Carolina Moon

“You already know. Three-sies.” Jacks clattered, the ball thumped methodically on wood. A light breeze danced by, twined up with the scent of rambling roses and honeysuckle. “You already know, like when you saw the little boy’s picture that time. You knew.”
    “I can’t do that anymore.” Inside the child’s chest, Tory’s heart began to swell and bump. “I don’t want to do that anymore.”
    “You came,” Hope said simply, and moved onto four-sies. “You have to be careful not to go too fast, not to go too slow,” she continued, as she swiped a set of four and nipped the ball on the bounce. “Or you lose your turn.”
    “Tell me who he is, Hope. Tell me where to find him.”
    “I can’t.” She swept for another set and knocked a finger against another jack, sent it spinning. “Oops.” She looked over at Tory with clear eyes. “It’s your turn now. Be careful.”
    Tory’s eyes shot open. Her heart was knocking against her ribs and her hand was curled into a tight fist. So tight she was nearly surprised that a little red ball didn’t roll out when she spread her aching fingers.
    It was full dark now. The moon had set and left the world black and thick. The little breeze had gone with it so the air was still. Hushed.
    She heard an owl, and the shrill bell sound of peepers. She heard Cade’s steady breathing in the dark beside her, and realized she’d moved to the edge of the bed, as far from him as was possible.
    No contact in sleep, she thought. The mind was too vulnerable then to permit the luxury of casual snuggling.
    She slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the kitchen. At the sink she ran water until it chilled, then filled a tumbler.
    The dream had given her a desperate thirst, and had reminded her why she had no business sleeping with Kincade Lavelle.
    His sister was dead, and if she wasn’t responsible, she was obligated. She’d felt obligated before, and had followed through. The path she’d taken had brought her great joy and shattering grief. She’d slept with another man then, given herself out of careless and innocent love.
    When she’d lost him, lost everything, she’d promised herself she’d never make those choices, those mistakes again.
    Yet here she was, opening herself to all that pain a second time.
    Cade was the kind of man women fell in love with. The kind she could fall in love with. Once that step was taken, it colored everything you thought, everything you did and felt. In the bold hues of joy. In the drowning grays of despair.
    So the step couldn’t be taken. Not again.
    She would have to be sensible enough to accept the physical attraction, enjoy the results of it, and keep her emotions separate and controlled. What else had she done, nearly all of her life?
    Love was a reckless, dangerous thing. There was always something lurking in the shadows, greedy and spiteful, just waiting to snatch it away.
    She lifted the glass to her lips, and saw. Beyond the window, beyond the dark. In the shadows, she thought dully. Waiting. And the glass slipped from her fingers to shatter in the sink.
    “Tory?” Cade shot out of sleep, out of bed, and stumbled in the dark. Cursing, he rushed toward the kitchen.
    She stood under the harsh light, both hands at her throat, staring, staring at the window. “Someone’s in the dark.”
    “Tory.” He saw the sparkle of broken glass that had jumped from the sink to the floor. He grabbed her hands. “Are you cut?”
    “Someone’s in the dark,” she said again, in a voice much like a child. “Watching. From the dark. He’s been here before. And he’ll come back again.” Her eyes stared into Cade’s, through them, and all she saw were shadows, silhouettes. What she felt was cold. So much cold.
    “He’ll have to kill me. I’m not the one, but he’ll have to because I’m here. It’s my fault, really. Anybody could see that. If I’d come with her that night, he’d have just watched. Like he’d done before. He’d have just watched and imagined doing it. Just imagined until he got hard and used his hand so he could feel like a man.”
    Her knees went out from under her, but she protested as Cade swept her up. “I’m all right. I just need to sit down.”
    “Lie down,” he corrected. When he put her back on the bed, he hunted up his trousers. “You stay in here.”
    “Where are you going?” The sudden terror of being left alone brought strength back to her knees. She leaped up.
    “You said someone was