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I cover his hand with mine, and his gaze jerks down toward where we’re touching. Insecurity hits, and I nearly pull away, but then I note the way his shoulders have started to relax ever so slightly.

He needs this, too. So, even though it makes me nervous, too, I remain right where I am.

“I ran for about a year, and then I got jumped. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Presley had been following me. He jumped in to try to help, and they turned on him. I can still hear the fists. His cries.” Ryker closes his eyes and drops his head again. “The cops showed up and busted it up. I turned everyone in—except Angie.”

“You loved her.”

“I really thought I did,” he replies. “Anyway, a few days passed, and she showed up at my house. She was crying and told me she was sorry for what happened. That they made her do it, too. She said she was hungry and had no one left but me.”

“So you let her back in.”

“She stabbed me, and when he tried to get her off of me, she pulled out a gun and shot Presley. Would have shot me, too, except I managed to knock her out with a lamp first. My ten-year-old brother nearly bled out on the floor of the living room because I let my feelings overtake my judgement. I haven’t trusted myself in that situation since.”

“What situation?”

“A romantic one,” he says as he meets my gaze. “Because love makes you do stupid things, and that one time, it nearly cost me my brother.”

I stare at him, letting the weight of what he said sink in.

He loved a girl.

She betrayed him.

Nearly killed his brother.

And he now doubts his own judgment when it comes to love because he’s terrified of making the same mistake twice. Suddenly, his apprehension about helping me makes sense. After all, I’d been found with a whole lot of drugs in my system.

“Ryker, that wasn’t love,” I say tenderly.

He shakes his head. “It sure hurt like it was.”

With trembling fingers, I reach over and cup his cheek, then force him to look at me. Those gorgeous eyes lock on mine, and I’m unable to look away.

The world could burn to the ground around us, and he would still be all I see.

“My grandparents always told me that love was something you both fought for. Sometimes, one more than the other, but it was a constant choice about choosing each other. Angie never would have chosen you. And her actions are not yours to carry.”

“I let her in, Dahlia. Even after I knew what she was.”

“You tried to help her because you cared. But she’s the one who pulled the trigger.”

“My mom couldn’t even look at me after that. The entire time we were in that waiting room, she just kept telling me that I might as well have been the one behind the gun. That if he died, it was my fault and she never wanted to see me again.”

Anger heats my skin. I can see it so clearly—him sitting there, tears streaming down his cheeks, crushing guilt suffocating him while he awaited news of his brother. And all the while, the one person who should have been comforting him, only piled even more pain onto his shoulders. “She was wrong.”

Ryker closes his eyes.

“Closing yourself off is not the answer. One day, someone is going to choose you, Ryker. In every place, every situation, you will be their choice.”

Oh, how I’m starting to hope that person could be me.

After an incredibly awkward dinner, I excused myself up to my room just to get a breather. Neither brother spoke to the other, and the only conversation came from me, and was responded to with single-word answers.

No, that’s not true. Presley did say he liked the mountains. So, there were four words right there. But Ryker? He’s been silent ever since that moment on the balcony, barely even choosing to look at me.

Did I push things too far?

My Bible sits open in front of me, and I lean down to read the highlighted verse I’ve been going over for the last thirty minutes.