If only she could. “Not tonight. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, maybe another time…”

I walked out of her apartment and didn’t look back.

* * *

“Can’t reach it, boy?” Tattoo chuckled.

The boy didn’t know their names, but the one with the tattoo—some kind of colorful bird wrapped in flames and rising from what looked like ashes—always took the lead.

The glass of water sat less than an inch from the boy’s reach. Full, with ice, and the boy was dying of thirst, his mouth parched. His lips were so dry the bottom one had cracked in the middle, and he tasted the tang of blood on his tongue.

“Look at him reach.” The one with the low voice laughed.

This was a game they liked to play. And even though logically the boy knew he would never be able to reach the glass of water, still he tried, stretching his arm as far as he could, thinking maybe, just maybe, today was the day his arm had grown a little bit, or that he could stretch his muscles those few more millimeters necessary…

It didn’t happen.

The three men laughed at him, taunting him. “Thirsty, boy? You want that water, boy?” Their devilish laughter echoed in his ears.

If only he could reach just a little farther…

He imagined the cool crisp water flowing down his throat, soothing the dryness, easing the ache of hunger that was always present, hydrating his dry lips, healing them.

Always that glass sat there, always slightly beyond his reach.

Always…

* * *

A new memory—how could I have forgotten? That fucking glass of water still tormented me. Again, I sat in the kitchen, staring at it. Never drinking it. Only that tiny sip that had barely wet my tongue the other night when Jade bothered me about it. The sip had felt wrong, like I deserved punishment for taking it. I didn’t know why. I drank plenty of water. I didn’t get dehydrated at all, but that midnight glass of water—the one that I poured myself, added ice to, and sat on the table before me—that was the one I couldn’t touch.

I hadn’t seen Jade since this morning—yesterday morning, since it was after midnight—when I left her bedroom. I assumed she went to work and then came home. I hadn’t gotten home from Grand Junction until nearly eleven.

Julie’s words rang in my mind. Okay, maybe another time…

But I knew then and I knew now. There would be no other time with her or with anyone.

Until I got Jade Roberts out of my system, I wouldn’t be with other women.

Fatigue gripped me. God, I was so fucking tired. Always tired. If only I could get one whole night of sleep…

I looked over at the full glass of water, condensation forming on the outside of the glass. And again the maniacal laughter… I could still hear all three of them in my ears, laughing at me, taunting me with that glass of water.

I stood. “Damn it!” I said aloud. I picked up that fucking glass of water and hurled it onto the floor where it shattered into hundreds of little pieces.

Then I sat back down in the chair, letting the darkness take me, my head in my hands. Melancholy enveloped me. Sadness overtook me.

But I didn’t cry.

* * *

“You want that water, boy?”

The boy nodded. It would do no good, but he nodded anyway as he always did. Maybe this would be the one time when they felt sorry enough for him to give him the water.

“I’ll give you the water if you cry, boy,” Tattoo said, his eyes glowing beneath his black mask. “Go ahead. Cry for it. Cry like the little pansy you are.”

The boy was all cried out. There probably wasn’t enough water in his body to make tears.

But that water—that tall, clear glass of water—pulsed like a heartbeat. It was laughing too, ridiculing him, jabbing at him.

“You can’t have me. They’ll never let you have me…”

The boy closed his eyes, squeezing them together, desperately trying to conjure just one tear, even knowing that he still wouldn’t get the water if he cried. He bore down, clenched all his muscles, trying, trying…

“Come on, boy. Just cry for me. Cry one tear, and I’ll let you have the water.”

The boy didn’t cry.

* * *

The next morning, I rose early and walked into the kitchen to clean up the mess I’d left. I didn’t want anyone slipping and getting hurt. Leaving the shattered glass and water on the floor had been self-indulgent. Two others lived in this house, and I had no right to put them in danger.