“Jessica?” Ryan asked. The sound of his rushed footsteps approached me. His hands closed around my upper arms, and he pulled me to sit up. “What happened? Are you okay?”

I rubbed the back of my head. It hurt so much that it had to be bleeding, but when I spied my fingers, there wasn’t any blood on them. The world revolved around me, and I closed my eyes again.

“Jess, talk to me. Are you okay?”

I shook my head, but that rattled my brain loose inside my skull, and I cringed.

Ryan felt my head with gentle fingers. “It’s going to bruise, but it’s not that bad.”

Jesus, this was great. All I wanted was to avoid him, and here we were, together and alone in the square that held too many memories to count. On top of that, I wore simple attire, had no makeup on, had just made a fool of myself, and was now sprawled on the ground, unladylike.

Irritated and embarrassed, I grunted. “You say that because it’s not your head hurting.”

He chuckled and my eyes shot open, even with the pain it brought. His gaze met mine, and his grin died. His lips pressed together and his jaw ticked.

Realizing he was still holding me, Ryan jumped up and retreated a few steps. “What are you doing here?”

With the warmth of his hands gone, a cold trail swept over my skin. What the hell? It was over ninety degrees. At night!

“I could ask you the same thing.” I wanted to stand, but I didn’t think it was a good idea yet. So, I just crossed my legs and took a deep breath, willing the pain away. “This was the last place I thought I would see you. Actually, I was quite sure you would be at the motorcycle thing.”

He looked at the ground and shook his head. “I don’t go to bike shows.”

I frowned and that brought new pain to my head. “That’s what the girls said.”

Quietly, he turned to the fountain again, his gaze distant.

Even hurt, it was hard not to noticed he hadn’t changed that much. His face was still of a bad boy, his gaze was still breathtaking, and his body was still ripped.

But he had changed. He was more ripped now, evident in the way his green T-shirt hugged his torso and arms and exposed the muscles underneath. He had new tattoos on his lower arms and on his neck, and only God, and the women he slept with, knew where else. But he looked much more serious now, and sad.

Fighting the pain and the dizzy spell that overtook me, I stood. “What happened to you?”

He gave me a quick glance over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“You’re different.”

He shrugged, his eyes on the water. “People change.”

Most people changed, but Ryan wasn’t one of them.

I should run away and stay as far away from him as I could, but something nagged at me, some heavy feeling expanded in my chest, and I knew something had happened to him, even if he was trying to pretend nothing had. And I wanted to know what that something was.

I took a step forward, standing beside him, but still several feet away. “So … why aren’t you at the bike show?”

He looked down again and sighed. “Don’t do this, Jessica. Don’t pretend you care when I know you don’t. And you know what?” He turned to me, his eyes hard and cruel. “I don’t want you to.”

I gasped, totally taken aback by the coldness of his stare. He had never, ever looked at me that way.

Before I could recover and snap at him, he spun around and marched toward his Mustang.

Ryan halted. “Shit,” he muttered.

I followed his gaze. To his right, a cop walked down the path to the plaza.

“Mr. Dawson,” the cop said, his hands in his pockets. “Do you know what time it is?”

Ryan grunted. “Yes.”

“Did you forget about your curfew?”

Curfew? What was he talking about?

“No, Officer Mike. I just got caught up.”

I took two steps to the side, so I could look at the cop, and found him staring at me with interest.

“Oh, I see,” the cop said. “Are you trying to get in trouble again?”

“No.” Ryan’s jaw and shoulders were hard.

“Then you should stay away from her,” the cop said.

“What?” I squealed.

“I know.” Ryan fished his car keys from his pockets. “It was an accident. She was here when I arrived and I was just leaving.”

“I see.” The cop glanced at me again, a frown between his brows. “Then I’ll escort you home.”

Without saying another word or looking back at me, Ryan continued to his car, the cop on his heels.

Ryan drove away, and the cop, in his police car, followed him down Main Street.

My knees wobbled, and I almost fell on the ground again.

What had just happened?

Without wasting time, I drove home, relieved to see Jason’s bike in the driveway.

I found him in the kitchen, eating a piece of apple pie, with Luna circling his legs, asking for some.

He smiled when he saw me. “Hey. Are you okay? I confess I panicked a little when I got home a few minutes ago and didn’t see the truck.”

“What happened to Ryan?” I blurted, and his eyes widened. “He doesn’t go to bike shows anymore, and I just saw a cop escort him home, talking about curfew.”

“Shit,” he whispered, setting the plate on the countertop.

“No, don’t shit me. If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out some other way.”

He took a deep breath. “Listen, Jess, I’m not sure I’m the one who should be talking about this. It’s his problem; it’s his thing. If you want to know so badly, I think you should ask him.”

I sat down at one of the kitchen chairs. “I kinda did.”

“And?”

I tapped my fingers on the table. “He was pretty mean. He told me not to pretend I care.”

Jason sat beside me, the shine in his eyes hesitant. “Do you care?”

I averted my eyes, not sure about the answer. “I hate him. I hate what he did to me. But I’m not a bad person, and I don’t wish anyone to go through what I did, or rot in hell, or whatever. Not even him.”

My brother patted my hand. “I’m sure he wishes you well too.”

I didn’t doubt him. After all, he was Ryan’s best friend, and I knew they told each other everything. But that wasn’t the real question. “Why? Why would he wish me well now? He certainly didn’t four years ago.”

“Almost four years ago,” Jason corrected me. “I can’t answer that either, Jess. I still think that, if you want answers, you gotta go straight to the source.”

He stood, and I stepped in his way before he could leave the kitchen.

“Hey, you’re my brother. You’re supposed to help me, to defend me. Something you didn’t do four years ago!”

The hurt that took over his expression tugged at my heart. Damn, if only I could take my words back.

He reached up and cupped my cheek. “Jess, we can’t change the past, and I’m sorry for that. You know I’m truly sorry. I’m not telling you his shit because it’s my way of helping you, defending you. Forget about it. But if you can’t, go ask him.”

“I can’t … I can’t just walk up to him and ask him whatever this is. He pushed me away, remember? I was—am—nothing to him. Why would he want me to tell me anything?”

“See, you know nothing about nothing. And that’s why I think you should go talk to him. You two need to put the past in the past. I think you’ll only be able to do it after talking and resolving your problems. Together.”

I gaped at him. “You’re crazy.” I was nothing to Ryan. Why would he need me to put his past behind him? What had he done? Slept with a demon? I couldn’t help him with that. I couldn’t help him with anything. “He probably didn’t spend one second thinking about me after I left.”

A sad smile took over my brother’s lips. “You’re so, so wrong, sis. And that’s all I’m gonna say. You want to know more, go talk to him.” He kissed my forehead. “Goodnight.”

He left the kitchen, and I sank down in the chair, tired, as if I had fought a battle.

Chapter Ten

Jessica