The reality of what looms outside those doors can’t stay locked out for long, but at least we’re safe in here.

There is no light coming through the window curtains when I finally open my eyes. Savannah is breathing quietly next to me, turned away and curled up in a way that looks like she’s defending herself. I want to uncurl her body, pull her into my arms, and ignore everything else.

But there are footsteps down the hallway. And my throat burns like I swallowed nails today. The only thing I want more than Savannah’s body against mine is water and only because I need it to survive.

I roll away, leaving the warmth of the bed and pull on a pair of boxers that were left on the floor. Taking one last glance at the girl in my bed, I replay the events of last night. The feel of her full hips in my hands, the scent of her shampoo, the way she shuddered when I trailed kisses across her stomach.

I need to walk away before I say, ‘fuck the water,’ and climb back in between her legs.

The house is silent. Too silent.

I can’t help it, but when I pass her room for the bathroom, I pause in front of Hazel’s closed bedroom door. It feels like she’s still in there, sleeping and peaceful. I did the same thing when Theo died. We were roommates when Rafe found him on the floor. After that day, I never passed his bedroom without seeing him in there.

It never goes away.

The sound of glass being set on the counter draws my attention to the kitchen.

Ryder is standing in the dimly lit great room, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink. Seeing this aged version of him still throws me. He was always so vibrant. He was the kid who took almost nothing seriously, did his best to get on everyone's nerves, and caused trouble wherever and whenever he could.

Back then, I despised him.

I was fresh out of the Army and back at Wicked. He was still a kid, only nineteen. I couldn’t stand to be around him, mostly because he always seemed to be laughing at a joke I wasn’t in on. And didn’t want to be.

When he left, I couldn’t have been happier. Except for the fact that Hazel begged him to stay. I remember her asking me to give him a job in my shop, and I couldn’t say fuck no fast enough. The disappointment in her face would stick with me for years, as if I was the one leaving. I was the one pushing him away when it was her that finally gave him access to his little trust fund, and he couldn’t wait to go blow it in Vegas.

He wasn’t even her kid. He had his own mom, but Ryder was just another one of Hazel’s little pet projects, the one that did not turn out the way she wanted.