Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

Val

T he nights are the worst.

When I hear every single noise that this creaking old building makes. When I imagine all the fears I had while living at home come to life and smother me with their intentions. That's why I'd ended up leaving in the first place.

He'd tried to touch me.

When I cried out, no one rushed to my aid.

Immediately, I knew I wasn't safe there anymore, and I would have to make my way. Which is why I'm here; in a studio apartment above Get Baked. Sleep will not come, at least not easily, and not soon. Rolling over, I grab my phone and hop onto my new social media account. A text comes through when it shows I'm active.

Hot Lineman: What are you doing awake?

I laugh when I see the name I gave him appear. If he ever sees, he'll never let me live it down. I still can't believe we text with one another. If our friend group knew about it, they would be surprised.

Me: Couldn't sleep. Too quiet and loud at the same time.

There's a request coming through for a video chat. I look awful, but I want someone to talk to, so I accept it and push back my wild hair. "Hey." I give him a smile.

We're both in the shadows, but I can still make out the ink on his arm, hand, and throat. I knew no one like him in my previous life, but as soon as I saw him walk into Get Baked, he made me feel things I've never felt before. He appeared dangerous, and stupidly hot in a book boyfriend type of way. I've been reading those romance novels that have appeared everywhere lately, and Vaughn looked like a main character come to life. Everything I shouldn't want, but all the things I did.

"Hey," he returns the smile, his lip lifting at the corner. "It's too late for you to be up."

"Me? What about you?"

He lays back, showing off the tattoo on his neck as he situated himself against the pillows. "I'm used to my sleep being fucked up and getting as little of it as possible. Not you though."

"How do you know?" I lick my lips. No one knows what I deal with at night. I make it a point not to talk to anyone about it, and to do my best to hide the circles under my eyes. It seems to work more than I thought.

"You haven't seen the shit I have, the destruction, and the lives irrevocably changed. I have an extremely hard time turning it off. Thank God I didn't decide to go into a profession like being a police officer or a firefighter." He shakes his head. "Pretty sure I would've already quit that job. People like you? They shouldn't witness that. You're too pure."

My throat tightens, halfway closing, and tears pool in my eyes. If he only knew.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." I fake a yawn. "Just finally getting tired. I'll see you soon?"

"Tomorrow." He promises. "Sleep sweet, Val."

"I will."

We disconnect the call and I put my phone down next to my thigh. At some point my former life is going to intersect with the new one I'm carving out for myself, and I'm scared of the repercussions. Because the life I had before? It was danger; it was destruction, and it almost killed me.

Pulling the blanket up to my chin, I turn on the TV to one of the streaming services I've broken down and purchased. It'll run at all hours, hopefully lulling me to sleep. It's times like these when I wonder why I got a job during the day. It would've been easier if I had worked on the night shift, but I can't change it now. I love what I do, I appreciate the friendships I've made, and I'm a loyal person to those who show me the same.

Plus, I'm scared.

There. I admitted it. I have no one in this world. I'm not willing to go back where I came from, and there are many worse places that I could be. Actually imagined I would be. The fact that I ended up here is one of the luckiest things I've ever had happen to me. Gabby is an angel sent from heaven, and I'm choosing to believe that having her in my corner is the answer. This is what God wanted me to do.

That's what I need to place my faith in.

I slept a total of three hours last night, and it's written across my face. I run the cold washcloth over my eyes and go about putting my hair back in a ponytail. My body aches, because I haven't had a restful sleep in so long, and I keep working harder than I need to, hoping I'll wear myself out enough to get that rest.

It's five am, and when I hear Gabby's door shut, I hurry to put my shoes on, and meet her downstairs. Time for me to pretend like I'm a productive member of society.

Her voice greets me. "You know you don't have to show up when I do."

"I know." I sigh heavily as I head over to start turning on the ovens so that they can begin warming up. "But I don't sleep well." I've never mentioned it to her.

"Sometimes I hear you at night walking around. You're not loud, but every once in a while, the building creaks."

My face flames with embarrassment. I didn't think anyone could hear me, never wanted to let others know about my messed up mind. "I'm so sorry."

"No." She reaches out. "Don't be. It doesn't bother me, I'm just worried for you. It doesn't seem that you sleep much, and I haven't wanted to ask you about it, but here we are."

I'm frozen, not sure what I want to say. In my previous life, I would've been in trouble, and while I'm close to Gabby, I don't know how she would react if I told her about the situation I came from. Sweat breaks out along my brow and my ears start ringing.

"Calm down, Val. You look like you're about to pass out. It's not that serious. If you don't want to tell me, it's fine. I promise." She smiles, cushioning the blow.

My heart is pounding, and I'm breathing heavily. "I want to tell you." I roll my lips together. "But I don't want you to think differently of me."

She holds my hand. "You're never going to make me do that. In the past few months, I've been blessed to see what a hard worker you are, how open you are to new experiences, and to become your friend. At least I hope you consider me your friend. I don't know what kind of life you came here from, and that's up to you to tell me when you feel comfortable. Just know, you never have to tell me anything. I might ask, because I'm inquisitive and too nosey for my own good, but it's your right." She emphasizes that word. "To tell me to shut the fuck up. I'll respect it, no matter what. That's the promise I make to you."

I believe her more than I've believed anyone else in my life. She's proven repeatedly that she can be trusted. One thing about Gabby is she's never made a promise to me she hasn't been able to keep. That's high praise for me. My family? They make promises they never intend to keep and then blame me for it. "Thank you, Gabby. I'll tell you one day when I feel like I can."

What I don't say is I'm not sure when that might ever be possible.