A motor-mouth southern belle tries playing detective only to collide with a dangerously sexy biker.
Ellie Robinson takes it upon herself to secretly vacay to Sunny Valley, Alabama, on her best friend's behalf. There, Ellie uncovers a shocking truth...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Men don't cry.
This had been physically beaten into me by big hands that had cracked knuckles, flakes of dry skin still attached that would flap over raw red scrapes.
I knew my old man's fists well.
Too well.
A bone in my hand had never fully healed because of his wrath. Even today there are times it hurts when I flex it a certain way.
He had broken it when I was twelve. All because I had cried after my team lost a baseball game. My hands had been on the dashboard. I had turned my head to try to inconspicuously wipe them away on my shoulder. His fist connected with the back of my hand that still remained on the dash.
He had yanked me by the collar, his eyes dark and filled with rage. "If I ever see you cry over something so stupid again, I'll beat you senseless. You understand, boy?"
"Yes, sir."
But he's not here.
My chest cracked as soon as I saw her, black hair flowing behind her as she ran, green eyes bright as she collided with Ellie, and she was even wearing a tutu. I was looking right at what Jojo had been cheated out of, growing up. They were so eerily similar, even their smile, how it reached their eyes and made them so vibrant.
It was all too much.
I have kept the grief at bay, locked it away for years and years. But seeing Addie, how she is an exact replica of what my baby sister could've been, unleashed it all in that single breath of a moment. My whole body went rigid and it was as if I could physically see the tidal wave of grief about to crash into me, overwhelm me, engulf me. There was that snap decision I had to make, allow it to rage through me in acceptance, or run away.
I had turned, ready to run but then my chest caved in and it was like spears had conjured up from the earth, hitting me at all angles, keeping me rooted. The bones surrounding my lungs began to fracture as if all my walls were shattering before me. My mouth opened up and I did the one thing I promised the old man I'd never do again since I was twelve.
I cried.
One big tortured sob, fully accepting the pain and guilt.
And now, it still roars through me, quaking every bit of my soul as my defenses drop and that crashing wave assaults me in the most demeaning way. I just hope that I'll be able to rise above it once it's over and not drown in it. My throat burns all the way to my nostrils as if I really am submerged in thick saltwater, but all it is... is a hurricane of agony.
The last of the initial suffering scratches along my throat, my lips remain slightly parted as my breaths come out in jagged bursts along with my odd sobs that I try to keep quiet. I had failed Jojo, I was the one who was supposed to take care of her that night and I watched as that beast took her out, claiming they were grabbing some ice cream. Jojo's smile had been so wide, wrinkling her adorable face, those apple cheeks puffing up in excitement about getting a special daddy-daughter date.
