Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The past few days hadn’t seemed quite real. In some small part of her heart, Ainsley had held out hope that there’d been some sort of mistake, and Tess would suddenly appear with a welcoming smile and a hug, the way she always did.

But today Ainsley had watched them lower her friend into the ground, and that last kernel of hope had dissipated into thin air.

Tess was gone.

Ainsley stared out the window as they drove away from the cemetery. The funeral had been a blur of tears and condolences, and now that it was over, an overwhelming sense of emptiness settled over her.

The image of Tess’s grave lingered in her mind, a painful reminder of her own failings. She never should have asked Tess to help her. If she’d just stayed away, none of this would have happened.

Dare pulled into his driveway and turned off the engine. He glanced at Ainsley, concern etched deep in his expression. “Come on in,” he said gently. “You don’t have to be alone right now.”

Ainsley nodded, her eyes swollen and gritty from crying. She followed Dare into his house, glad for once that he was taking charge. She didn’t have to think, didn’t have to make any decisions. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other as she trailed along behind him.

Dare led her to the living room and guided her to the couch. “I’ll make us something to drink.”

He headed into the kitchen, and Ainsley sank into the couch, hugging a pillow to her chest. The silence of the house was a stark contrast to the chaos of the past few days, and it pressed in on her until she felt like she might fly apart. She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over.

Dare returned a few minutes later, carrying two glasses of amber liquid. He held it out to her and she slipped the tumbler from his hand as he took a seat next to her.

“Whiskey,” he said at her questioning look.

She nodded and took a tiny sip, the liquid burning across her tongue and down her throat. For a while, they sat in silence, sipping at their drinks. The warmth of the whiskey spread through Ainsley, tempering the bitter sting of grief.

After a few minutes, Dare broke the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really. I just… I can’t.” Her earlier crying jag, coupled with the burn of the whiskey, turned her voice was raspy.

Dare nodded, respecting her need for silence. “That’s okay. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

Ainsley drained her glass and rolled it between her hands. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” she said, her throat tight with tears. “I never wanted any of this to happen.”

Dare reached over and gently took her hand. “None of this is your fault, Ainsley. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I keep thinking about Joel,” she admitted after a moment. “I can’t help but feel like he’s involved somehow.”

Dare neither confirmed nor denied her suspicions, his expression neutral as his gaze remained locked on hers. “We’re looking into everything,” he said carefully. “I’ve been in touch with Clint Montgomery—the detective assigned to Tess’s case. You have my word, Ainsley. We’ll do our best to find whoever did this and bring them to justice.”

Ainsley nodded, and a tear escaped from the corner of her eye before she could stop it. She hastily swiped it away. “I just can’t believe she’s gone. She didn’t deserve this.”

Dare extracted the glass from her numb fingers, then set it on the table. Ainsley leaned into him, glad for the solid comfort of his huge body. “No, she didn’t,” he agreed softly, his breath ruffling her hair. “But we’ll make sure whoever did this pays for what they’ve done.”

Ainsley’s heart beat hard in her chest as she gave voice to her greatest fear. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t been so dumb, none of this would have happened.”

“That’s not true.” Dare captured her chin and directed her gaze to his. “None of this is your fault.”

“You don’t understand.” She shook her head, tears burning across the bridge of her nose. “She and I hadn’t spoken for years. He only found her because of me. I should have known better than to use his computer, but?—”

Her words cut off on a choked sob, and Dare shifted to face her more fully. “If you’re going to blame anyone, blame Joel.” He reached out and took her hand, his thumb stroking along the backs of her fingers, imploring her to listen. “You had no control over what he did.”

Ainsley swallowed hard. “I never intended to drag you into my crazy life. This is way more than what you signed up for and I… I think it might just be best if I leave.”

His thumb stilled and her gaze dropped to her hand, still ensconced in his. “Is that what you want?”

“It’s just that…” Ainsley bit her lip. “You’ve already done so much for me, and I don’t want to put you through any more than I already have. I’ll understand if you’d rather I not be here.”

“You’re safe here, Ainsley. I promise you that. Can you just give it a little more time? Please?”

She lifted her gaze to his, uncertainty thrumming through her. “Are you sure it won’t be a bother?”

He gave her hand one last squeeze before releasing her. “No. It’s no problem at all. Actually… I’d like you to stay.”

She nodded slowly, something like relief unfurling inside her chest. “Okay.”

They sat there for a long time, the quiet ticking of the clock the only sound in the room. Grief hung like a heavy weight around her shoulders, but Dare’s presence eased the burden of pain. She closed her eyes, letting herself relax against him, the warmth of his body a reassuring presence.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

Dare’s fingers tightened on her upper arm as he hugged her the tiniest bit closer. “You don’t have to thank me, Ainsley. I’m here for you. Always.”

Ainsley took a deep breath. With Dare by her side, she didn’t feel so alone. She would get through this, and she would demand justice for Tess—no matter what it took.