“Let me go,” she whispered.

“The rude assholes really do bother you, don’t they?” He tipped her face up again, but she closed her eyes to avoid the disgust that must be in his. “Babe, they’re fucking insecure, needing to drag someone else down to feel adequate. Ignore them.”

What? Her gaze met his. He didn’t appear angry with her. Or disgusted.

His lips quirked. “What did you think I was going to do? Toss you out of the booth in case your unpopularity with a few losers might be contagious?”

She barely kept from nodding.

He stared. “Seriously?”

He honestly didn’t care what her classmates said? He’d called them losers. Her fingers were icy. Little tremors shook her body.

But Mandy and Jefferson were losers. She closed her eyes as the truth sank into her bones. She had friends, teachers, mentors who considered her valuable. Strong. Why did words coming from losers upset her so badly? Maybe her judgment scale was skewed if nasty comments from those she didn’t respect weighed more than opinions from people she valued. Somehow, someday, she needed to think about that.

“Rainie.” Jake squeezed her shoulder. “That old guy, Bart. He needs to hear the truth.”

Misery was a heavy anchor, dragging on her heart. “He thinks his son is a good person.”

“Mmmhmm. He might hope, but I doubt he believes it. He’s hurting because he thinks you let him down. You, he trusted.”

Even knowing she should shift away, she couldn’t leave the comfort of Jake’s arms. She leaned her forehead against his chest as she tried to work out what to do. How did a person choose a path when each ended in pain?

But Jake was right. Bart thought she’d betrayed him. Even worse, if he didn’t comprehend the dangers of leaving Cory in charge, Bart could lose his company.

But…oh…facing Bart would be much more difficult than merely walking away.

This time when she retreated from Jake’s embrace, he let her. She firmed her trembling lips. “You go on home. Thank you for the advice.”

“What are you planning?”

“I’ll talk to him.” God help her.

“You’re not facing him alone, sweetling.” He rose and helped her out of the booth. “I won’t butt in, but I’ve got your back.”

Her eyes blurred with tears. “Don’t be nice, damn you.” She slapped his arm, knowing she was one small second from bursting into noisy sobs.

“Right.” The lines fanning from his eyes creased, although he didn’t smile. His knuckles brushed a tear from her cheek gently enough to make her heart ache. “I’ll work on being mean.”

“Th-thank you.”

She’d broken up with him. So how could her love continue to grow and expand until her heart felt filled to bursting? How could that be?

As they wove through the tables, she spotted their destination in a booth under a bank of night-black windows. Bart and his wife, Tilly, on one side.

Cory sat on the other side. Clean-shaven, groomed, suited up and looking like a Boy Scout—except for his swollen nose still bearing yellowing bruises.

When Bart spotted her, he rose. Watching his face darken with anger was like taking a knife in the chest. When had she come to love the gruff old man? Why hadn’t she ever told him?

Her regrets were like an echo in a rock-lined valley. Too late, too late, too late.

Cory saw her and stiffened. “What the fuck is she doing here? Beat it, bitch.”

“Cory,” his mother gasped. “Language.”

Rainie pulled a shield around her heart. If she didn’t speak now, she’d never find the courage again. “Give me one minute, Bart, and I’ll leave you alone.” Chin up, she held the old man’s gaze.

“Spit it out, Rainie.” Bart’s jaw was tight.

Behind her, Jake stepped closer, giving her the warmth of his body. Of his support.

Cory glared, malice coating his expression.

She swallowed and forced the words out. “You never knew this, Bart, but I first met Cory when I was sixteen and living with a drug dealer.”

“A drug dealer? Sixteen?” Tilly gasped. Her face changed, worry filling it—and Rainie realized it was for her, a teenager in a bad situation. Bart’s wife had a heart as big as his.

Bart merely nodded. “I knew. Lily told me.” His bushy brows drew down. “Why would Cory have been there?”

“He came to buy drugs.” This was like wading through a swamp of ugliness with the muck of her past dragging at her feet. “Then he wanted to buy me for s-sex. Had a fight with Shi—with the dealer and Cory ended up thrown into a dumpster.”

She saw Bart and Tilly’s expressions. Complete disbelief. It hurt, and her momentum faltered.

Jake squeezed her waist. “Go on, babe,” he murmured.

God, she loved him.

She forced her gaze back to Bart. “When I got a job with you and realized Cory was your son… Well, it was an unpleasant surprise for both of us.”

“You are full of bullshit,” Cory burst out. “Bitch, I never met you before and—”

“Be quiet.” The dominance that had made Jacob Sheffield a Master in the Shadowlands filled the air.

Cory turned pale, and with a jerky movement, slid as far away in the booth as he could get.

Well. The wonder of having her own hero at her back loosened her throat, letting her continue. “The day before I quit, Cory took over the scheduling. You know Larry tends the baby when his wife works, and he needs those afternoons off. Cory ignored the requested-time-off slips and scheduled him anyway. Larry had a fit, and Cory fired him.”

“Fired Larry?” Bart looked as if someone had punched him. “He’s one of the most reliable ones there. Cory, you—”

Rainie continued, “After I wrote out Larry’s paycheck, Cory ripped it up and said he wouldn’t pay Larry, even though he’d worked all month. We argued.”

“That’s bullshit,” Cory snarled. “You—”

Rainie never looked away from Bart. “Cory kicked me out of the office. That was on a Friday. The next night, he showed up at my apartment, and he was high on drugs. Probably coke. He told me…”

Her gaze met Tilly’s, and her voice closed down.

God, she couldn’t do this. Not to that sweet woman. Rainie tried to take a step back and bumped into Jake.

He put an arm around her waist, anchoring her against his side as he spoke to Tilly. “Ma’am, I’m sorry to tell you this. Cory told Rainie that if she didn’t give him a blowjob, he’d fire her. He told her he could do anything he wanted, including fuck the staff.”

“No. No,” Bart whispered. His eyes turned to Rainie. Appalled. Filled with pain.

“I… Yes.” This was like kicking a helpless puppy. “Cory grabbed me, and Jake punched him.”

“You fucking bitch! I never touched you!” Cory jumped to his feet. “And I’ve never met your asshole boyfriend.”

“Want me to break your nose again?” Jake stepped around Rainie. “Sit. Down.”

Rainie’s knees almost buckled. Cory dropped back onto the bench.

Bart stared at his son’s bruises. “You said you’d fallen down.” The color drained from his face, leaving his lined skin gray. He sagged.

As his wife took his hand, she was choking back sobs.

Oh God, what had she done? “I’m sorry, Bart,” Rainie managed to whisper. “I’m so sorry.” She hesitated and then fled, pushing her way to the front door.

“Rainie.” Jake followed her out.

In the distance, thunder rumbled, and the palms lining the parking lot bent under the advancing storm.

Rainie turned to face Jake. Another person she’d let down. He’d lost a dog at the clinic, and he’d needed her—and she’d used him. Ruined his evening with her own problems. She hadn’t helped him at all—because, once again, her past had returned. Hurting her. Hurting others.

“I’ll take you home,” Jake said.

“No.” She took a step back, distancing herself. “Thank you. Thank you for…for being here. But, I’m not good for you.”

“That’s not true, Rainie.”

“I want to be alone.”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t—”

She shook her head. “My choice.”

As she walked away, she could feel the tie between them stretch and thin and disappear. The wind whipped at the tears streaming down her face, leaving only coldness behind.

Jake watched Rainie as she sat at her desk in the clinic. She looked like hell. Her color was so pale he could see the blue veins at her temples, the shadows under her eyes. She moved as if even her muscles hurt.

She’d undoubtedly spent the night suffering for Bart and his wife. Yes, she was the type to take on that guilt.

Fuck, he wanted to hold her.

Instead, he opened the fridge, grabbed a couple of energy drinks, and handed her a can. “You need that. Drink it.”

She blinked at him and half smiled. “Your presentation lacks finesse, but thank you.”

“You doing all right?”

Her lips drew up into a wry smile. “The fact you fetched me an energy drink means I’m not going to win Miss America today, huh?”