Chapter 22

DYLAN

F or the first time in a long while, I wish I didn't have to work tonight.

I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it's the conversation I'd had earlier with my mother, the feeling that I'm constantly disappointing the two people who brought me into this world.

Or maybe it's because I know Mackenzie isn't rostered on, and the shifts I have with her have become my favourite.

Maybe it's the weather.

But also, maybe it's Mackenzie.

The rain hasn't let up for the past hour and I'm already half-drenched before I make it to the car. I reverse out of the driveway, turning onto the quiet street when a bolt of lightning illuminates the darkness.

I slow down a little further along the road, giving way to a bus, but soon after I press my foot to the accelerator, I'm hitting the brakes again as a figure darts out in front of me.

I lurch forward, my hands braced tightly on the wheel, staring through the blur of thick rain that tumbles down the windshield at the woman in front of me.

She pauses, a deer in the headlights, her long curls dampened straight by the downpour. She raises her left arm to shield her face from the light.

A face that I know all too well.

She darts off across the road, tripping at the entrance to the beach trail. I squint through the rain-soaked window in time to watch her fall to her knees. I don't know what the hell Mackenzie is doing out here. I only know that I need to get to her.

Awareness kicks in as a car horn blares behind me, a reminder that I'm still stopped in the middle of the road. I swiftly pull over to the side and launch myself out of the car, racing in her direction.

"Mackenzie!" I call out as I reach the trail's entrance. "Mackenzie!"

As I draw nearer, her light, denim, mud-splattered jeans come into focus, but it's not until she pushes her hair back from her panic-stricken face, that I realise something is very wrong.

There's a jolt in my chest at the sight of her distraught expression, her cheeks caked with streaks of mud as tears stream from her eyes, her petite rain-soaked body wracking with sobs.

"Mackenzie."

Even if she can hear me, she doesn't respond, scrambling to her feet and bolting further down the track. At this point, I'm concerned for her safety, so I sprint after her, settling a hand on her shoulder when she comes within reach.

She turns, thrashing at me with wild arms. "Get off me!"

"Mackenzie, it's me," I say as tenderly as I can over the pelting of the rain. I try to be gentle as I attempt to restrain her hands. She's a small woman but she's strong.

"No!" she screams again.

Reaching my arms around her, I pull her back into my chest. I squeeze her wrists tighter, hating that I need to use force to calm her down. Dropping my chin to her shoulder, I speak softly into her ear. "It's me. It's Dylan."

The fight suddenly leaves her, her body sagging against mine. Her breathing is ragged as she slowly turns to face me, the terror in her eyes still there. "Dylan?"

I nod, my chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "It's me."

"You're not him." She gasps the words out.

It doesn't take a genius to guess who she had mistaken me for. Her ex has put her through more than any person deserves to go through. A few choice words come to mind when I think of him, but she doesn't need to hear those right now. She needs my reassurance. To know that she is safe. Her mind has gone somewhere dark, and I need to bring her back to me. "I'd never hurt you, Kenz."

Her bottom lip trembles as she takes a hesitant step forward, pausing before closing the final gap between us.

She collapses into my chest and I envelope her in my arms, wrapping one hand around her waist, caressing the back of her head with the other. My fingers thread through her damp hair as she chokes out another sob.

"It's okay, Kenz. You're gonna be okay."

The rain pelts down on us harder now as another bolt of lightning cracks through the otherwise black sky, illuminating Mackenzie's distant icy blue stare as she pulls back from me.

"It's not okay," she murmurs just loud enough for me to hear. "Nothing is okay."

My brows pinch as I search for meaning behind her words. I want to know what has happened to her. What has changed since the kiss we shared on the boat?

But it isn't safe here.

"Come on," I say. "Let's get you somewhere dry."

I lead her to my car through the onslaught of rain. This time, when I open the passenger door for her, she doesn't fight me with some silly remark. Instead, she slumps into the seat, pulling her knees up to her chest and tucking her head down in between them.

This is definitely not the Mackenzie that I've come to know and seeing this version of her has me rattled. It's incredibly out of character for her to show emotion like this. To admit vulnerability.

I tug my phone out of my pocket and pull up Jesse's contact as I race around to the driver's door. He answers on the second ring. "Hey, bro."

"Jesse, hey. Is there any way you are free right now and can do me the hugest favour?"

"You need me at the tavern?"

I raise the volume of my voice to compete with the pouring rain. "Yeah. Look, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't crazy important, but I need you to start earlier. Like, now. If you can. I don't think I'm going to make it in there tonight."

"Sure. Everything okay?"

"I'm not sure," I say, as I pull open the door. "But I'm going to find out."

I end the call as I slide into the car. The windows quickly fog up with our body heat, the driving rain still blurring the occasional oncoming headlights.

"Kenz," I say gently. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

I watch as her chest rises with an unsteady breath, but she doesn't answer my question. Her stare is directed at the dashboard, her arms still wrapped around her knees.

"Kenz, I'm worried. Is it Kristen? Is everyone okay?"

I don't miss the slight crease between her brows before she turns her cold, blue gaze on me. Even with bloodshot eyes and blotchy cheeks, she's still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

"It's not like that," she whispers. "Everyone is fine. Do you think you could just drive?"

She squeezes her eyes shut and a tear runs from each corner and even though I have no idea what has caused them, I feel her sorrow like a punch to the gut. I understand that she isn't ready to talk about whatever has her upset and I can respect that.

"Okay. Is Kristen or Henley home?" I reach across her to retrieve her seatbelt and click it into place around her shivering body.

The quick shake of her head that follows is so slight I could have missed it. Then she's resting her chin on her knees again. There's no way I'm taking her back to an empty house in this state. I can't bear the thought of leaving her alone right now.

Within two minutes we're pulling into the tiny driveway out the front of my beach shack. I round the car, opening Mackenzie's door and carefully helping her to her feet. She's trembling profusely now, the cold rain having soaked her skin. "Come on. Let's get you dry."

There's no sign of Chance on the porch as I lead Mackenzie up the weather-beaten steps, but I'll have to deal with him later. He's a smart dog and knowing him, he's found refuge underneath the house somewhere.

I guide her through the front door and straight down the hall to the bathroom. Her own arms are wrapped around her waist, the water from her jeans pooling at our feet. Her tears seem to have run out, but she still hasn't spoken another word and I'm rendered utterly helpless. I need to know what I can do to make things better for her.

I lean down, pressing my lips to her cold, clammy forehead. "I'll get you some towels."

I duck into the hall, retrieving the nicest bath towels I own from the linen closet and place them near the bathroom sink. She hasn't moved, her teeth chattering as she stares down at the porcelain tiles. I go to her, wrapping my arms around her again, rubbing at the goosebumps on her arms. I'm not sure how much it does for her though, given that I'm soaked through as well.

"You're freezing, Kenz. We need to get you warm." I pull the shower curtain aside and reach an arm out to turn on the hot water, adjusting the faucet until the temperature is right.

She begins unbuttoning her jeans and my heart races as they drop to the floor. She seems dazed, completely disconnected. I still have no idea what has gotten her so upset but watching

her battle this inner turmoil breaks me.

I can't resist drawing her near to me one last time before I leave the room. My fingers slide up her neck until I'm cupping her face in my hands. "I'm going to get you some dry clothes, okay?"

The subtlest of nods is the only sign that she has heard me. I leave the door ajar as I sprint to my room and rummage through my drawers in search of something suitable. Whatever I choose is going to be way too big for her, but I settle on a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt with the logo of the local surf shop on it.

When I return to the bathroom, the door is still partially open, and I can see that the shower curtain has been closed over. I reach a hand in between the crack, placing the clothes on the basin for Mackenzie to find.

Once I've returned to my room, I remove my own wet clothes, dressing in a pair of sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. The pipes in this house are noisy as hell, so I instantly know when Mackenzie shuts off the water.

A few minutes later, she emerges from the bathroom, wandering awkwardly into my room, her legs bare, the hem of the t-shirt I gave her falling mid-thigh.

"I tried the pants," she says, brushing her wet hair back from her face. "But they wouldn't stay up."

A sad smile tugs at my mouth as I watch her pull at the bottom of the shirt before folding her arms across her chest. I move to the dresser and open the top drawer, reaching in for my light blue hoodie. It's oversized on me so I know it will hang a little lower than the t-shirt I gave her to wear, plus it will keep her warm.

She raises her arms above her as I approach, allowing me to loop the soft fabric over her head. She fumbles with the sleeves as I gently tug her hair from the hood and smooth it out behind her. I frown when her face crumples slightly, a sign she's holding back more tears.

"What is it, Kenz?"

"I'm sorry," she sobs.

"Hey. Look at me," I beckon. She raises her glacial gaze to mine. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

"But you're missing your shift."

I shake my head. "Don't worry about that. I'd miss my shift a thousand times over if it meant I got to see how gorgeous you look in my hoodie."

A mangled laugh leaves her as she chokes back another sob.

"Seriously." I turn her cheek, drawing her eyes back to mine. "There's no place I'd rather be than here with you."

I wish I could scoop her up in my arms and hold her until her sadness disappears, but this is Mackenzie. I need to practice some restraint with her, though I know that despite her tough exterior, she's more fragile than she lets on.

She is a domestic violence survivor and I know next to nothing about what that means for her. The way she'd freaked out at the trail tonight only proves that she's wrestling demons I know nothing about. I'm going to have to muster up more patience than I ever have before.

But I can do that. For her, I'd do anything.

"Come on." I slip my hand in hers and lead her to the living room.

"I like your place," she says, dropping down onto the couch, her eyes scanning the small dining table by the window and the closed, white curtains that primarily hide the french doors at the back of the room.

"Thanks," I say, rubbing the back of my neck. "Better than a vacation mansion out on the cape?"

The hint of a smile pulls at the corners of her mouth, but it doesn't meet her eyes. "Definitely."

I take the space beside her on the couch, leaving a little distance between us. It's then I notice the purple-blue bruises on her kneecaps. She must have got them when she fell down at the trail. I don't know how I hadn't noticed them before. Maybe the heat of the shower has brought them out further.

"Shit, Kenz. Your knees." I rub a distraught hand over my face.

She glances down and gives the slightest of shrugs. "It's fine. I've had worse."

My eyes flash with fury in response to her words, my jaw clenching in anger. "Don't tell me that."

I can't hear that these bruises are nothing to her. That she's had worse inflicted upon her at the hands of a man that never deserved to be graced with her existence.

She draws her knees up, hiding them under the long hem of the hoodie and I hate that I've made her feel like she has to cover up. She has nothing to be ashamed of.

"Kenz, I'm not going to push you to tell me what it is that has you so upset tonight. But I want you to know… I need you to know, that I'm here for you. Whenever you want to talk. Or not. I just…" I trail off, swallowing the lump that builds in my throat at the sight of a silent tear tracking its way down her cheek.

This amazing woman here is hurting and I've never felt so powerless. I don't know whether to draw her near or give her space. I wish I knew what she needed but she isn't easy to read.

"My mother died." The words leave her mouth so easily that I'm not sure if I've heard them correctly.

"What?"

"She died. She's gone."

"Oh, Kenz." I shuffle closer to her on the couch, my hands reaching for hers. "How? I thought you had no idea where she was."

"I don't. I didn't." She slides her fingers from my grip, swiping at her eyes, then the words rush out of her. "I met this woman at the pier one day and she told me that she liked my art. She runs a studio in Seabright Cove. I took her up on her offer to go to her art classes there and today she told me…" She pauses, inhaling deeply as though she's internally mustering up the strength to get the words out of her mouth. "She told me that she is my maternal grandmother."

I blow out a long breath, bringing my hands to the bridge of my nose. For her to have learnt that her mother has passed away the same day she discovers she has a grandmother? It's no wonder she's in this state. "That's a lot to process."

"I asked her where my mum was but somehow, I already knew. She told me she'd passed away not all that long ago." Another tear falls down her cheek. "But I don't even know whether to believe her. I mean, how did she even find me at the pier that day?"

I don't know what to say, so I just listen. I place a hand on her knee, careful to avoid the bruise.

"It's stupid," she says, swiping at her face with the sleeves of my hoodie. "I feel like an idiot. I didn't even know her. I don't have any right to be upset when she wasn't even a part of my life."

"Of course, you do," I tell her. "You have every right to be upset, or angry even. All of your feelings are valid."

She nods. "I guess there's always been this small part of me that had hope. This na?ve idea that one day she'd walk back into my life. And now that dream is over. I never got to know my mother. I have no idea where I came from. And now I never will."

"I'm sorry, Kenz." I wrap my arm around her shoulder and she nuzzles into my chest.

I pull her closer, leaning back into the couch cushions behind us. We stay like that, listening to the wind howl through the sheets of roofing over the front porch and the tinny echo made by the battering rain. I hold her until her tears stop falling, knowing that there isn't anything that I can say to ease her heartache.

"Thank you," she whispers. "For taking care of me."

"Always."

She tilts her face up to mine and my arms tighten around her. I lean in, the memory of her mouth on mine in the warehouse still fresh in my mind. What I wouldn't do to live that moment all over again. I glide my fingers along her jaw, pressing my thumb to the centre of her full bottom lip.

Then my heart jerks in my chest as something crashes loudly against the back doors.

"What was that?" Mackenzie startles, her eyes brimming with fear. She unfurls herself from me and I pine the loss of her warmth.

A low groan leaves me. "That," I say, getting up and walking to the french doors, "was Chance."

I throw open the curtains to reveal a mud and rain-soaked kelpie-border collie mix.

The smile that lights up her face is real and it's almost enough to make me forget she was ever sad. "Oh my God. He's the most adorable thing."

"Are we looking at the same mutt?" I ask her sarcastically.

She rises from the couch and meets me at the doors, looking down at my brute of a dog who looks pretty damn proud of himself for getting as dirty as possible. "Hi, Chance."

Chance offers a bark in reply, his paw lifting to scratch at the other side of the door. Mackenzie laughs as I aim a warning glance at him. If only he had any idea what he had just interrupted.

"Aren't you going to let him in?"

"Are you kidding?" I ask. "Look at him. He's filthy."

She aims a pout at me. "But it's cold out there."

I could argue with her that this dog has seen much worse, having been a stray that wanders the town for sometimes days at a time, but Chance here seems to have lifted her spirits in a way that I doubt I'd ever be able to. Maybe he's just the distraction she needs.

A deep sigh deflates my chest as my eyes roll back. "Feel like helping me give a dog a bath?"

She nods, the smile on her face growing just that little bit bigger.

I open the door and wrangle Chance before he has the

opportunity to cover Mackenzie in muddy paw prints and carry him down the hall. I wrestle him into the bathtub, the sound of Mackenzie's laughter resonating off the bathroom walls like music to my ears.

There is so much healing left for her to do, but for now all of that can wait. She's been through enough today and if this scruffy loveable dog can help her forget her trauma for a couple of hours, I'm happy to let him.

I hold Chance down while she shampoos him and before long the bathroom is covered in dog hair and water.

Another job that can wait for tomorrow as far as I'm concerned.

While Mackenzie dries Chance off with the blow dryer, I go to change out of my muddy clothes. My phone rings from the top of the dresser and I stare down at the screen. It's my father again, but I don't have time to deal with whatever it is he has to say right now. My priorities lie with Mackenzie. I ignore the call, leaving the phone in its place.

When I return to the living room, Mackenzie is laying on the couch. Only this time Chance is curled up against her chest. She giggles as he rolls onto his back allowing her access to give him tummy scratches and I can't help the grin that spreads across my face at the sight.

"What's this?" I say, splaying my hands out as I glare down at Chance's puppy dog eyes. "You trying to steal my favourite girl, huh?" He barks loudly in response, flipping over onto his stomach with his tongue hanging out. "Yeah, whatever. Traitor."

I give him a pat on the head, not missing the pink blush that crawls its way up Mackenzie's cheeks. I hope I haven't crossed a line with that comment, but it's slowly but surely becoming the way I feel. I wander across the room and drop down into the armchair, reaching for the remote on the coffee table.

"You want to watch something?" I ask, then realising that probably sounded presumptuous I add, "Or I could take you home if you wanted. It's completely up to you."

Her eyes drift over me and then back to Chance as she contemplates her decision. "I think I'll stay a little longer."

"Are you enjoying my company? Or my dog's?" A smirk lifts one corner of my mouth.

"Your dog's," she replies immediately.

"Oh! Ouch." I laugh, clasping a hand over my chest in mock heartache.

She grins deviously, but then her eyes soften. "But you've been pretty great too."

"Any time," I say, and I hope she knows I mean it.

I swallow down the emotions her words have conjured. I care about her more than I've ever cared for anyone else. When she's upset, so am I. And that's a completely confounding notion for me. To be at the mercy of someone else's feelings.

"I might order us a pizza." I launch myself up from the chair, suddenly unable to sit still. "What do you like?"

She chews on her bottom lip, her fingers still lost in Chance's fur. "Pepperoni?"

"Cool. My favourite too."

I fetch my phone from the bedroom and search the number for the local pizza place. Once I've placed an order for delivery, I head back into the living room to report to Mackenzie.

"The rain is delaying delivery so should be about forty minutes…" My voice trails off as I catch sight of her.

She's fallen asleep, the hood of my favourite blue hoodie bunched up around the back of her neck, one arm draped over Chance who's still curled up in front of her. His own eyes are closed now too, completely content. I've never seen anything more perfect.

I wander back into my room and pull up Kristen's number in my contacts. She answers on the first ring.

"Dylan? Is everything okay?" I can understand the alarm in her voice, given what we went through with Henley last year. Calling Kristen isn't something I do often.

"Yeah. Everything's fine." This is only a half truth, but it's not my place to tell Kristen what her sister has been through today.

"Okay. Good, but have you seen Mackenzie at all? I didn't think she was working but she isn't answering any of my texts."

"Yeah. She's with me," I tell her. "She's had a bit of a rough day today is all and she's here at my place."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah. Of course. She's fine. She's safe," I inform her. "But she's fallen asleep, and I don't really want to wake her. I just wanted to let you know so you didn't worry."

"Okay. Thanks for letting me know." Kristen's relief is obvious, but her voice is still laced with sisterly concern. "She seems to be having a hard time opening up to me lately. I'm glad she has you."

"I'm glad I have her too."

In all honesty, I'm glad Mackenzie has both of us, and Henley and Harper too. Something tells me that after today, she's going to need all the support she can get.

"I know you are. You're good for her Dylan. Even if she doesn't know it yet."

"Yeah," I say softly.

But all I can think about is how wrong Kristen's got it.

Mackenzie is the one that's good for me.